I singled to right. No, seriously.

Those of you who played softball with me in Chicago will struggle to believe me, but I singled to right today. Right over a leaping firstbaseman, driving in two runs.

Famously--or maybe the opposite of that, wherein no one gives a crap--I went through a stretch in slow-pitch softball in grad school of being unable to hit a fair ball, on account of always swinging way to early. My solution was not to learn patience, but to start with my bat in front of the plate, and yank it back to the elbows-out position only after the ball was released. This cockamamie system worked, but I could still only rip balls down the line, in the hole, or just to the left of second base. Even if I was trying to aim to right. I defined dead-pull hitter.

Well, in this modified fast pitch league I'm playing in, I don't have that luxury. There's no windup, so the delivery is sort of like a bowling motion--it's not that fast, but too fast for my loopy swing. Mostly I'm looking for a pitch inner-half to pull inside the 3rd base bag. Except for with two strikes on me, when I'm actually choking up and slapping at the ball a bit. It's worked pretty well.

The exact pitch sequence, for posterity:

1. Taken, strike on the inside corner. Not a good pitch to swing at for the first strike.
2. Taken, ball high.
3. Taken, strike about 4 inches outside. Ok, if that's the way we're going to be...
4. Taken, ball low. Almost got me to swing.
5. Pitch about 2 inches outside. Sorta had to swing there. Stepped into it and drove it to the right side.

Surprisingly, I did not hear trumpets or see horsemen.