Go big. Or go home.
I’m in Chicago right now, so I can’t go home.
Thanks to the Blue Wahoos, who inspired this really, REALLY long rankings article. Apologies in advance both for the length, and the quality. I spent forever writign it, which meant I had no motivation left to do much editing or proofreading.
Enjoy?
Time for jokes…
Being season 20, the honorable Huckleberry Finnegan (Huck Finn’s full name) was taking no chances with Wifflepalooza. To ensure everything was set up properly, and to his precise specifications, he assigned one member from each team to show up early Saturday morning to finish getting lovely beautiful tolerable Sky Hill Park ready for a great day of wiffleball.
Nightmare arrived at the fields right on time. Not having to play in Wifflepalooza (prediction!), he wanted to get this busy work over with so he could enjoy the rest of his Saturday yelling at kids to stay off his lawn from the rocking chair he often occupied on his front porch (you know, cause he’s old).
“Curses!” He shouted to no one in particular, “fricking rain.”
But this wasn’t just any rain. Little did he know, this was a freak storm that had raced across the country overnight. Before that, it had sped across the Pacific Ocean for days, growing in strength and ferocity along the way.
But this wasn’t any freak storm that traveled thousands of miles in just a couple short days, this was a sharkphoon! (You know, shark + typhoon)
It’s known far and wide that HRL’ers, generally speaking, laugh in the face of the weather, and this day was no different. A little “fricking rain” wasn’t going to stop Nightmare, or the other 23 (or so) wiffleballers who showed up to set up for the greatest day in sports.
Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for the sharkphoon to wreak havoc on this day. Within minutes the water was coming down in sheets and they could almost see the water rising. Taking shelter under a couple pop up tents set up for the day, they soon realize the day was going to be a wash out and they’d have to retreat to their cars.
Nightmare, being the most eager to leave, was the first to reach the rink wall (which, in this reality fully encloses the rink… and are water tight. It’s a story, just go with it).
“Oh snap!” Nightmare said. “The water on the outside of the rink is already like a foot deep. WTF?” He looked around, only now noticing that in just a few minutes so much rain had fallen that Sky Hill rink was on the verge of being washed away.
“And there’s sharks!” A voice behind him proclaimed. Turning around to see who was speaking, Nightmare was surprised to see The Mart looking over his shoulder into the rapidly rising water, drinking a Miller Lite.
“We’re going to have to figure out how to get the F out of here.” Nightmare said.
“Obviously.” The Mart said, handing Nightmare a beer.
Chapter 1
The first guy to offer Nightmare and The Mart some help was Murse of the Chihuahuas (23-1). “I think we need to get out past the parking lot, the water doesn’t look as fast over there.” He offered. “I’ll go check it out. Hand me a bat.” He popped over the wall, not slowing down as The Mart tried to stop him and warn him about the sharks. “I’ll be right back.” Murse waded slowly into the water, making it about ten feet before a big a$$ shark popped up ahead of him, balancing on his tail like a dolphin.
“Dude. Hit it with the bat!” The Mart yelled, although not very loud because he’s pretty chill and not very loud, but Murse did nothing. The shark sorta tail-scooted closer.
“Swing the bat, dude!” Nightmare yelled, much louder, as he’s much less chill than The Mart, but still Murse did nothing. Even as the shark chomped down with a disgusting crunch, Murse didn’t swing.
“What was that about?” Mart asked.
“He didn’t swing,” Nightmare responded, shaking his head, “it wasn’t a strike.”
“This is going to be a long day, isn't it?” Marty asked. Nightmare nodded. Sad at the loss of a friend, but pretty proud of the stupid joke he just made.
Chapter 2
Fish of the Grasshoppers (22-2) watched Murse get chomped up from across the rink and chuckled. The guy doesn’t respect ANYONE! It’s pretty sad, really. But he got his, as another shark swam up behind him and gobbled him down in like 3 seconds. Because he’s Fish, and sharks love fish.
Chapter 3
Although no one saw what happened to Web Gem of the Aces (19-5), the working theory was that he was attempting to build some sort of contraption to float away on when a shark jumped up and ate him up, because (of course) he wasn’t wearing a short and he looked just too delicious to resist. Why did everyone think that? Because his dying words were, “No, not me, I’m too delicious to be eaten!”
“Yeah, you are.” Nightmare agreed as he watched his old nemesis get carried away by a pretty big shark.
“Were.” The Mart corrected.
“What?”
“Were. Past tense. He’s dead dude.” The Mart clarified insensitively, but not incorrectly.
Chapter 4
Almost to himself, Nightmare said to The Mart, “Get me Hondi.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. He’s a good wiffleballer and people hardly ever talk about him.”
“So, you’re going to mention him here, knowing you're probably just going to write about him getting eaten by a shark?”
“I suppose so. Yeah.”
“Okay.”
But Hondi didn’t get eaten by a shark. He just walked over, and when no one talked to him, he walked away.
Chapter 5
“I’m sick of this crap!”
Nightmare’s head spun around. He hadn’t heard anyone approach, so the gravely yet sexy voice surprised the bejeezus out of him. He turned just in time to see his favorite Yankee (21-7), Old Yeller, hop over the fence. Sharks instantly began approaching from several directions, but you know what happened? That silver fox just stared them down. One shark jumped at him, but stopped in midair, changed directions, and swam away. Another shark got a little too close and Yeller backhanded it so hard, Nightmare could swear he heard it whimpering as it swam away.
“He’s going to do it. He’s going to save us! We’re saved!” Someone shouted as they watched him slowly, but seductively, wade away.
Yeller stopped. Half turned around to look back over his shoulder at his leaguemates, then turned to keep walking. He stopped after another step and looked back shouting to Nightmare, “I can’t do this for you, friend. Come find me when this is through.” And he just sort of disappeared in a really cool and sexily mysterious way.
Chapter 6
It had been about a half hour since anyone had tried anything to escape, but the rain kept coming and the water level outside the rink kept rising, to nearly half the height of the walls now.
“We need to do something Brave (18-6) before the water reaches the top of the wall.” Sanchez said.
Nightmare, distracted at the loss of another long time friend responded, “What’s that?”
“Sanchez says… we—’ The Mart began before being interrupted by Nightmare.
“I know. I just wanted to make that joke.”
“You’re an idiot.” Several people all said.
Chapter 7
Spirits were getting pretty low as little bits of wiffleballers and blood began accumulating outside the rink. Everyone was looking to Nightmare now for leadership. Being the oldest, and the author of this story, it seemed only natural to everyone. He looked around the rink for about the hundredth time, searching for anything or anyone who might spark an idea for an escape. Then he spotted T-Sea, which got him thinking.
“Don’t do it.” The Mart said, disrupting his train of thought.
“Don’t do what?” Nightmare asked.
“Make a stupid pyramid joke.” Nightmare stared blankly at The Mart, who clearly has the ability to read minds in this tale. “T-Sea is going to build a pyramid or something stupid. Don’t. You’re better than that.”
“I’m really not.”
The Mart didn’t respond, but stared deep into Nightmare’s soul, somehow convincing him to abandon a joke that’s done so well okay. After a moment, Nightmare realized that he wasn’t looking at T-Sea, it was actually Antics… an easy mistake to make…
“Antics!” Nightmare shouted, “It’s so great to see you. I have an idea.”
“Anything for you Nightmare.” Antics said to the player he only recently began to admire.
“I need you to grab that bucket of balls and throw them at the sharks. You’ve got one hell of an arm, and if you could just hit a shark right in the nose at about 94 miles per hour, you’d save us all!”
“I can’t.” Antics said sheepishly. Almost in a whisper he added, “I can only throw 93.”
“Useless.” Nightmare responded, suddenly sickened by the sight of the nearly seven foot tall giant. “Go sit over there.”
Antics slinked away, embarrassed. Everyone averted their eyes as he walked past. Ashamed of him for letting his hero, Nightmare, down. Meanwhile, no one saw T-Sea assembling a pyramid-shaped bridge out of the rink towards the parking lot. Also, no one saw that pyramid bridge almost instantly collapse into the water where T-Sea, who is not a small man, got devoured by like 50 really tiny sharks.
Chapter 8
Nightmare was struck with inspiration. It was a long shot, but with a little luck, it might just work. “Get me Taco!”
“Yeah right.” The Mart responded. “No way Taco leaves his house in the rain.”
“True story.”
Chapter 9
Seriously. The story is all about Nightmare of the Vibes (16-9). Go to the next chapter.
Chapter 10
Nightmare and The Mart stare solemnly out at the rapidly rising water. Sharks as far as the eye could see.
“We need an idea, fast. And clearly, we aren’t smart enough to think of anything.” The Mart said, unhelpfully.
“That’s not very helpful.” Nightmare responded, knowing The Mart was right. “Or very nice.”
“Well, it’s the truth.”
“You’re right.” Nightmare admitted shifting his gaze from the water, chock full o’ sharks. I think I saw Sharpie from the Ponies (15-9) over there. I hear he’s a smart guy. Nightmare yelled for Sharpie to come take a look. Sharpie, eager to help started to jog over. Then run. Unfortunately, in his eagerness, he didn’t spot a cooler someone had left lying about a tripped over it with such great speed he tumbled over the wall of the rink and was instantly devoured by a hungry shark.
“I didn’t see that coming.” Nightmare said.
Chapter 11
Nightmare couldn’t stand still any longer. He had to move around. He needed to get the blood flowing. Maybe that would get him thinking of something to save his friends. So, he started walking laps around the rink.
On about his third trip around the rink, he noticed Lulu and Dr. Dipstuff. Until now, it hadn’t occurred to him that it was odd two Americans (14-10) had shown up for field set up. In particular, it was especially odd that it was these two guys, who aren’t known for their generosity or their helpfulness, who showed up. Nightmare decided that this wasn’t a very nice thing to think, and in fact maybe these two might have a helpful idea to get them out of this mess and decided to walk over to chat with them about their predicament. As he made his way over, he watched helplessly as Lulu pushed Dipstuff over the boards where he is immediately gobbled up by some hungry sharks.
“Learn to swim, stupid!” Lulu yells at his teammate as Nightmare pulls an about face and puts as much distance between himself and the murderous Lulu as he can.
Chapter 12
“Where’s Hjal.” Nightmare asked The Mart.
“From the Riders (14-11)?” The Mart responded.
“Yes, the one and only.”
Everyone started looking around for Hjal. Except The Mart, who even though just asked that clarifying question, knew what happened to Hjal. Nightmare catches on that his bespectacled friend knows what happened to Hjal and presses him for answers.
“He flew away.”
“What do you mean, ‘He flew away?’”
“Yeah, he had a sea plane. He got in and flew off.”
“Why didn’t you say anything? Or go with him to safety?”
“I thought it was more important to stay here. Seems like I’m kind of important to this story.”
Nightmare shrugged, “I suppose you will be now.”
The Mart smiled.
“You know, Jagr never would have left us here.”
Chapter 13
“Do you know where Torpedo of the Cyclones (12-14) got his nickname?” The Mart asked, passing Nightmare his third or fourth beer of the afternoon.
“No idea.”
“You think it’s maybe because he’s a great swimmer? Like a torpedo through the water?” The Mart hypothesized.
“No. I think it’s like Torpedo and Rocket, because they’re brothers.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s going to try and make a swim for it.”
Nightmare turned to see what The Mart was talking about and sees Torpedo dive into the water, swim about ten yards, and get wolfed down by a great white. “I don’t think he is a great swimmer.” He said as he turned away from the feeding frenzy.
“Was. Was a great swimmer.”
“No. He wasn’t.”
Chapter 14
It surprised no one that Groundskeeper Willie was at field set up meticulously manicuring the batters’ boxes before the Sharkphoon hit the rinks and washed all his work away. Where else would he be on the greatest day for field maintenance all season? What was surprising though, was the enormous boat just visible at the back of the parking lot.
“Oh cool. A boat.” The Mart observed.
“Don’t feed me to a shark.” It was Groundskeeper Willie, noticing Nightmare and The Mart notice the rather large boat he had on a trailer behind his beautiful Toyota 4Runner. “I’ve got a boat out there. That powerful SUV makes pulling such a large water vessel look easy. In addition, the car’s sleek lines and roomy interior will make our escape as roomy and comfortable as it will look cool and fast. So please, don’t feed me to a shark in your story.”
“What do you mean?” Nightmare asked, curious how Groundskeeper Willie knew exactly what he was planning.
“I see what’s going on here,” he says, “you're not feeding me to a stupid shark and then taking off with my boat. Keep me alive in this story.”
“You're incredibly astute, you know that?”
“Yeah, you’re not exactly Sherlock Holmes here, it’s pretty obvious.”
“Whatever, can we use the boat if you live to the end of the story?”
“Yes, obviously.”
“I guess he lives!” The Mart chimes in cheerily!
“Yes, the Mart, he lives. You didn’t have to say that.”
“I’m really trying to make my mark in this article.”
Chapter 15
“Hey, is that Diddy over there?” The Mart asks Nightmare.
“Don’t you dare!” He responds.
“What?”
“You know I’m a big HUGE Diddy fan, and things aren’t going so well for anyone I mention in this tale. If that is Diddy, that means my man probably gets eaten by a shark soon.”
The Mart sighs, “Oh yeah, right, that looks a little more like Mr. Mariner.”
Nightmare smiles, pleased. “Thanks.”
The Mart shakes his head and looks back across the rink to where Mr. Mariner, and definitely NOT Diddy, was standing. But he’s gone. “What happened?!”
“Oh, he got ate.” Groundskeeper Willier answered.
“What? What happened?”
GKW shrugged.
“Oh well.”
Chapter 16
“What if we had a distraction?” The Mart pondered aloud. “Someone to distract the sharks while the rest of us got away…”
It didn’t take long for the group’s wandering eyes to land on pNut.
“No way you guys. I know what you're all thinking, ‘Use the little guy as bait.’ But that’s a terrible idea.” pNut pleaded in a somewhat loud, but very boyish voice.
Nightmare raised an eyebrow, “Oh, really? You don’t think sharks like little snacks?”
They thought it over. For probably a bit too long before The Mart finally broke the silence. “We probably wouldn’t get that far anyways.”
Chapter 17
“Who’s that guy?” The Mart asks, wiping some Sharkphoon mist off of his glasses and pointing over to a quiet guy across the rink who was meticulously grooming a fine head of hair.
“That’s DaVinci.” Nightmare said.
“What’s he good at?”
“Everything. I think.”
“He could be useful.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah. I’m sick of people getting eaten by sharks.”
“That’s cool.”
Chapter 18
The Mart watched Nightmare scan the faces of the remaining wiffleballers. There weren’t many left, and he’d spent so much time eyeballing them, it was getting a bit creepy. When all of a sudden, Nightmare’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas. The Mart followed his gaze across the rink, and he began vigorously shaking his head. “Don’t do it.”
“What?!”
“It’s stupid… but I know you're going to do it anyways, so go ahead and write your little story.”
Nightmare jogged across the rink, slowing down a few feet from the wiffler, and he did a little bow-curtsy-kneel thing. The Mart, watching from a distance, shook his head and opened another beer, “What a moron.”
Nightmare stood up, cleared his throat, and proclaimed, “Wiffle Jesus, sir. I believe it is up to you to walk on water and find us rescue. Sir. Your honor. Amen.”
Wiffle Jesus looked around. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Nightmare bowed again. “It’s up to you.”
“Is this for one of your articles?” Wiffle Jesus asked.
“Yes sire, it is.”
Wiffle Jesus sighed. Loudly. “Fine. For I so love the league that I will walk on water and all those who would follow me shall be saved.” He looked down at Nightmare, who was genuflecting now. His eyes were wide, he nodded like a madman.
Wiffle Jesus walked to the wall with Nightmare right on his heels. “You sure about this?”
“Oh yes, for sure.”
And Wiffle Jesus stepped out onto the water. Literally onto the water. He couldn’t believe it. Neither could anyone else (except Nightmare). He took a step. And another. He was doing it. He was walking on water.
But then he got a little cocky. And started moonwalking on water. It was pretty cool looking. Obviously. But walking backwards, he didn’t see a big ass shark swim up behind him and chomp him in two.
“Dammit,” Nightmare said, “I thought that would work.”
Chapter 19
“You know what I totally forgot?” The Mart asked, opening what was probably his eighth beer of the morning.
“No. What?” Nightmare asked, opening another beer of his own.
“Dr. K is a doctor of marine biology.”
“Are you sure? I think I’ve talked about this like a hundred times in the rankings.”
“No, I’m pretty sure he’s a marine biologist.”
“I can almost guarantee he’s not a marine biologist.”
“Dr. K! You’re a marine biologist, right?!” The Mart yells to him across the rink.
“Oh yeah!” Dr. K replies, walking over to the wall. “This is a whale shark. Not carnivorous. Totally harmless!” He reaches over and pets the shark on the head.
Nightmare looks to The Mart with raised eyebrows. “Well, what do you know?” He’s just about to extend an apology to The Mart when the whale shark does a huge belly flop-like move, peaking at about 20 feet in the air, and comes down (hard) landing right on Dr. K. Squishing him flatter than a pancake before flopping back over the wall into the water.
Nightmare is shocked, but quickly realizes The Mart was finally wrong about something, but before he could throw it back in his face, The Mart states confidently, “He wasn’t totally wrong. It didn’t EAT him.”
Chapter 20
Nightmare sat down on a cooler, opened another beer, and stared off into the distance. Obviously confused, he starts counting on his fingers. The Mart cleared his throat to get Nightmare’s attention. When he looks up, The Mart says, “We’re on number 20, the Blue Sox, and I’ll bet you your last beer you’re going find a way to mention Eddie Bauer and re-use the ‘use the little guy as bait’ joke you that you just used for pNut. Because you’re unoriginal, unclever, and not too smart.”
Nightmare started to say something, but stopped. He started a second time, but stopped again. He opened his mouth to speak one more time, but stopped and looked down at the beer, and then at The Mart. And then at the beer. And then again at The Mart. He held the beer out to The Mart who triumphantly took it and walked away.
Chapter 21
“Hey! Wake up!” Nightmare shouts at a sound asleep Shipwreck, who slowly yawns, stretches, and opens his eyes.”
“What’s up?”
“You were in the navy. What do we do?”
Shipwreck shrugs. “I was in the navy. Not shark school.”
“You don’t get trained? For like boat wrecks?”
“Meh.”
“You don’t seem particularly worried right now. We’re surrounded by hundreds of man eating (and crushing) sharks.
“I got 9 kids at home. This is nothing.” Nightmare stares blankly, slowly trying to remember how many kids Shippy actually had. Nine sounded right. Shipwreck continued, “Yeah… ten kids… a hundred sharks… same thing basically.”
“Well, you want to get out of here and see them again, right?!” Nightmare asked, almost screaming now.
“Nah.”
“Why not?”
“This is way more peaceful than being at home. Eleven kids are no joke.”
Chapter 22
Nearly defeated, Nightmare was staring out at the shark filled waters when he heard a beep behind him. He turned to see Truck, the Godfather, behind him with a camera. “I’ve been filming this whole thing.” He said. “I figure that way they’ll know what happened to us.”
“That’s a pretty good idea.” Nightmare said. “Preserve our memory. For history.”
“You think a shark is going to jump over that wall and eat me now?” Truck asked, accepting his fate.
“No way. You can’t feed the Godfather to sharks.”
“Thanks man.”
“No Trucker, thank you. For everything.”
Chapter 23
The water was nearing the top of the boards. Nearly everyone had given up hope at this point and it seemed the only goal they had now was not escape, but to finish every last beer in every last cooler before being eaten alive by sharks. And they were doing a pretty darn good job too.
The Mart had made a decision to say goodbye to all those who are left. Sharing a few words and a hug with each remaining wiffler. Until he got to Nelson.
“Umm, Nelson. We’re surrounded by shark infested waters and you’re literally splashing around in the water with your hands. You think that’s a good idea?”
Nelson shrugged.
“The sharks have sharp teeth. And they like to bite.”
Nelson shrugged again.
“Okay. You do you.”
Chapter Last
“There’s only one way to end this nightmare.” Nightmare said, nervously laughing at the self-referencing joke he’d just made. “Franklin! We need you to raise your kite, so it’s struck by lightning. Then you gotta jump in the water so that the lightning electrocutes all the sharks surrounding the rink. Then, the rest of us will swim to Willie’s boat!”
All eyes were on Franklin, just as he likes it. You could almost hear the wheels turning. After a moment he responded nervously. “That makes sense, Nightmare. It really does. And I liked the self-referencing joke. I really did. But I have a question.” Nightmare nodded impatiently, encouraging him to get on with the question. He asked, “In order for the lightning to hit that kite, travel along that wire, and electrocute all those sharks… wouldn’t Sweet Feet have to jump in the water with all those sharks, very likely sacrificing himself?”
“Of course, Franklin.” Nightmare said, the answer being obvious to all. “And we are all okay making that difficult sacrifice.”
“Sweet Feet Franklin can’t help but notice that last part sounded a little sarcastic.” Getting no response, Franklin looked to the group for any potential lifeline. One by one, and then as a group, they all nodded in agreement. They were in fact, willing to sacrifice Franklin.
To his credit, Franklin accepted his fate quickly, rationalizing it by convincing himself electrocution was probably a better way to go than being eaten alive by sharks. Slowly, he climbed over the wall and into the water. As sharks closed in from every direction, his kite was struck by lightning. And just like that, as all the great whites, tiger sharks, hammerhead sharks, and all other kinds of very real sharks I can’t think of, close in for an easy meal, but instead are greeted with a blast of 1.21 gigawatts. Courtesy of Sweet Feet Franklin.
Everyone cheered. Sweet Feet had done it again. Hundred of stupid little sharks floated to the top of the water. It smelled like a Red Lobster. Everyone turned to look at Groundskeeper Willie.
Willie said, “Hey, let’s get to the boat!”
“We don’t need your boat.” Nightmare replied. “All the sharks are dead. And I think it just stopped raining.”
And with its last dying breath, that big fat whale shark that crushed Dr. K breeches the water, does a final glorious backflip and lands right on top of Groundskeeper Willie. Splat!
“That was unnecessary.” The Mart said.
“Funny though?” Nightmare asked.
The Mart shrugged, “Not really.”
“Then my work here is done.”
Epilogue
After a long day of dealing with sharks (and a typhoon), Nightmare made it nearly home before deciding to make one final stop.
He came in through the back door of his favorite local bar. His clothes were still soaked as he sat down at the bar. Before he could say anything, the bartender handed him a beer. Nightmare looked up, confused. The bartender understood his question before he even asked it. As he moved on to the next customer, he looked to the corner of the bar and nodded, indicating Nightmare should look in that direction. He did. And there in the corner sat Old Yeller. He raised his own glass, and the bar went quiet.
“Well done.” Yeller proclaimed.
Nightmare wiped a single tear from his eye and got up to go sit down with the silver fox.