Next Friday, our division will be playing another company team in a friendly game of softball. While I was away, the team decided to practice during yesterday's lunch hour. Since I came to work dressed in regular office attire (collared shirt, slacks, dress shoes), I had no intention of playing.

Any normal person would resist the persistent peer pressure, pass on the practice and agree to show up for next week's session in more appropriate attire. Since that's not me, I doffed the collared shirt for a Goofy t-shirt (no really, Goofy's face was on it), snatched my glove from a filing cabinet and grabbed an aluminum bat from my car trunk (that's what happens when I don't put things away).

Since I'm a huge baseball fan, most of my coworkers assume I play softball well. I effortlessly proved them wrong. I swing indiscriminately at any ball within reach of a wildly waved bat. In my repertoire is a golf swing for those pitches in danger of falling in front of the plate and a helicopter swing for everything above my head. Strange things happen when the ball and my glove attempt to meet.

Anyway, the team looked good in practice and ready to play. For health reasons, I hope next week's weather is cooler.