I am delighted to report that after a buggy and stifling morning shuffling around and waiting to take our team picture, Team Robbo came out swinging at our noon game today and positively crushed our opponents, 23-4. (We are now 2-1 on the year.)
As it turns out, all of the teams in the league are named for MLB teams, a fact that I had not known. Due to some kind of administrative oversight, our team didn’t receive their MLB-logo visors along with the rest of our uniforms. Well, we got ‘em this morning. Turns out that we are the Indians, as in Cleveland.
I tell you truly, friends, there is nothing that brings a pack of ten and eleven year old gels together like teaching them all the war-whoop. I can safely say that even if we don’t win our division this season, we will certainly get the prize for noisiest dugout.
Go Tribe!
3 comments
Comments feed for this article
April 27, 2009 at 3:17 am
Father M.
After the war whoops you need to teach them the pre-game Haka dance of the New Zealand All-blacks for sure-fire oponent intimidation…
April 27, 2009 at 1:11 pm
Robbo
Not a bad idea. I should also have mentioned that war-paint is fast becoming de rigeur in our dugout. It started with black anti-glare lines under the eyes and has rayther taken off – my clean-up batter came decked out in red stripes all over her face.
April 27, 2009 at 1:36 pm
The Maximum Leader
Can I come to the games and pretend I’m Bob Uecker calling the games (a la “Major League”)?