What’s more embarrassing? Striking out in softball or-- actually I don’t need to go any further. Striking out in softball is one of the most embarrassing things someone can do. I fancy myself something of an athlete, and even I have done it. Actually, I did it twice in a single game, in consecutive at-bats. It was a freak incident. Who knows what was happening. I couldn’t hit the ball.

The third time I struck out was on a bad call. Granted, it may have been close, but when the ball hits the side of the plate, you’ve got to call it a ball. This umpire didn’t. I let him know I disagreed with his opinion on the matter. He snapped back at me. I turned around, tossed the bat up in the air out of frustration (it really was a toss, no one was in danger of getting hit, and it wasn’t a thrown bat towards the fence like a four-year old throwing a tantrum). Anyway, as soon as I let the bat out of my hands I knew I had made a mistake. I tensed up my shoulders waiting to see what would come of the flying projectile. As it landed I hear the umpire yell “that’s it you’re ejected.”

This was followed by a simultaneous exchange between the umpire and the catcher vs. myself, with some f-bombs thrown in for dramatic effect. Not something I’m proud of. Not only have I struck out in a softball game, I’ve been thrown out as well. Not something I’m proud of. (P.S. the umpire was fired the next day.)
Yesterday, our friend Heffrey joined the “Oh man, did I really just strike out in softball club.” It’s pretty exclusive. Once you’re in, you’re in forever.

Before I get into a strike-by-strike account of his at-bat I want to make something crystal clear. Heffrey is easily one of our best hitters. He’s not going to hit a home run. Hell, he doesn’t even have warning track power. I’d be surprised if he ever hits a double. But the fact remains, his batting average has to be somewhere in the .800’s. Yesterday he lined out to someone, and I asked him “Heffrey, are you sick?” He really just never gets out. Until yesterday.

Strike 1: We’re winning by at least nine or ten runs. The pitcher has walked about 56 batters today. This at-bat means nothing. His first swing at the ball results in a nice breeze for everyone. “OHHHHHHHHH” is heard all over the field. Heff smiles at the dugout. “I can’t believe that just happened” is the look on his face.

Strike 2: Another monster swing. This time he makes contact. Barely. The ball fouls off the plate and the catcher retrieves it. Two strikes.

In our league, the count starts at 1-1. Two foul balls per at bat. Meaning if Heffrey hits another foul he’s out. If he swings and misses, he’s out. If he gets a hit, who cares, we’re up by 10. It’s really a no-win situation for him. And the look on his face says it all. Uh oh. The crowd wants a strikeout. Our dugout is chanting his name.

There are two hot girls in the stands. Heffrey! Heffrey! Heffrey!

Strike 3: He swings. He misses. He records a strikeout.

Everyone is laughing, but not necessarily at him. We all know he’s a good hitter and he’ll bounce back from it, so we can give him a hard time about it. The next hitter gets on base. Unfortunately, he’s hurt and needs a pinch runner. The rules state that the last batted out must be the pinch-runner. It’s Heffrey.

As he trots out to first base, everyone still remembers his strike out earlier in the inning. We all know why he’s running out there. Except me. So I ask him in a loud enough voice for everyone to hear, “Heffrey, remind me how you got out again. Was it a deep fly ball?”

So yeah, striking out in softball sucks. Too bad it happened to Heffrey. But next game I’ll put money on it that he’ll go 3-4 with three singles, and 4 RBI. But if he goes 0-4 with no strikeout, we’ll consider it a job well done.