This is about those tears I wasn’t able to talk about back then.
If you read that one, you’d understand it when I say, In all honesty and truthfulness, I swear I didn’t shed any tears on that game.
You see, crying in a ball game is for athletes, sportspeople, sports fans. I’m not either one of those and I have not yet come close to understanding the feelings of people who are engaged in sports.
Unlike Twilight where I feel like I already have an inkling of comprehension of their passion. Unlike the followers of J.K. Rowling whose fervour I understand by more than just a bit. But with sports, I’ve not much of a clue.
I still think of games as games and are meant to be so.
But those tears didn’t spring from any particularly deep emotion during that game.
And, despite the fact that a person was crying, I call it the lighter side of the entire event.
You might think badly of me, call me evil, or want to stone me; but the misery of people I do find amusing. Especially ones that they brought upon themselves. It does sound like a rather dark source of amusement.
But you must note that I personally do not make an effort to put misery in the lives of people. I do not exactly revel in watching people’s misery. In fact, I would be perfectly happy if such a state did not exist for any of Earth’s people.
It’s not the truth. It’s not the reality. It’s not the way things are. For ours is not the perfect world. And we must all learn to live with it. Otherwise, we wallow in the have-not’s and that leads to nowhere other than even more misery.
Now, back to those particular tears.
The previous narrative was in no way complete. If that could even pass for a narrative. Anyway, given the tears, it should be obvious that the game didn’t end in an entirely happy note.
Especially not for that game official.
Given the circumstances, there was no way that game could end in a happy note.
She wasn’t the chairman of the officiating team. The chairman who normally gets all the trouble. She was the scorer.
Firstly, some players weren’t happy about the scoring. Especially about the strike outs. She received too many questions she probably felt the wrong things her eyes started reddening and watering.
That was about the time when I discovered the real score – our turn during the third and last inning.
Next, she made things worse for herself by calling us imbeciles.
That wasn’t received well. No one would’ve received that well. Instead, it gained stronger reactions than the questionable scores.
Yes, that amused me. That part exactly.
I thought of taking myself out of the game instead of taking three people out of the game. In the end, I still took three people out of the game.
I was such an idiot.
But, before that, we reached the second bad bit of the game: the opposing team was playing with ten defenders. When, supposedly, there should only be nine.
I didn’t notice it. Nobody noticed it. Except perhaps the game officials who answered us it was not a violation of the rules and that it was pretty normal.
I didn’t know what to do with that. I didn’t know what to do with that statement. I had absolutely no idea how to deal with such a declaration.
As for me, this was another point of idiocy that tells me there was not a single moment during that game when I acted smart.
See, now that I think about it, my first kick was on the right direction. I recognised a shortstop on the other side of the infield*. My ball was caught. I should have realised then that they had two shortstops. But, no. I was blind.
As I’ve mentioned, nobody noticed something was wrong until the third inning. Not that it took one player away from the field. Like she said, it was normal to have ten players on the field.
And, it wasn’t just about the one single excess shortstop. There was also the fact that the outfielders were already infield. I didn’t ever think before that more than two defenders were allowed inside the diamond.
I don’t blame those errors, really. I bear the burden. The fault is in my hands.
Now, I’ve digressed too far.
My dark amusement, yes.
Those tears didn’t arise from fervent passion for the game. Neither was it a celebration of victory. Nor was it from sadness after a losing game.
Basically, she didn’t need to be in so much trouble. Had she not offended us, everything would’ve stopped and the game could’ve continued as normally as was possible. And, had she not uttered even more unnecessary words, the discussion would have been over before the game was over.
It wasn’t merely dark amusement.
It was a reminder that, indeed, one cannot fight fire with fire.
The one way to fight fire is with water. The one unmistakable character of water is that it does not have its own shape. It does not impose its own way but abides. It is gentle.
And in this manner must we settle arguments. More than just arguments, it is in this manner, too that we must receive other people if disorder is not what we seek.
Only then can we avoid that which is unnecessary.
Know that the world is already not at peace with itself. Creating more confusion will only fuel the flames of chaos which are already burning bright. Turning those flames into reality can only end in destruction.
* Yes, I did say infield. My kick wasn’t right. I received the ball wrong. I knew it wouldn’t fly well. I recognise that much. Not that such an assessment helped me later. This is what one gets for not practising even once before an actual game.
Although, I would’ve made it, and the rest of us in the field, if there weren’t too many infielders from the opposing team. Yes, I could be miscalculating but, judging from how the game went for the rest of them, I would’ve made it.
If she wasn’t there, the second shortstop, the ball wouldn’t have been caught. I could’ve ran. But, of course, they could still have caught me before I reached the base.