Our season ended last night. At last. It was the first night of the tournament, during which teams play in best-of-five matches to determine who moves on. We played four games in our first match, winning the second one, but we just weren’t strong enough to finish off the other (again, all-male) team.
I decided a couple minutes into the first game that I was just going to throw until I couldn’t throw anymore. And that’s what I did. Near the middle of the fourth game I heard a “pop!” from somewhere in my left shoulder as I threw a ball, and I realized my time on the floor was drawing to a close. On the drive home my left arm just sat in my lap like a piece of meat someone had attached to my torso with a couple strips of sweaty fabric. As usual, I grabbed the icepak and a Wal-profen as soon as I walked through the door.
The team that beat us was one of the nicer teams in the league, so it wasn’t so bad losing to them. I doubt they’ll go all the way, but they have a better chance than we ever did.