Hey, guess who showed up to play in our game yesterday?

Ok, not really. He instead opted to play at his annual charity softball game. But that doesn’t mean our Sunday tilt was sans excitement.

The Sandman and I were again locked in a pitcher's duel (meaning we were giving up an average of 1-2 home runs and 4-5 runs per inning). In the fourth or fifth inning, with me on the mound, someone hit a long ball to the outfield. Our centerfielder threw it in to our shortstop, who was in short center for the cutoff. As he caught it, I yelled for him to hold the ball, since there wouldn't be a play at home plate. Instead, what he did was catch it, turn around and throw it, at full force since he was gunning for home.

Which meant I was a lame duck, standing there with my arms up in the "hold it" signal. So when the ball came flying at me, there was nothing I could do except catch it. Which I did. With my ribs.

As you can imagine, this was not pleasant. It knocked me to the ground, where I writhed in pain for a few minutes as the fellas gathered around. But I quickly decided I was going to live and got back on my feet. And then, I got back on the mound and finished the game. Don't ever let it be said that I'm not a gamer.

Which I had to prove again two innings later, when someone else barreled into me as I stood on second and knocked my ass back to the ground. That I could have done without. Particularly since he was on my own team. What can you do...

Not surprisingly, I spent the afternoon napping on my cousin's couch. But I was able to rally for a plateful of meat at Steve's Sizzlin' Steaks last night. Good times.

While I was sleeping, a tremendous black and blue marked emerged, measuring about four inches up and down and two inches across. It's lovely. I guess I'm going to have to let Bikini Monthly know that they'll have to wait a month or two to put me on their cover.

A few things from the weekend...

When you arrive at a house party and see there are two port-a-johns in the driveway, you know the hosts aren't messing around.

I can't tell you when - a week from now, a month, maybe a year - but at some point there will be a post about the shower caddy I just installed in the bathroom. Specifically, when it crashes down on me and batters me with shampoo and other assorted toiletries as I shower. It's very nice, but doesn't seem to be the most structurally sound gadget. Perhaps it was the installation.

My parents celebrated their 40th anniversary yesterday. They don't seem old enough to have been married for 40 years, but alas.

Now that I think about it - I have a history of getting injured on family events. In high school, I was once taken to the hospital via ambulance on my brother's birthday after having my foot and ankle ripped away from the rest of my leg during a softball game. My face-breaking incident in Hawaii happened on my mother's birthday (although I didn't tell her about it until the day after, so as to not ruin her day, which I thought was particularly considerate).

Perhaps someone is sending me a message that I should simply sit home and honor my loved ones on their special occasions. I've made a note.