Go to hell Senor Zaire, first name Louis

Getting into the playoffs was remarkable-esque, but it came to an abrupt and surprisingly disappointing halt on Wednesday. Though our opponent had been undefeated and was stocked with burly marines the size of Redwoods, we were tied at 3 at the end of 6 innings. Unfortunately, we fell apart and lost by four. I was also pissed that the other team weren't exactly sportsman, bragging, hot dogging, yelling at our team to "drop it" on pop flies, etc. No cause for that. This is supposed to be fun. Ee Gee:
During one of my at-bats, I hit a foul ball straight up

let's freeze that image temporarily, the ball spinning on its upward trajectory, while I interject with the fact that on our first day of JFSC, back on June 26th, we had to wait in a few lines to in-process, get our pictures taken, etc. In one line, I stood next to this AF security forces guy named Mike and we chatted.
Mike was playing catcher for the other team during last night's game. I'm not sure if he remembered me, but I did him.

so my ball, rather than flying over the backstop, or hitting it and bouncing back down, happened to become lodged directly over the plate. Mike immediately stepped up with his glove, jokingly, in case the ball happened to drop down. So I immediately tackled him and pushed him into the back fence. To the guffaws and delight of the folks in the stands. By this time, the stupid umpire (who cost us several calls) decided to toss a different ball into the air to dislodge the first one, which didn't work, but the first ball nearly hit me in the head. So I went after the ump with my bat. More chortles. I then proceeded to hit the next pitch very very far, only it was caught.

Purtz.
All the more disappointing since it seems my next organized military sport is going to be curling or reindeer tossing or whatever they do in Siberia in November.