By some accounts, winter started the moment the World Series ended. Maybe it started when we turned on the furnaces and put in the storm windows. You could say it started when it snowed on me in Minneapolis the other day. We had sleet and freezing rain in Boston this week, too. But no, you know winter will really be here when indoor softball leagues start.

Oh, wait, that happened last week, as well. Yes, my friends, the time has come to confess. I've joined a softball league. A once-a-week indoor softball league, that plays every Monday night at Strike One Fitness in Danvers, MA. That's the same all-clay infield where I got that unbelievable black eye getting hit with a baseball in tryouts this year (see the spring entries for more on that...).

Yes, I decided if I couldn't make it in baseball, I'd give softball a try. I bought a glove on half-price clearance and paid my dues and my team played its first game last week.

I missed that first game because I was in Minnesota on business. But I got to meet some of my teammates today, thanks to the wonders of email. They sent around everyone's addresses, of course, and I mailed the team saying "hey, I've never played softball before! can we get together and play catch or something?"

So today at 1pm six of us met at St. Peter's Field. Apparently it's not quite winter yet because the sun was out and it was about sixty degrees. Balmy enough that once we got warmed up, we were all in T-shirts.

Our team has no name yet--we're known only as "Team #16." When I arrived at the field, Tom, our team captain, and 'Dip (short for Pradeep) were playing catch. We shook hands and got into a triangle along the first base line. I caught the ball--okay, it didn't feel that different--and then I tried to throw it.

It felt like I was throwing a canteloupe. How do you get any grip on the thing? 'Dip seemed like he could get a lot of mustard on his throws but I couldn't really tell what he was doing other than just using a strong arm. I nominate him to play anywhere on the left side of the diamond. I'll stay on the right side where my little lobs of canteloupe might still have a chance of reaching the firstbaseman.

After about ten minutes the hugeness of the ball no longer seemed as weird, and we took infield practice with John and Rebecca, a couple who have played in these leagues before, as well. They had missed last Monday's game because their "frostbite league" (outdoor fall league) team had made it to the playoffs, which overlapped. And then the sixth, a man named Sandeep joined us. We each took batting practice.

Alright, this is underhand slow pitch. So every pitch is like an eephus or a 12-6 curve. That means you have to stand way up in the box and sometimes run forward a few steps (like Ichiro) to actually hit the ball. Or maybe it just means we need better pitchers. Anything that was actually near the strike zone I think i was able to hit. It's hard to tell.

What is easy to tell, though, about this group, is that they like to have fun. We're not all prodigies athletically (okay, "Dip maybe) and we're going to make mistakes, and that's okay. Hm. I could get used to this, I think. If only I can get used to have goddamn huge the ball is.