Quote Quote Quote Softball

Santo cielo what a week ragazzi! I had another crazy week at work that I’ll summarize as follows:

Monday: Check email and be boggled at the fact that I received a few sent on a Sunday (the pope is crying somewhere), quote, quote, quote, Lunch, quote, quote, quote, call to Paris (our European Headquarter) for approval to…quote, quote.

Tuesday: Run all over Milan trying to find at ATM that wasn’t out of service, almost miss my train to Padova, broker visit, broker visit, Lunch, broker visit, broker visit, Train to Milan- nap.

Wednesday: Cry when I see 87 unread messages (none of them being fun ones), of which about 75% had those completely annoying red exclamation points with the word “URGENTE” in the subject line, quote, quote, quote, lunch, quote, quote, call it a day because I was clearly about to die.

Thursday: see Monday

Friday: after an emotionally exhausting week of, ummm, quoting, I decided to take a nice easy morning (we only work til 12:30 on Fridays. Got to love these National contracts!), so I read msnbc.com for a while, checked my email and called it a day early, so I could go to softball practice. It almost felt like high school with a salary!

Anyway, this weekend we had a Springtime Tournament hosted by my team BSC Milano, and I must say, I rocked some socks. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve lost a good bit of weight on my diet of Mozzarella di Bufala, espresso and gelato or maybe its just because I’m American and genetics came through for me- but I have been pitching really well.

That being said, I have never seen a circus like the tournament this past weekend. While I’ve seen some legitimately good players (many coming from Cuba and the Dominican Republic), most of the teams are fairly new to the game. I have NEVER, EVER seen so many people ready to throw down and rumble though! It was like West Side Story meets a League of Their Own.

This for me all culminated in the 2nd of 3 games I pitched, where one of their players bunted in a way that was technically incorrect (incorrect, pronounced: stu-pid) and turned into the ball. Now, he turned into the pitch, which hit the bat before bouncing up and striking the player.

The sound of the pitch striking the bat was like the shot heard round the world, but his coach insisted he had been hit by the pitch (difference being, I threw a strike whereas the coach wanted him to take a base). When the umpire called a strike, the coach flipped out, claiming I hit him on purpose. First, it is incredibly insulting to suggest that I’m that nasty, dirty (and mind reading- I clearly should have foretold that he would turn into the pitch after I had released it) player. Second, I was taken back when not three seconds after a gang war broke out on the field because of what he said, he says “You do that again, and I’m coming out on the field”. WHAT!!! In the course of three seconds it went from being a fun game to World War III. Of course, a guy like this wouldn’t settle for anything but “putting me in my place” and so came up to bat in the next inning with an aggression in his eyes that I don’t think I’ve ever seen in another human being. I soundly sent him back to the dug out in four pitches, fairly humiliated to be taken down so swiftly, and by an American Girl nonetheless. Then to round out his day of unsportsmanlike conduct, he refused to attend the (as my Mom calls it) “handshake of peace” at the end of the game. What a winner.

So loyal readers of experience.com…come down to Milan this weekend- I need emotional support at Sunday’s game!