Bad Day At The Yard

Yesterday was not one of my finest moments in a baseball uniform.
Our over 35-team, the Orioles, got stomped by the Cardinals, 11-6. I helped the cause...the Cardinals cause. I made two brutal errors at short including one in the first inning when I was looking for the inning ending force out at second and threw the ball into right field. That led to three unearned runs. Our pitcher, Marcus Fisher, deserved a better fate. He usually plays the outfield but our two regular pitchers were out of town. He pitched his heart out and of the 11 runs he allowed, maybe 2 or 3 were earned. I played like an amateur out there which, come to think of it, I am. I don't get paid to go out there and play ball for three hours each Sunday.
Not only did we lose but I got hit with a pitch on the right ankle. Figures one of the few guys who throws pretty hard in our league let one get away and it drilled me directly on the ball part of the ankle. I've been hit by a ton of pitches in my day but this one is one of the worst. Since we only had 9-guys, I had to keep playing on the bum ankle that was throbbing and swelling up quickly. Actually we were down to 8 players when I got hit in the bottom of the 6th inning because one of our players, Tim, acted like an ass-clown and got thrown out of the game arguing a third strike. He drew a line in the opposite batters box where he claimed the ball crossed. The ump warned him and he did it again and got tossed.
I finished the game at first base since I couldn't move. I did get a bases loaded single in the 9th to keep our slim hopes alive. I hobbled down to first. It wasn't exactly a Kirk Gibson moment but it was my Kirk Gibson moment. Steve Brouwer, our catcher and manager told me to just try to slap it to left since I couldn't turn into the ball. So I just tried to poke it the opposite way and luckily hit a line drive over the shortstop's head.
I knocked in 3 runs yesterday but it was pretty hollow and not much of a consolation since we got our teeth kicked in, I played like a bum and my ankle got jacked up. I'm sitting here typing this out with my foot elevated and iced. I might have to actually take Andy Cornell's advice and go get x-rays tomorrow. Plus, Gwyn is in Connecticut this week and she's not home to pamper me. It's just me and Jeets, my cat, and he's not interested in pampering anybody. That's not the way he rolls.
(If you want to keep track of my old guy's team, just go here: http://www.turfsports.net/orioles_baseball.html )