Three AM. I am awake, staring into a mirrored ceiling that reflects a veteran kickball commentator/journalist (that would be
me) wrapped in satin sheets, an unnamed Stiletto sleeping (hell, snoring ) to my immediate left, BSRmadillo to my right (sidenote: I must say, these teams do get along after all). But alas. I, Romaine Jackson, Interim Director of Kickball Operations, cannot sleep. Instead, I find myself pondering the carnage of weeks past.

The 2007 Providence Kickball League season is in full swing. And with that comes my assessment of each team. From the nest of Eagles, I, your kickball equivalent of Bob Costas (that's Mr. Costas to you chump!), offer my thoughts.


The Guerrilla Gardeners don't actually practice,
in the same sense that Robert Johnson never actually sat around and played scales. Like the aforementioned King of the Delta Blues, the Gardeners receive their powers from a source outside of themselves. Robert Johnson had a mutually understood contract between himself and Satan; The Gardeners eat pot brownies and harness the power of the sun. They are, quite simply, the greatest defensive kickball squadron in the history of the sport. Rich and Chris Ackley being on the same team is akin to Ricky Henderson AND Lou Brock joining forces. Throw in Ozzie Smith for good measure. But why the lack of championships (just one, I think)? Are the Gardeners kickball's equivalent to The Atlanta Braves? Always making it to the hyperdome for the big show, but never experiencing the full-tilt September glory of pouring 'Gansett on their heads from the Olneyville Championship Cup. My god, how I'd kill to see 'Gansett dripping down to the tightly-wound pelvis of Mr. Happy-Pants... We shall see, Gardeners...We. Shall. See.

I think that the best addition to this here team, besides some extremely cute girls who are too cool to talk to the likes of Romaine, is this long-haired pitcher dressed in black in the middle of July who wears spikes up and down his forearm and says "Neep!" a lot. Not what you'd expect from a team representing an ivy-league radio station. Oh! I almost forgot Kris, the BSR ringer who may singlehandedly bring this squadron to 3-3 by season's end. Cool fucking dude, too. But guys...the pink hats? TOOOOO...IIIIIII...RONNN...ICCCC!!! (say it like "Unnn...Claimed Freight!") You don't see ringer Kris with a pink hat, do you? And he's...good.
My pick to take it all in the Freedom Division. Formerly the maelstrom of kickball efficiency known as Penetrator (or Daggers Lite, or Diet Daggers, or Daggers Free, etc...), these young to not-so young men of solid work ethic, local entrepreneurship and mid-level management positions in high-tech startups have since found religion, and are kicking it for Jesus 24-7. And why not? I think it's high time that this league, to paraphrase Cab Calloway, got some churchin' up. Bottom line: These goddamn priests kick holy ass, and I'm not saying that just because I'm Catholic. That is all, as they seem to have no other interesting characteristics besides the fact that they hold it fucking down on the field while wearing robes.

Formerly the Untouchiballs, the 2006 Liberty Division champions have returned as a cadre of polo shirt-sporting, martini drinking Bonesmen (and women) ready to win it all in the PKL just prior to their scheduled takeover of the world's respective financial, legal, political, and intelligence industries. And hats off too 'em. Great people; solid squad. But be warned, Bluebloods! Don't rest on your fannies and dismiss these other teams like they went to Harvard or something...That plum job with the Carlyle Group may be awaiting you, but without the PKL championship cup, what's it all worth? What indeed...

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