Picture it. Washington, January 2010. A group of friends joined a Skee-Ball league (team name "Riskee Business" - clever eh?) at a local watering hole to help fight the wintertime blues. Long story short, we rocked the league, won high score prizes and acclaim left and right, but the season took a tragic end at the Championship game that is still way too painful to discuss. Verdict: No more skee ball league.
Fast forward to April 19, 2011. You can see a few pictures from our latest walk together. (I, Beth had to leave town Wednesday for the Promised Land - Moultrie - so had no time to walk. Cousin walked 8 miles Saturday! Waiting on her to blog her experiences. Just blog it out, Cuz.) What was probably the best part of the walk is our t-shirts. Cousin is wearing her Skee-Ball Fanatic t-shirt and I am wearing my DC Skee League shirt. So we are showing our awesomeness all around the city. Not lame at all.
Picture it, Spring 2010. A "friend" whom we refer to as "Terr*rist" invites the whole gang to a kick ball league, promising patriotism (the games are on the lawn of the Washington Monument), great weather (Spring in DC is usually glorious), beer (games are followed by flip cup matches at a nearby watering hole against your kick ball opponent) and the spoils of victory (not sure what our final record was but I think it was about as good as Ole Miss's football team on any given year). I only went a few times - I got caught in the rain, the crowd was too rowdy at flip cup, I am terrible at not only infield but outfield for kickball. Not my cup of tea. Cousin attended many, many more games, with just as little luck for the extracurricular portion, but much more luck with the socializing and cup flipping. Verdict: Politely decline Terr*rist's invitaiton to the Spring 2011 league.
Again, we fast forward to April 19, 2011. We had just begun our walk and found a delightful park in South East about 8 blocks from home. It was an oasis in a city of concrete and bustle. Then we noticed the matching t's. There were clumps of red, blue, pink and green all around. "We've seen this before!" we thought, remembering the lackluster season of kickball from yesteryear. But something was different. Instead of the loud, sweaty, ratty Umbro short-wearing scrubs we were accustomed to seeing at kickball, these people were speaking in normal tones, wearing khaki pants with their t's, sipping from red solo cups, enjoying the weather and civilized camaraderie. What is this place?! As we neared the crowd, we saw it was a DC Bocce League. Could this be our next attempt at social sports? Who knows! We have missed the Spring Sign up, but I think Summer is very possible. I'll secure the domain "BTbocceindc.blogspot.com' just in case.
The rest of the walk was a little of this, a little of that. We saw Henry, the proprietor of one of our favorite Mexican Restaurants and his sons Eddie, Little Henry and Secret. They were going to play at the playground. We caught up with Eddie and asked how school was. He's our favorite 9 year old by far. Henry and Secret were already at the playground, so we let Eddie run along, but promised to see him soon. We had more miles to walk, and the day was drawing to a close. Much like this long, self-indulgent blog post.
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