Check out my friends finger from our 16 inch game last week. He got a liner smoked to him at second base in our Schiller league and lost it in the lights. He still knocked it down though and made the play throwing him out with his fucked up hand then calmly walked off the field and said “gotta go, broke my finger” and drove his car to Res.
The 3 surest signs of Summertime in Chicago:
1. When every patio is packed to the brim with people drinking Miller Lite
2. When you finally turn the knob in your car from heat to A/C
3. When you see the first disgusting broken finger from 16 inch softball
What a shame that this happened so early in the season for this guy. Not only does he miss basically the whole year, but now he’s gotta walk around all Summer like the guy from Scary Movie 2. Just clawing at his beer while he’s got the big dumbass stint attached to it.
I love his casualness though. “Well, that’s it boys see ya later.” He knows the drill. No need for the theatrics or the hoopla, just walk off the field hop into your car and stare at your pinky bone during the ride to Res.
That’s 16 inch. Live and die by the broken fingers.