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Okay. Well... I'll just call the President and suggest to him that he allow a huge bipartisan vote on the floor of the U.S. House of Representatives calling him a liar, and that he welcome the result. Then, I'm gonna flap my wings and fly to Neverland. You think I am so desperate to cover my ass, I'm gonna roll over on Jed Bartlet? I take a bullet for the President. He doesn't take one for me. Is that all you got?
Since
I’ve been working on another fictional piece; it takes place in my Hope Station universe, but it’s about baseball. It does not yet have a title, and I have much much more than this typed up, but I wanted to toss this around here for some feedback.
The public address system called for applause as the defense took the field. She watched Kimiko throw a few more warm-up pitches to Mariposa before the Cubs’ leadoff hitter approached the plate. Tessa perched on her stool she brought in, placed by the mesh fence protecting the dugout and watched the game start. In the dugout, her batting and pitching coaches made use of the displays and sensor equipment available to them, and if she were so inclined, she could sit inside the dugout and do the same. However, when she tried to manage using the technology, she believed herself to be too disconnected from the pulse of the game, having to rely on fatigue warnings, defensive projections, and other computer-generated outputs. No, she wanted to smell the grass, the dirt, and watch her players play the game.
Tessa did, however, use the radio system during defense. Every player on the field had a small communications device in their ear, with the exception of the pitcher; Kimiko preferred to pitch using the old signs from the catcher, and Mariposa was happy to oblige her. She had said that it ruined her concentration to listen to the chatter over the radio.
Crouched in the catcher’s position, Mariposa gave her a sign, and Kimiko went into her wind-up by twisting her body back to the left and lifting her right leg up before throwing the ball in a submariner style. As soon as the pitch left her hand, Tessa knew it would be straight heat. When the pitch slapped into Mariposa’s mitt loudly and the umpire called strike one, Tessa’s head snapped around to read the speed display in the dugout. It read 168kmh (105mph). Tessa blinked for a brief moment before hearing the crowd’s reaction to the pitch’s speed.
The Cubs hitter’s look of astonishment was brief, but visible. Quickly, he returned to his stance, ready to time the next pitch in an attempt to make contact. He narrowed his eyes and stared at Kimiko with all the ferocity he could muster.
Kimiko came set, lifted her leg again, and fired off her second pitch of the game. The Cubs hitter smirked and swung, keeping his arc down to try and hit the ball on the ground. He swung through and the umpire called strike two.
The display read: 172kmh (107mph).
Tessa tried to keep her expression as calm as possible, but could not help smiling.
The Cubs’ hitter was visibly angry, now. Tessa knew him to be a more experienced hitter, but he had never faced Kimiko before. This was a brand new team, with more than half of its players coming in and trying out off the street. Very little game data had been produced, but Tessa knew that if Kimiko kept throwing like this, there would be scouts following the Giants everywhere to get a look at her.
On the third pitch, Kimiko’s hand moved slightly in a twisting direction. The ball moved significantly slower and danced around in the air before landing down and in.
The Cubs hitter was frozen in place.
The umpire screamed, “Strike three!” He gestured in the bow-and-arrow fashion to signal the out, and the crowd went wild.
Tessa beamed. She looked over at her pitching coach and smiled at him. She remarked, “Perfect weather for a ballgame, isn’t it?”
Yet another series I’m watching this week (not for the show or anything) is Prince of Tennis, or TENISU no Oujisama. It’s pretty good, and has a lot of seiyuu I happen to be a fan of… not to mention it feels like Kenshin, except with tennis
Seriously awesome series… do not let another minute go by before downloading these episodes from Animesuki.
I’m going to keep watching until I drop!
These are the best seats I’ve nabbed alllll year. I will post from those seats tonight. Take a look!
Yeah, I’ve gone over the deep end with this series. These little guys have invaded my soul, because I can’t get enough of this damn show! I would like to officially curse Soldats for working on Monster instead of Keroro Gunsou like they should. I ventured over to their forums, and they are getting /killed/ by the fans for not working on Keroro and putting out Monster over the summer months. They’re claiming their taking a vacation, but they can’t say that when over the last month, they’ve put out 5 episodes of this other series
No one’s watching Monster, guys, the masses have spoken.
Now, a word about fansubbers in general:
Claim #1: We’re not doing this for any kind of recognition. Yeah, bullshit. If you truly weren’t doing this for recognition, then sub it and distribute it to your friends only. Don’t create a website or forums for people to feed your egos.
Claim #2: We don’t owe you anything! No, you don’t (technically). But when you keep up a certain pace and set expectations, then you suffer the failure of those expectations. You can’t honestly expect not to get whipped by people when you fail them, even if it’s a free service. And you know what I say about free service? Due to complaints about the free service, there will no longer be any free service.
As you can see, I have a short fuse when my bullshit-o-meter buries the fucking needle. I’ve worked with fansub groups in the past; so I have a nominal understanding of what these groups go through, but to say one thing (we’re on vacation) and then do another (put out episodes of a shitty anime), how the hell can you expect us to beleive you? Either put out or close shop, guys. Seriously.
Ah, yes, the weekend. My work ends at noon on Saturday, or rather, it’s supposed to. My weekend got a little delayed due to a couple of critical issues that popped up not thirty minutes before I was supposed to leave. I don’t feel right about leaving my relief in the middle of a crit even though I was officially off the clock, so I stayed an extra thirty minutes to make certain he understood exactly what was going on and what was expected to happen in the next hour. Unfortunately, that meant
I totally blew my diet away this weekend, and I knew I would. I had pizza, hot dogs, clam chowder in a sourdough bread bowl (I love PBP), and fried Menchi. Yeah, that’s right, sports fans, I ate fried Menchi. There’s a little place in Japan Center called “On the Bridge,” and they serve Menchi Katsu. These guys love anime, I’m telling you. You can sit in there and read manga (you can borrwo one of theirs, or bring one of your own). However, I did work out both days. I walked, I DDR’ed, I walked some more… PBP isn’t a bandbox, y’know. And speaking of the park, on Sunday night, I got seats in the sixth row from the first base side, on the west part of the section just to the east of the bag. I could smell dirt, and the two horny girls sitting to my right could apparently see underwear lines in the baserunners as well as J.T. Snow. I kind of wondered if they were also ogling the first base coach for both teams.
They drank; I didn’t. I draw the line in the sand pretty thick when it’s me behind the wheel. Not that I drink anyway… I had stomach problems through the eighth grade and it weakened my ability to process certain things; cheese and alcohol being the top two. This isn’t the case anymore, of course. I drink alcohol on occasion, although the very first time I tested it, I was scared out of my mind thinking I was about to throw it all up. I couldn’t even keep NyQuil down before. Anyway, when I figured it out, I drank wine. First, cabernet, and now merlot. I love the merlot. Back to the story… Sunday night after the game, these two crazy people dragged me over to Momo’s, so I could sit there and drink cherry coke while they tried to pick up ballplayers. ****** Let these six astericks attest to the fact that upon writing that last sentence, I laughed out loud. Not that they’re not attractive, but it’s about as likely that they were going to convince A.J. and Dustin to go to bed with them after downing Kamikazes, a Brain Hemmohrage, and I forgot what else. By the way… had Pudding been actually able to convince A.J., that pretty much meant my ass was going to be sleeping in the tub. No, wait.. screw that! They had another hotel they could go to
Man, I can wait for the MLB to induct women players.
Sidenote: How can anyone… anyone not like For Love of the Game? This movie rules all.