January 6, 2010

When I was around 8, I was playing baseball with my friends on a team sponsored by Diet Coke. Everyone made fun of us because of the Diet Coke sponsorship. It hurt our feelings. We wanted it to make us better at baseball. I don't think it worked.

Our coach had three kids on the team. He was an asshole. He directed his actions at making his children famous baseball players. I really, really don't think it worked.

I played as the pitcher and as a short stop. I thought I was pretty good. I got really serious about thinking I was serious.

At one point, I jammed my middle finger and was rendered (by myself) too injured to play pitcher. My best friend Nick was to take my place. He wasn't supposed to be as good as I as a pitcher. He was bigger than I was, which, we thought, told us that he was less athletic. He played in one game as the pitcher for the Diet Coke team. He pitched beautifully. It was the best performance of the season from the Diet Coke pitchers. We were, for the moment, humbled. I was very disappointed that I remained the starter when I felt better. More disappointing was that I expected that.