This is my nightmare.
Actually, this is the best-case-scenario version of my nightmare. My REAL nightmare involves something I witnessed in college and caused me to avoid the on-deck circle altogether. Even to this day, I won’t stand there during softball games. My teammates think it’s weird, I think I just want to keep being handsome.
It was my junior year, and our fraternity was playing the last game of the night in softball. We got to our field a few innings before the prior game ended. While we were sitting there, warming up and barely paying attention to the game at hand — because who gives a shit, it’s softball? — something worth giving a shit about happened. This jacked mother fucker from a rival fraternity stepped up to the plate. His at-bat history and reputation was not pretty. Every time he swung the bat it looked like his objective was to murder the ball, but, unfortunately for him, his hand-eye coordination was absolute shit, so his efforts only lead to him leading the league in bat speed and in-field flies. Anyway, this at-bat was when I realized standing in the on-deck circle is suicide.
As the first pitch came in, Brutus took his usual mighty hack. He WHIFFED. This angered him. So when the second pitch came cruising in, he threw swing mechanics out the window and took the wildest cut I’ve ever seen. Naturally, he whiffed again. However, before any of us could laugh at the idiot who couldn’t hit a slow-pitched softball, the joke was already on someone else. Yep, the bat fucking FLEW out of his sweaty hands, helicoptered for no more than one second, and robbed the poor bastard in the on-deck circle of all his adult teeth. It was not a pretty scene. And even worse, our game was delayed so they could to pick this kid’s mouth off the turf. Just an awful night for everyone involved.
That’s why I don’t do on-deck circles.
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