Hyphen vs. Frog Design

Our half-hour whiffleball game against the formidable Frog Design must have set some kind of record for speed. Five innings in 30 mins! In the end, PBR and Sparks gave Frog Design the gusto (and extra warmth) they needed to win by one run. We were bummed. But the resilient Team Hyphen quickly shook it off and headed to the bar as fast as possible to enjoy post-game boozing and booty shaking. Balls schmalz.

TEAM HYPHEN: “WE-FIT”

HIT IT

WUT

BOOTY SHAKING

The wind was strong that day, chilling to the bone. But neither the wind, nor the KEXP team, could deter we mighty Bumbershoot Hot Dogs from what we came to the Seattle Center to do: WIN.

As we tossed the ball back and forth before the game, we could feel our blood begin to boil, despite the approaching gusts. Our eyes grew wide, then red, finally retreating to slits as we focused in on our prey and eventual conquest. We knew none could stand in our path, regardless of DJing skills.

We took the field enthusiastically, with impenetrable defenses repelling all KEXP attempts at scoring. This was our field, and we made certain they knew it. With repeated catches, beans, and strike outs, we Hot Dogs set the tone of the game. At bat we were a force. Our line drives and aggressive base running tested KEXP’s limits of how much abuse one orange-shirted team could take.

When Peter ‘Sweet &’ Lowe stepped up to the plate, we knew it was finally over for our record spinning opponents. As he banished the ball into the stratosphere with a hollow thwack, he brought home the solitary run of the game, ushering in our thus-far perfect record.

We only feel sorry for the next team with the audacity to oppose us, for we are less a team now, and more a staunch athletic machine, without weakness or mercy.

Go Hot Dogs!

(Credits: Aubbie, photos / Evan, prose / Mike, nicknames / Shaun, smack talk)

Some of us ran to the wrong base. Some of us pitched 15 times before getting it over the plate. Some of us swung and missed. Some of us slid into first base. Together, we did not score a run.

Some of us laughed at ourselves. Some of us cringed in anger and astonishment. Some of us heckled. Some of us were heckled. Together, we accepted our defeat and vowed to practice. Our initial team fumble was bitterly harsh. We were outplayed.

Props goes to our player of the game. She may intimidate, but she damn well knows how to intimidate with grace.

Yes, we love our shoes too!

Crying is overplayed. Peel out.