Finally, A Winning Team of Our Own? The Brooklyn Bulldogs

All hail the conquering heroes!

Bring on the ticker tape, Park Slope has a team we can all get behind (well, all you non-Husky, non-Bonnie, non park teamers).

Ladies and Gentleman, Breeders and Ballers, Car(e) Free and Roadified, I give you arguably the best team in Brooklyn b-ball: The 78th Precinct's very own Brooklyn Bulldogs (Orange 11s). Shit, it sounded better when I left out the orange 11 part.

Yes, my little pitcher threw a complete game of only 60 pitches for the championship win against the Somebody-Or-Other Vipers, even with a ringer 6 foot tall "11-year-old" who outweighed my son by a good 100 lbs.

The proud BREEDERS were screaming our heads off. And yes, my husband was thanking his lucky stars that the kids weren't born with my eye-hand coordination (even I turned off brick breaker and jumped up and down when little big man Stu hit that grand slam home run).

Plus, what with Linda, an otherwise erudite and sophisticated career woman, screaming her ever loving head off next to me, it was hard to concentrate. I don't know if I can actually call what she does cheerleading. More, performance art cum bad first year social work counseling. "Better luck next time, honey!!!" "Shake it off" "Don't let 'em get you down" "You can do it!!!"

Linda's 8-year-old spent the game ducking under his baseball cap and exhorting his mom to give it a rest. She told him that this was only going to make her yell louder.

I say: you go, girl! You can do it, Linda. You are all you can be, babe! You tell 'em. Get the lady some pom poms!

And Linda had nothing on some of those Jersey Shore little league moms--those broads are H-A-R-D C-O-R-E. The grandmothers were particularly awesome, especially the ones whose voices that had dropped several octaves, the result of (just a guess here) of decades of smoking mentholated Newports. "You're laaaaaaaaayyyttttte on the swing. Get it tuhgethahhhh!" 

And to think I could have missed it. I didn't even mean to spend the weekend in South Jersey, especially after getting a look at that Jersey Shore titty dude Erica had up on Friday. But the lure of the East Brunswick Hilton with its chandeliers, fountain and all-important pool was too much for the younger. Dimples caused a scandal of her own by going topless in her boy bathing suit at said pool. The soccer tourney girls couldn't figure out whether she was a long-haired, pierced boy or a shocking, appallingly undressed girl.

Anyway, I say screw the Yankees and their "franchise." Fuck the Mets. Let's face it, they suck. I love you Cyclones but for the purposes of this blog post, you're dead to me. 

Truth be told, all the things I know about baseball would fit on the back of a postage stamp. If I never have to watch another televised game again, it will be too soon. But I'm coming around to the efficacy of little league. 

So, despite my utter lack of knowledge and credibility, I say, join me. Leave your fields to flower. Let's find a moment of comity and team spirit for our divided hood. T-shirts on sale for only....(Oh crap, we don't sell them. That could have been good!).

PS. this weekend, Park Sloper and former Bulldog, Adam Ottavino made his professional pitching debut with the St. Louis Cardinals. And, he's kind of hot.