THE BLOG THAT MARTY LYNCH WRITES: I've Missed You.........Not Really

As you can see by my last post, it's been three years since I've written a blog, so it may take me a while until I'm back up to speed on things. As some of you former readers may recall, I'm not really big into heaping praise on people, but I do have a knack for observing individual shortcomings.

With that in mind, there were a couple of performances last week that shouldn’t be overlooked, the first of which involves my own team, Boccelism. Typically, I am able to single-handedly carry the weight of the entire team on my shoulders, this past week; however, I had complete and total dead weight to deal with. While I am the first to admit that I’m perfect, I must also admit that I’m not Hercules. I am stuck with Hope Reimer, who can barely pick up the ball; Sherry Tighe, who can barely find the court we’re on; and the lovely Mrs. Lynch, who can barely spell her own name. With these balls and chains wrapped around me, it’s amazing we scored any points at all.

That would be Sherry and Suzanne watching me do some pre-game warm ups.

Hope was busy with her own pre-game routine.

Speaking of scoring no points at all, there are only two ways this can happen. First, fail to show up and forfeit the games 11-0, and 11-0. Second, show up and be the Blue Star Ballers. That’s right, the Blue Star Ballers drove in from Chagrin Falls, Cleveland Heights, and Hinkley, only to have their balls squeezed in a vise by the Wise-Pokorny squad, Bump My Balls.

The Blue Star Ballers are the only team in the league to have a bar sponsor them. Yep, the Blue Star Tavern paid the $280 entry fee, which only goes to prove the point, if you give shit to people for free, they don’t care about it. New rule, no more Section 8 league members.

One of the Blue Star Ballers, Anne O’Shaughnessy-Smith told me that the team they played was "really, really, really good." I think the truth of the matter is that Anne’s team is really, really, really bad.

Another Baller, Margaret Duhigg, claimed the balls were very slippery. Hey Margaret, I watched your team suck down nine dozen chicken wings before the game. As a friendly suggestion, perhaps you folks might consider washy the greasy BBQ sauce off your grimy fingers before kickoff. Just something to think about.