This past weekend I went to DC to enjoy the 2nd annual Cousin’s Outing. We played golf, went to a Yankees/Orioles game in Baltimore, ate at an amazing Italian restaurant, had an epic bowling competition and then golfed again. All during hurricane Irene. I had a ton of fun, but what I looked forward to the [...]
This past weekend I went to DC to enjoy the 2nd annual Cousin’s Outing. We played golf, went to a Yankees/Orioles game in Baltimore, ate at an amazing Italian restaurant, had an epic bowling competition and then golfed again. All during hurricane Irene. I had a ton of fun, but what I looked forward to the most, other than finally getting some sun, was playing Mound Ball at the Yankees game. The game is simple, but as we found out this past weekend, it’s hard to win.
It starts with a hat. Everyone throws in a dollar, and the first person holds on to the hat during the first innning. The person holding the hat wins the money when the umpire throws the ball to the mound between innings and it lands on the dirt of the mound. If the ball touches the grass, or doesn’t stay on the mound, the hat is passed and everyone antes up another dollar. As you can guess the money can really add up if the umpire doesn’t throw it well and it rolls off. Or in our case this weekend, never throws it at all.
Aside from winning, the best part is waiting for the umpire to toss the ball and seeing how it lands. It’s like playing at a Roulette table and watching as the ball spins around with high hopes and anticipation of it landing on your number. Well, there was such a build up because the umpire never threw the ball on the mound! We kept going inning by inning, adding more money until there was a thick wad of bills mixed with everyone’s drool. Sitting under the overhang of the seats above, we didn’t realize right away why the umpire was sabotaging our game of Mound Ball. It turns out he kept the ball until the fielding team’s pitcher came out and tossed it to him so it wouldn’t get wet.
Well the rain cleared up the second time around the 8th inning and I was up next to hold the hat. I was excited. I knew I had a shot to take this money straight to the bar and buy everyone beers. I wanted to be that guy. The inning was over and the umpire, ball in hand, walked straight to the mound, and ever so gently, tossed the ball. It was heaven enfolding before my eyes! Such a set-up in Mound Ball has never been recorded! He was 6 feet from the mound, it was perfect. The ball rolled and gently came to a stop on the dirt and I jumped up and, 4 tall boys in, screamed “ALL YOUR BASE ARE BELONG TO ME!!! I AM THE WINNER OF MOUND BALL!!!”. I can’t remember if I was beating my chest like an animal or my shirt was off when the clapping of strangers and sighing of family suddenly stopped. I paused my celebrating to momentarily look at my fellow players pointing at my winning mound ball and gasped; the ball was moving. Slowly at first, then faster, then with enough speed to exit the mound.
I willed it to stop but it was no use. It was over. My objections to it not touching the grass were overruled by everyone and thus I was forced to pass the hat, tears now mixed with the drool, to my 7’2″ cousin Big Jim. He looked down at me, took a sip of his beer, and bellowed, “At least he threw the ball for you.” I can drink to that.
Leave Your Response