This was once again not your prepubescent self’s kickball…
In the second game I watched during yesterday’s Third Annual International Kickball Invitational in Brooklyn, N.Y., a girl playing first base was brought to the ground by an opposing player barreling down the base line. His tackling technique was nothing if not textbook. She bounced back remarkably well from the bear hug take down, as her team’s second baseman ran to cover her up – as one of her boobs had freed itself from her bikini top.
Along with All-Star teams assembled from the Brooklyn League, there were squads in attendance from Canada (read: International!), the deep South (Atlanta), and the midwest (Hoboken, NJ).
The eventual champions – one of the four Brooklyn teams – notched a mercy rule victory in their second game of the day, against a team that came all the way from Toronto.
So did you guys rent a church van or something? I asked some the Canadians. No, gas is stupid, we took the bus…it took 11 hours. That’s a long ways to come to get throttled like that.
The tournament ran all day Saturday from 1 – 11 p.m. – which by my estimation is the longest recorded kickball tournament since Jesus coined the term balls in 15 A.D. (Quote: Get these balls, sucka sayeth the Lord to Judas; Corinthian 21:12)
McCarron Park in BK provided the ultimate self-indulgent backdrop for an organized group of several hundred adults playing an elementary school game. Like most hot, humid days in New York, the park was overrun with beautiful people laying on beach towels, just sort of looking at each other. Also, there was not one, but dueling Mister Softee trucks – which will be getting my business, I wonder?
Prior to the start of the tournament, I spent a good amount of time sitting on a bench drinking a 32-ounce Budweiser out of styrofoam cup watching these Polish kids pelt each other with water balloons. A little girl about five flanked me, and hit me square in the junk with one. Miraculously, it didn’t pop; she was so mad it didn’t explode all over me. I was relieved, I didn’t need to walk around the rest of the day with wet junk.
Even though they didn’t play particularly well, the Canadians did show up with Maple Leaf umbrella hats, an apparent traveling mascot dressed as Dionysus, and ketchup flavored potato chips.
Luckily I had the 32-ounce King of Beers or I never would have gotten the taste of those putrid chips out of my mouth.
See some more photos of the tournament below, as well as one of the more clever trash cans I’ve seen in my day. Check out more at BrooklynKickball.com as well.
