BWP: The King's Triumphant Return

Dear Reader,

It has been a while since I have written a Boston Wiff Party. As I graduated from Boston University, put on my big boy pants, and stepped out into the real world I thought there wasn’t any time for wiffleball. I’m an adult now, and I need to act like one. I need to find a stable job, I need to pay taxes, and I need to go to bed at a reasonable hour. These were things I told myself constantly as I woke up at 11:00am, hungover and unemployed. Did I have time for wiffleball? Yes. Should I have used my free time to get in shape? Sure. But I didn’t do any of those things. I sat around, played NHL15, and stopped playing wiffleball. I stopped watching wiffleball videos. I stopped writing about the sport that made me who I am today; Bacon, mother-f**king, Barber. So here I am, Michael Jordan-ing to the sport that gave me everything. And you know what, I may be better than MJ. I’m still young, I’m still healthy (relatively speaking, cholesterol may be a little high) and I’m not up to my neck in gambling debt. So here it is, I’m back and I’m bringing it my all!

Now before you all start cheering and hyping up the 2001 wizards again, some things are different and I’m going to use my journalistic powers to call out a few people that I think need a talking to.

First I would like to call out past members of the OCWA. This is a call out of the players, the spectators, and my friends and family. Wiffleball has given us nothing but love. It kept up active while we could have been sitting in our houses playing halo. It brought us close to people we may not have been close with. Wiffleball was the best part of every summer. Taking time off work just so I can make some games. Having my boss tell me to leave because, “don’t I have a game today?” Eating Mama bush’s chocolate chip cookies, and perfectly soft rice krispie treats. Some of my greatest memories happened on Bush grapes park and I think we really let the field down. My final year was with the Strong Tough Dudes. We were one of the toughest teams to hit the field. Roided and Roedered out we were determined to win the chip. That was thing about wiff, everyone was always ready to get a game going. After I retired people stopped showing up. I mean there may be a correlation there, but I’m not one to speculate. We lost the heart. It is always difficult to get twenty or so 20-24-year-old guys to do anything. We are stubborn and always coming up with excuses to not makes games. Like, I have a work, or I don’t live in Rochester anymore. I’m sick of the excuses and I’m sick of not playing wiffleball. If any of you old farts want to hike up those shorts, cut off those sleeves, and throw on your grossest and dirtiest pair of crocs mocs, or anything in-between, I challenge you to sign up for this year’s opening day tournament. Let’s make OCWA great again.

Next I want to call out the commissioners. The semi-professional wiffleball players. WHY DID IT TAKE YOU THIS LONG TO OPEN UP OCWA to the outside world? Wiffleballers are the weirdest group of people in the world and we should all be one big happy family. This rant is much shorter but come on guys, think with your wallets. Registration fees, merchandizing, branding. I’ve seen those Astros jersey’s you wear and hell Ryan is basically a graphic designer. Make your passion a business!

And now I want to call out one specific person. He falls under the last two categories and I’ve even written articles about him. Ryan Douglas Bush, beautiful middle name by the way, you are the best wiffleball player I have ever seen in my life. You swing like a god damn animal. Your arms are made of a perfect combination of muscle, mustard, cheese and gas. You are a specimen that rivals that of a Grecian god. Why on earth do you want to play in a slow pitch league? I’ve seen you throw a 95 mph fast ball. I have taken one to the ear. Just please for the love of all the is good in the world, don’t ever stop using that arm.

Now that I have gotten that off my chest I want to explain my return. I hope to do a few more of these Boston Wiff Parties in the next few weeks leading up to the main event. I miss the home, the field and the times so I’m going to write about them again. Some exciting things are happening with the OCWA and with our group of wiffle toting friends. This year marks the 9th annual opening day tournament. That means next year it will be 10 years that we have been playing wiffleball together. Some of us took breaks, so of us moved away, and some of us are just too lazy to get back out there and play. I may be guilty of all three and for a while now I have had this pit in my stomach where I felt like something is missing. That thing is wiffleball. I’m not coming back to support a great league. I’m not coming back to prove I still have it, I’m sure I will suck so bad this year. I am coming back because like I said before, some of my greatest memories happened on that wiffleball field and I’m not ready to give that up quite yet.

So stay tuned to more BWP. Hopefully I can come up with some ideas to write about. And look out for a very special episode of Out of Touch with Goose and Bacon where we have Ryan and maybe Jay on the show so we can talk about the OCWA and what we can expect in the future. Thanks for listening and I can’t wait to get back on that field.

Love always,