Your greatest sports/athletic achievement

I scored on a four-base error whirlwind around the bases during one at-bat in a community college intramural softball game against the Jocks.

Play began when I hit a slow roller to shorstop, who half-assed the play and makes a wild throw to first. The ball hits the fence and rolls down the right-field line.

I continued to second, only to see the throw (from the right fielder) get past the third baseman and into left field.

I head to third (to the objective of my teammates who are saying, 'No, No') and slide head first as the throw from the left fielder gets away from third and rolls between the first-base line and home plate.

At this point I'm heading home. The first baseman fields the ball and throws to the right of the catch, allowing me to again slide head first for the final run. After sliding home, my teammates lift me and carry me back to the dugout on their shoulders. Even the jocks were impressed with the play. I had bad scrapes on my elbow and knees from the slides, but it was worth it.

 

You sure you weren't playing against the 2007 White Sox?

 

In sixth grade, we played softball every day at recess. Our teacher pitched to us. I was sucking, like usual, and either striking out or grounding out weakly because all I would do was step towards third base during my swing--stepping in the bucket. My arch-nemesis would razz me every single AB, tell me how much I sucked and what an embarrassment I was, etc.

My teacher, bless his soul, saw all this taking place and, as I stepped into the batter's box, told me to step towards him when I swing the bat. I nodded. In centerfield, the douchebag razzed me some more.

My teacher lobbed the ball toward home plate...I stepped towards him and swung...and fucking CRUSHED that ball. I mean, I fucking nailed it. To centerfield, too. I'll never forget the douchebag's face dropping as he turned and ran after it. It cleared the basketball courts, landed and started rolling up a slight incline.

I rounded the bases in about 4.5 seconds, smiling the widest smile of my life. I crossed home plate as the douche meekly threw the ball into the outfield and high-fived everyone on my team.

My teacher kept track of the home runs and made a big deal about putting my name up on the board when we got back in. I ended up finishing third in the class. It was all downhill from there, but man, that felt good. I take a great deal of pride whenever I'm playing ball with my cousin and I remind him to step towards me when he's swinging.

In high school, I ran track (also badly). The football coach was the track coach, not because he knew anything about track--he knew less about track then he did about football, a notable achievement--but because he wanted to preside over the off-season workouts of his players, all of whom just happened to come out for field events. This jerkoff had me running long distance, which I hated. I didn't have the--pause for effect--STAMINA for it, but he was convinced I could be a good distance runner. Never mind that I loved running the 400 and the 800 (it's not quite a sprint, it's not quite a distance race, but you get a good workout) and kept begging him for a chance to try the high jump. "No, you're not a high jumper," he said.

I convinced him to let me run the 400 once in a JV meet and try the high jump at the JV league meet. I won both events, and not by a small margin. He can blow me.

 

And then you fucked Linda Fiorentino!!!!!!

 

Senior year of high school. Two outs, tie score, runners on first and third.

High fastball that wasn't that fast, drops into centerfield.

It's either that or winning the Pinewood Derby when I was eight.

 

HE WAS JUST A KID!!!!!

(Good Lord I hope Junkie isn't in timeout)

 

You can't even hold in your own mud.

 

Fantastic. For the first 6 seasons, I was the biggest MWC fan.