Wednesday, July 30, 2003 :::
 
"You should never throw over you're your real friends and in the end it might be better to give the trophy back." Pillform #1 & 2, Gordon Downie, Battle of the Nudes

I started this summer in a bad spot. Rather, I had a rough spot in my thinking or emotions or what have you, that caused a bit of friction in my daily interactions with people. I quickly learned how to absorb the heat, to sustain damge to myself rather than inflict it on others. This can be painful and damaging, but like any good ecologist will tell you, sometimes a forest fire is good, that it is actually better for the forest to burn. "When will children learn to let their wildernesses burn?" We Live Again, Beck, Mutations

I began playing softball with some folks I had met last year through my friend Larry. This year we started again. The first few games I played using somebody else/s glove. Then I got my own, the first mitt that was ever completely mine. I am a competent player: I can bat, I can field, I can throw, and sometimes I can help rally some team morale. Playing ball has proven to be an outlet for me, something to help dissipate the fricitonal heat for me. Sundays and Tuesdays, man, are my summer's saving grace.

Then one Sunday warming up before a game, I met a guy named Arnold. A tall lanky fellow whose relaxed mannerisms and genuine sincerity put you at ease. This is the same Sunday I brought my new mitt. And the same Sunday I met Sarah. She fits the archetype image of my ideal woman. The type of woman whose interest I can't seem to hold, who finds me boring rather than attractive. Arnold and Sarah had some kind of thing going, or did they? It was hard to tell. i still don't know for sure, but there seemed to be some familiarity, some chemistry at work there.

Throughout the game, I found it easy to relate to Arnold. A likable fellow with similar interests, similar dispositions, and unfortunately, similar tast in girls. I didn't fully realise this until later. At the end of the first game I thought i should learn this girl's name, the girl who captivated me, the girl who skinned her knee: "that looks like it hurts. how'd you do that?" She squinted at me and said, "I fell," and then looked at her friend who had been my quiet teammate. They continue their conversation. Before I became painfully awkward I managed to extend my hand and ask, "My name's Matt. What's your name?" She gave me the best three fingers of her right hand and said, "Sarah ... ," through her squinty eyes. those eyes that returned to normal when she looked back to her friend.

Arnold won her over, I think. I'll compete on the field but I'm bad in bench and grandstand competitions. I realize that he's probably known her for longer, maybe wanted her more, and definitely seems to have worked harder. i thought was gaining ground, and that he was disinterested. In the end though, i'm glad tohave met Arnold. And Sarah for that matte. I get the experience, the growth that I;'ll take elsewhere to succeed with. My trophy lay in another arena. I'd rather leave that dialog open than lwave withthe trophy and have it closed.

And then of course this is all how it looks until jsut last week when another dude, Gus, gave ol' Sarah a mix CD behind the batting cage. And she seems to be out on the market, but defintiely aware that there's a coupla prospectus out there. And yesterday, after playing (we've been on the same team the past few games, and we finally won a game), Gus and Sarah stood in front of me discussing what they may or may not do over the next few days,etc. And she looked at me, as if to say, do you see how this works? do you see how easy this is? all you have to do is try. As if to say, do you see where this is going? Do you see how this is kind of awkward for me, too? And with that thought, I saw Sarah as soembody new, sombedy, who wants to be social, but not necessarily always hit on, asked out on dates, jonesed for, but somebody who sometimes jsut wants to be a person.



::: posted by Matt Dunegan at 9:56 AM