OPArsenal
TNPer
I don't know if this one was imported from the s2, but it's one of my favorite stories ever, and it's always worth a re-read if you've read it. If you haven't, you need to.
Bit of info: This story was originally posted on the forums at BigSoccer.com by a fella named Nutmeg. It was in response to a younger fella, MattieG, asking for some general advice on women and dating. Read on.
The Saga of SoccerBabe by Nutmeg
Here's my story, all true. When I was 14, I met the coolest girl I had ever met in a co-ed soccer game in a Washington-Oregon border war game between club all-stars. Up to that point, I had pretty much hated girls and their nonsense - I wanted nothing to do with them. Then, as a ball was played to me with my back to the goal, my feet were taken out from behind my by a vicious studs-up, two footed tackle. I turned around, ready to deck the punk, when I saw the perp laughing aloud at how easy I fell down. She was stunning - an older woman (15 years old) - and the rest of the game I couldn't concentrate as I was beside myself in puppy love.
After the game, I mustered all the testosterone a 14 year-old who had hardly spoken two words to a girl his entire life could and walked over to introduce myself. Alas, it was for not. As I approached, this thug - the Washington State 190lb wrestling Champion - had his arms wrapped around her and had his territory clearly marked. I knew the guy, hated the guy, but at a scrawny 145lbs, there wasn't much I could do about it.
I never saw the girl again. I knew nothing about her, least of all her name, but her image never left me. Every girl I ever met was measured against Soccer-Babe, and none rated. High School passed, college came around, I took jobs in Spain, then later Mexico. While working in Mexico, I met a doll who finally measured up to this anonymous Soccer Babe (this is 10 years later, and yes, I was still stuck on this girl even though I'd dated many others). We dated for over a year, and then got engaged. I thought I was hopelessly in love.
A year into my last job in Mexico, and three months before the big wedding day, I was asked to change responsibilities, and was sent to Cincinnati for a week's worth of training. It was the longest my fiance and I had ever spent apart, so as ridiculous as it now seems, we were saddened by the extended separation. While in Cincinnati, on the third day of training, the morning instructor got sick. A backup trainer was called in for the afternoon and the rest of the week. After lunch, I walked in and couldn't believe my eyes. It was Soccer Babe, more beautiful than ever. "Of all the places," I thought to myself. The puppy dog feelings immediately came back, and when she saw me, there was an immediate look of recognition on her face, too. Sadly, I noticed a huge rock on her finger, and at the same time, I was torn between my feelings of guilt and betrayal to my fiance and the overwhelming crush I had on Soccer Babe.
That afternoon was one of the best in my life, and at the same time, one of the most guilt stricken, too. I was getting married in three months, but was head over heels for this gorgeous apparition. During our break, I finally got to introduce myself to Soccer Babe, and was surprised when she immediately responded, "Of course I know who you are! You're the weakling I took down way back when in the soccer game." We spent 15 minutes introducing ourselves, and I was lost on her smile and laugh. This was serious, and yet it was ridiculous.
At the end of the afternoon session, I got the worst page of my life. A site was down in Mexico, and I'd be leaving on the next flight out of Cincinnati to help get it back up. There was no time for goodbyes, I was out the door, packed, and on the plane within the hour. The flight down I thought about my fiance. I thought I loved her, but do you really love someone when all you can think about is someone else? I decided I needed to tell my fiance about everything to get her take, and to let her know what I was going through. I was getting physically sick to my stomach dreading the conversation.
The next day, after the site was back up, I returned home to my fiance. Over dinner, I laid it all out for her. To my surprise, she wasn't upset at all. To my further surprise, she confessed she'd been having the same feelings for my best friend, who she had just met a couple weeks earlier, and who was himself engaged to a different girl, but was not happy with the way things were going. Knowing that my buddy highly approved of my fiance, I called him immediately after dinner.
(Fake Names)
"Oscar, what do you think of Jen (my fiance)?" I asked.
"Dude, you are one lucky guy. She is an amazing girl, I have no idea what she sees in you," he responded.
"So if she were single, you'd be interested in her?" I asked.
"Oh yeah, in a heartbeat."
"Well, she's single, and she'd be more than interested in going out with you, too."
The next week, Oscar and Jen were off on vacation together. A month later, they were engaged.
6 months later, Oscar and Jen are engaged, and Oscar is living in Southern California. Jen finished up her work in Texas, and she asked me to help her move out to Cali with Oscar. At this point, we were past the post-breakup feelings you inevitably go through, so I figured it would be a fun vacation with my two best friends. On the way over, the conversation quickly turned back to "what might have been." As I said earlier, every girl I had ever dated had been unknowingly measured against Soccer Babe, and Jen had rated very favorably. She finally got the nerve to ask what I saw in Soccer Babe that I didn't see in her.
My response even surprised myself. Nothing. Jen was everything that I wanted in a girl - drop dead gorgeous, athletic, hilarious, great self-esteem, fun to be around, could seem to effortlessly accomplish anything she set out to do. I mean, if I had to create a checklist of the type of girl I wanted to marry, she would have exceeded every expectation I could hope for. For some reason, though, there was that intangible "something" that was missing between us. Some people call it chemistry, but even that doesn't fit just right, because two people couldn't have gotten along better than Jen and I. I returned the question to her court, and she felt the same way. There was no logical reason why we shouldn't have been together.
Sometimes I still marvel that we threw our relationship away on a whim. Even at that point, Jen hadn't spent a lot of time with Oscar, and didn't know him all that well. Since my encounter with Soccer Babe in Cincinnati, I had never seen or heard from her again. During the drive over to California, I came to the conclusion that for me, at least, there is one person you are just meant to be with, and anything else is selling yourself short.
Once we got to California and met up with Oscar, I went into a funk. Seeing those two as happy as they were brought mixed emotions. I was sincerely happy for the both of them, and I was grateful that I could play a part in hooking the two up. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little bitter. Things worked out well for them, and I was back to square one. Both Oscar and Jen caught on to what I was going through, and they quickly surmised the fix to the situation was to hook me up with a California hottie.
I wasn't interested. Oscar would introduce me to what he thought would be the perfect match, I'd say hello and quickly dismiss myself from the situation. This happened a few times the first couple of days, and then both Oscar and Jen backed off. Towards the end of the week, Oscar invited me to play in his company softball game. I let him know that for the good of the team, he might want to reconsider, but he persuaded me to give it a shot. During warmups, as Oscar wiped the tears away from his eyes from laughing so hard at seeing me try to field grounders, he pulled me aside.
"Dude, I know you're not interested in getting set up with anyone, but you need to check this girl out," he said.
I turned around, and there she was. Soccer Babe. She was playing catch with some of her teammates, and I just stood there with my jaw wide open. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
"You OK, man?" asked Oscar.
"That's her. That's Soccer Babe."
"Oh." Having known Oscar most of my life, I knew that "Oh" nonverbally meant, "Holy Crap! I can see why you've been stuck on this girl from day one. What a babe."
At first, I was dumbfounded, then extremely happy, then dumbfounded, then amazed that somehow I had run into Soccer Babe yet again in a totally off-the-wall location. Then, reality sunk in. My dream girl, in 10 minutes, was going to witness my complete humiliation on the softball field.
"Oscar," I begged, "Please, for the sake of my self-esteem, do not play me in this game."
"Normally, Nutmeg, I would," he replied. "I hate to see a guy embarass himself so badly, but we only have 5 guys today, and we need you on the field."
"Then put another girl out there," I said in a panic. "Trust me, she couldn't do any worse."
"Sorry man, you're in."
Immediately, thoughts came flashing to my mind on how I could get out of this. Mysterious injury, a quick and sudden deadly illness ? I even thought about using my cell phone to call my pager and force me to return home right away. No way did I want to Soccer Babe see me swing a softball bat.
"And don't try any of your usual crap to get out of it," said Oscar. "I've seen you pull some pretty shady moves to get out of stuff like this before." I was locked in, and I could feel the walls around me moving in. I got that sick feeling you get right before you take a final you know you're going to fail and knew I was screwed. Even worse, Oscar walked right over to Soccer Babe and started talking with her. I stood there petrified of what my now-former best friend was telling her. It got worse when she looked over at me with a face of recognition, started laughing, and gave me her beautiful smile and a wave. Oscar walked back towards me and before I could open my mouth or clench my fist to deck him said, "Don't worry man, I've taken care of things for you."
"What the hell did you say to her?"
"Basically, I told her that you were here, that you have had a crush on her for over 10 years, and that she should sit back and enjoy the show."
I was so mortified I couldn't respond verbally or physically. I just stood at the shortstop position wondering how hard it would be to dig a 6 foot hole right there and burry myself in it.
A few minutes later, the ump called game on. Oscar walked out and told me that as long as I was out there, I might as well lead off. Besides, he counseled, it'll be better to get the pain over with quickly. I put on the helmet, grabbed a bat, and walked to the batters box like a captive going off the plank at swordpoint.
So, I step into the batter's box like a man sitting on the electric chair. As I take a few warmup swings the catcher, a 250 lb he-woman, starts yapping. "So, you're hot on Soccer Babe, huh? It would probably suck if you embarassed yourself here, then, wouldn't it." I looked back at her, simultaneously wondering how this gorilla got the voice of Barry White and which zit she was talking out of. I decided I had better keep my mouth shut and focus on the incoming pitch. Although I had increased my youthly 145 lb frame, this girl scared me more than Soccer Babe's wrestling stud ever had.
I decided that if I was going to embarass myself, I would literally go down swinging. First pitch came in, and was lobbed about 3 feet over me head. I swung anyway, doing my best Paul Bunyon over-the-head wood-chopping imitation with the Easton Softball Bat. Somehow, I made contact. The ball was spiked into the ground about 2 feet in front of home plate, then took a 10 foot bounce off the baked California dirt over the pitchers head. I sprinted down to 1st Base as the 2nd baseman fumbled the ball on the pickup. 1 for 1 - it wasn't pretty, but it worked. As I made the turn and walked back to 1st base, I realized that Soccer Babe was waiting for me on the bag. Turns out she was the 1st Base Woman. "How's it going?" She smiled, trying to cover her laughter. I couldn't figure out if she was laughing at my pathetic attempt at hitting or at her earlier conversation with Oscar.
"Not too bad," I replied. I stood on the base wondering how to strike up a conversation, then noticed Oscar and Jen giving me these indiscrete winks and thumbs-up signs from the dugout. I flipped them the bird. "God," I thought to myself, "I might as well be 14 again."
Soccer Babe and I did a very quick catch-up session, in the which I learned she was once again single, too. My heart almost jumped out of my throat. The second hitter hit a line drive to the outfield, and I was off around the bases. I've never run from 1st to home that fast in my life. The game went on, and believe it or not, I went 3 for 4 without ever hitting a ball out of the infield. Every time I stopped at 1st base, Soccer Babe and I had a chance to do quick getting to know you session. She was as cool as I'd always imagined. After the game, she came over and let me know that her team was going out for drinks and we were welcome to come along.
Oscar, Jen, and I went to Oscar's place, I took the quickest shower I'd ever taken, and we were off to Old Town San Diego. What a cool place, BTW. Soccer Babe and I hit it off right from the start. I really thought I had finally found my match. Soccer Babe was a little nervous and shy around Oscar and Jen, as was to be expected when you know everyone around you is sizing you up. Knowing Jen as well as I did, I could tell she especially wanted to see for herself what this girl who had supplanted her was all about. When we got a spare second alone, I asked Jen what she thought. "Well, she's definitely a babe, but doesn't she seem a little phony?" I had always valued Jen's ability to assess people and their character, but on Soccer Babe, I thought Jen was being more than a little petty. I chalked it up to female competitiveness and thought little more of it.
The rest of the week Soccer Babe and I were inseperable. I didn't see Oscar and Jen again until it was time to head back home and back to work. Soccer Babe and I met Oscar and Jen at the airport and said goodbye. One thing troubled me as I walked down the corridor into the plane. Soccer Babe had been totally open and fun-loving the past couple of days, but as soon as we got back around my friends, she clammed up like she had the first night and hardly interacted at all, despite my friends' attempts at becoming friends. That was a huge red flag to me, so I decided I'd try to figure things out when I got back home.
When I got home to Mexico, I quickly learned that I was swamped at work. Soccer Babe and I emailed every day and called each other more often than that, but every time I brought up her standoffishness towards Oscar and Jen, she quickly deflected the questions. It was frustrating, but everything else was going so well, I decided not to dwell on it.
A few days after returning home, I got a call from Oscar. "So, bud, how's it going with Soccer Babe?"
"Well, no thanks to you, but I can't even believe how cool things are right now."
"That's cool man," Oscar replied. There was a moment of silence, and I could tell by the tone of my friend's voice that there was something bothering him he wanted to get off his shoulders.
"OK, chump," I said, "what's on your mind."
"Does Soccer Babe have a problem with Jen?"
"You know, I've been wondering the same thing. I don't know if it's a problem with the whole ex-girlfriend thing, if she's just intimidated by you guys, or if she's just shy around people she doesn't know too well. I've been trying to pry it out of her, but it's not something she wants to talk about."
"Well, you know the rules. No dating girls we can't get along with." Oscar was referring to a pact we'd made way back in high school that we had both religiously followed throughout our dating experiences. On more than one occasion, I had parted ways with girls who had problems with Oscar, and vice versa. Next to family, Oscar had always been my closest confidant, and it was important to both of us that things stayed that way. Psycho girlfriends were not allowed.
"Yeah, I know the deal. I'll try and work this out."
The conversation turned to its usual focus points - were the Yankees better than the Mariners, was Deportivo going to beat Real Madrid, who shot the best golf score, etc. We chatted for about 20 minutes and told each other to take care.
Sometimes life throws you a curveball you're just not ready for. Two days later, on his commute to work, Oscar was killed in a car accident. I'm not going to spend a lot of time on this, but let me say that I still don't think I've recovered from it. Probably never will.
I was on the first plane I could coordinate back to California, and Soccer Babe met me at the airport. We didn't know each other well enough to know how to handle what I was going through. I didn't even know how to handle it myself. She probably expected a best friend in deep morning, and what she got was somebody still in complete shock. I wasn't sad, I wasn't depressed - I just felt lost and wanted to be left alone. She was trying to be understanding, but I could tell she was offended by my dispassionate greeting. It didn't get better from there. When we went to meet Jen, I completely forgot about Soccer Babe and focused my attention to my other best friend. Jen and I spent a few hours together, not saying a lot, but just being there for each other. Soccer Babe probably felt like a broken 3rd wheel, but I wasn't in the mood to care about what Soccer Babe was going through.
Once again, Soccer Babe was short with Jen when we said goodbye, but instead of the ambivalent feelings I'd had before, this time it really pissed me off. I wanted to be mad at somebody, and with the way Soccer Babe was reacting to the situation, she was stepping up to the role. We didn't say much on the car ride back to her place, but I could tell she was confused and upset at the same time. She didn't like the attention she wasn't getting, and she disliked even more that the attention she felt should have been hers was instead going to my ex. Like I said earlier, I couldn't have possibly cared less. This wasn't about Soccer Babe, and I sure as hell wasn't going to make it about her. Besides, if there is one thing that had always bugged me about girls, it was their insecurity in this type of situation. To me, that was yet another big red flag.
The next couple days was about preparation, and more often than not, I was with Jen, not Soccer Babe. More and more, that grated on her, and more and more, her frustration only served to piss me off. By the third day, I decided to stop staying with her and got a hotel room. I gave her some weak excuse and focused on more important things. We talked quite a bit after that, but I didn't see her until the day of the funeral. It pissed her off that the majority of my time was spent with Jen, and when we arrived at the church, she didn't say a word to Jen at all. I think it was right then that I knew that Soccer Babe might make some guy very happy in life, but that guy was not going to be me. Rather than make a scene, I instead took a seat with Jen and Oscar's family - my second family - and left Soccer Babe to fend for herself.
It was a long, taxing day, and I had gradually shifted from the shock I had initially felt into a deeper grief than I had ever felt before. After all the services were complete, Soccer Babe and I got into my rental car and headed home towards her place. I knew already that was going to be the last time we ever talked to each other, but I was struggling with how to let her know. She decided she would take the leap.
"So, how have you and Jen been dealing?" she asked. It was a loaded question, the way she asked it was obviously meant as some sort of sick insinuation that Jen and I were taking this opportunity to hook up. My blood boiled, and it took everything I had not to verbally rip her a new hole.
"What do you really want to know, Soccer Babe?"
"Well, it just seems like you both might be a little too consoling these past couple of days."
That was it. I pulled to the shoulder of the freeway and told her to get out of the car right there. She was shocked, but just pissed off enough to actually do it. The look on her face was daring me to actually leave her on a freeway in Southern California. "No problem," I thought, as I put the car into drive and sped away. I have never heard from Soccer Babe again. I even managed to smile as I popped Limp Bizkit into the CD Player and selected Nookie as my anthem for the day. I remember wondering if I could somehow get a hold of Fred Durst and ask him if the band needed a very enthusiastic backup vocalist.
Jen and I said goodbye at the airport the next day, and we rarely communicated over the next year. When we did, all we could talk about was Oscar, and the conversations were too emotional to make them a regular event. I wanted to be there for Jen, but even the thought that people might interpret that as me making a move on my best friend's fiance was too much for me.
A little over a year later, I got a call from Jen letting me know she'd be visiting me in my new home near Portland, OR. To make a long story short, it was all downhill from there. Two years after our dearest friend was killed, Jen and I were married. Oscar's father stood in as my best man.
Sometimes you look back at life and wonder why things had to play out the way they did. I have always been grateful that I had the chance to "Dance" with Soccer Babe. I imagine that if I never had, there would have always been that "what if" in the back of my mind had I married Jen or anybody else. There is not even a shade of "what if" now. I still believe that there is only one right person for me in this world, but I know now that there also has to be a right time, too. The "something" that Jen and I didn't have before was in full force the second time around, and I can honestly say that when it comes to the person I married, I am the luckiest man alive. In many ways, I have my best friend in the world to thank for that.
My advice to you MattieG, is to live life and let come what may. If you see your dream girl on the commuter or anywhere else, go for it. Until then, roll the dice any chance you get. Thanks for reading along everyone. This has been the first time I've ever shared this in writing, and hopefully you've enjoyed hearing about it the first time as much as I've loved reliving it the second.
Bit of info: This story was originally posted on the forums at BigSoccer.com by a fella named Nutmeg. It was in response to a younger fella, MattieG, asking for some general advice on women and dating. Read on.
The Saga of SoccerBabe by Nutmeg
Here's my story, all true. When I was 14, I met the coolest girl I had ever met in a co-ed soccer game in a Washington-Oregon border war game between club all-stars. Up to that point, I had pretty much hated girls and their nonsense - I wanted nothing to do with them. Then, as a ball was played to me with my back to the goal, my feet were taken out from behind my by a vicious studs-up, two footed tackle. I turned around, ready to deck the punk, when I saw the perp laughing aloud at how easy I fell down. She was stunning - an older woman (15 years old) - and the rest of the game I couldn't concentrate as I was beside myself in puppy love.
After the game, I mustered all the testosterone a 14 year-old who had hardly spoken two words to a girl his entire life could and walked over to introduce myself. Alas, it was for not. As I approached, this thug - the Washington State 190lb wrestling Champion - had his arms wrapped around her and had his territory clearly marked. I knew the guy, hated the guy, but at a scrawny 145lbs, there wasn't much I could do about it.
I never saw the girl again. I knew nothing about her, least of all her name, but her image never left me. Every girl I ever met was measured against Soccer-Babe, and none rated. High School passed, college came around, I took jobs in Spain, then later Mexico. While working in Mexico, I met a doll who finally measured up to this anonymous Soccer Babe (this is 10 years later, and yes, I was still stuck on this girl even though I'd dated many others). We dated for over a year, and then got engaged. I thought I was hopelessly in love.
A year into my last job in Mexico, and three months before the big wedding day, I was asked to change responsibilities, and was sent to Cincinnati for a week's worth of training. It was the longest my fiance and I had ever spent apart, so as ridiculous as it now seems, we were saddened by the extended separation. While in Cincinnati, on the third day of training, the morning instructor got sick. A backup trainer was called in for the afternoon and the rest of the week. After lunch, I walked in and couldn't believe my eyes. It was Soccer Babe, more beautiful than ever. "Of all the places," I thought to myself. The puppy dog feelings immediately came back, and when she saw me, there was an immediate look of recognition on her face, too. Sadly, I noticed a huge rock on her finger, and at the same time, I was torn between my feelings of guilt and betrayal to my fiance and the overwhelming crush I had on Soccer Babe.
That afternoon was one of the best in my life, and at the same time, one of the most guilt stricken, too. I was getting married in three months, but was head over heels for this gorgeous apparition. During our break, I finally got to introduce myself to Soccer Babe, and was surprised when she immediately responded, "Of course I know who you are! You're the weakling I took down way back when in the soccer game." We spent 15 minutes introducing ourselves, and I was lost on her smile and laugh. This was serious, and yet it was ridiculous.
At the end of the afternoon session, I got the worst page of my life. A site was down in Mexico, and I'd be leaving on the next flight out of Cincinnati to help get it back up. There was no time for goodbyes, I was out the door, packed, and on the plane within the hour. The flight down I thought about my fiance. I thought I loved her, but do you really love someone when all you can think about is someone else? I decided I needed to tell my fiance about everything to get her take, and to let her know what I was going through. I was getting physically sick to my stomach dreading the conversation.
The next day, after the site was back up, I returned home to my fiance. Over dinner, I laid it all out for her. To my surprise, she wasn't upset at all. To my further surprise, she confessed she'd been having the same feelings for my best friend, who she had just met a couple weeks earlier, and who was himself engaged to a different girl, but was not happy with the way things were going. Knowing that my buddy highly approved of my fiance, I called him immediately after dinner.
(Fake Names)
"Oscar, what do you think of Jen (my fiance)?" I asked.
"Dude, you are one lucky guy. She is an amazing girl, I have no idea what she sees in you," he responded.
"So if she were single, you'd be interested in her?" I asked.
"Oh yeah, in a heartbeat."
"Well, she's single, and she'd be more than interested in going out with you, too."
The next week, Oscar and Jen were off on vacation together. A month later, they were engaged.
6 months later, Oscar and Jen are engaged, and Oscar is living in Southern California. Jen finished up her work in Texas, and she asked me to help her move out to Cali with Oscar. At this point, we were past the post-breakup feelings you inevitably go through, so I figured it would be a fun vacation with my two best friends. On the way over, the conversation quickly turned back to "what might have been." As I said earlier, every girl I had ever dated had been unknowingly measured against Soccer Babe, and Jen had rated very favorably. She finally got the nerve to ask what I saw in Soccer Babe that I didn't see in her.
My response even surprised myself. Nothing. Jen was everything that I wanted in a girl - drop dead gorgeous, athletic, hilarious, great self-esteem, fun to be around, could seem to effortlessly accomplish anything she set out to do. I mean, if I had to create a checklist of the type of girl I wanted to marry, she would have exceeded every expectation I could hope for. For some reason, though, there was that intangible "something" that was missing between us. Some people call it chemistry, but even that doesn't fit just right, because two people couldn't have gotten along better than Jen and I. I returned the question to her court, and she felt the same way. There was no logical reason why we shouldn't have been together.
Sometimes I still marvel that we threw our relationship away on a whim. Even at that point, Jen hadn't spent a lot of time with Oscar, and didn't know him all that well. Since my encounter with Soccer Babe in Cincinnati, I had never seen or heard from her again. During the drive over to California, I came to the conclusion that for me, at least, there is one person you are just meant to be with, and anything else is selling yourself short.
Once we got to California and met up with Oscar, I went into a funk. Seeing those two as happy as they were brought mixed emotions. I was sincerely happy for the both of them, and I was grateful that I could play a part in hooking the two up. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little bitter. Things worked out well for them, and I was back to square one. Both Oscar and Jen caught on to what I was going through, and they quickly surmised the fix to the situation was to hook me up with a California hottie.
I wasn't interested. Oscar would introduce me to what he thought would be the perfect match, I'd say hello and quickly dismiss myself from the situation. This happened a few times the first couple of days, and then both Oscar and Jen backed off. Towards the end of the week, Oscar invited me to play in his company softball game. I let him know that for the good of the team, he might want to reconsider, but he persuaded me to give it a shot. During warmups, as Oscar wiped the tears away from his eyes from laughing so hard at seeing me try to field grounders, he pulled me aside.
"Dude, I know you're not interested in getting set up with anyone, but you need to check this girl out," he said.
I turned around, and there she was. Soccer Babe. She was playing catch with some of her teammates, and I just stood there with my jaw wide open. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
"You OK, man?" asked Oscar.
"That's her. That's Soccer Babe."
"Oh." Having known Oscar most of my life, I knew that "Oh" nonverbally meant, "Holy Crap! I can see why you've been stuck on this girl from day one. What a babe."
At first, I was dumbfounded, then extremely happy, then dumbfounded, then amazed that somehow I had run into Soccer Babe yet again in a totally off-the-wall location. Then, reality sunk in. My dream girl, in 10 minutes, was going to witness my complete humiliation on the softball field.
"Oscar," I begged, "Please, for the sake of my self-esteem, do not play me in this game."
"Normally, Nutmeg, I would," he replied. "I hate to see a guy embarass himself so badly, but we only have 5 guys today, and we need you on the field."
"Then put another girl out there," I said in a panic. "Trust me, she couldn't do any worse."
"Sorry man, you're in."
Immediately, thoughts came flashing to my mind on how I could get out of this. Mysterious injury, a quick and sudden deadly illness ? I even thought about using my cell phone to call my pager and force me to return home right away. No way did I want to Soccer Babe see me swing a softball bat.
"And don't try any of your usual crap to get out of it," said Oscar. "I've seen you pull some pretty shady moves to get out of stuff like this before." I was locked in, and I could feel the walls around me moving in. I got that sick feeling you get right before you take a final you know you're going to fail and knew I was screwed. Even worse, Oscar walked right over to Soccer Babe and started talking with her. I stood there petrified of what my now-former best friend was telling her. It got worse when she looked over at me with a face of recognition, started laughing, and gave me her beautiful smile and a wave. Oscar walked back towards me and before I could open my mouth or clench my fist to deck him said, "Don't worry man, I've taken care of things for you."
"What the hell did you say to her?"
"Basically, I told her that you were here, that you have had a crush on her for over 10 years, and that she should sit back and enjoy the show."
I was so mortified I couldn't respond verbally or physically. I just stood at the shortstop position wondering how hard it would be to dig a 6 foot hole right there and burry myself in it.
A few minutes later, the ump called game on. Oscar walked out and told me that as long as I was out there, I might as well lead off. Besides, he counseled, it'll be better to get the pain over with quickly. I put on the helmet, grabbed a bat, and walked to the batters box like a captive going off the plank at swordpoint.
So, I step into the batter's box like a man sitting on the electric chair. As I take a few warmup swings the catcher, a 250 lb he-woman, starts yapping. "So, you're hot on Soccer Babe, huh? It would probably suck if you embarassed yourself here, then, wouldn't it." I looked back at her, simultaneously wondering how this gorilla got the voice of Barry White and which zit she was talking out of. I decided I had better keep my mouth shut and focus on the incoming pitch. Although I had increased my youthly 145 lb frame, this girl scared me more than Soccer Babe's wrestling stud ever had.
I decided that if I was going to embarass myself, I would literally go down swinging. First pitch came in, and was lobbed about 3 feet over me head. I swung anyway, doing my best Paul Bunyon over-the-head wood-chopping imitation with the Easton Softball Bat. Somehow, I made contact. The ball was spiked into the ground about 2 feet in front of home plate, then took a 10 foot bounce off the baked California dirt over the pitchers head. I sprinted down to 1st Base as the 2nd baseman fumbled the ball on the pickup. 1 for 1 - it wasn't pretty, but it worked. As I made the turn and walked back to 1st base, I realized that Soccer Babe was waiting for me on the bag. Turns out she was the 1st Base Woman. "How's it going?" She smiled, trying to cover her laughter. I couldn't figure out if she was laughing at my pathetic attempt at hitting or at her earlier conversation with Oscar.
"Not too bad," I replied. I stood on the base wondering how to strike up a conversation, then noticed Oscar and Jen giving me these indiscrete winks and thumbs-up signs from the dugout. I flipped them the bird. "God," I thought to myself, "I might as well be 14 again."
Soccer Babe and I did a very quick catch-up session, in the which I learned she was once again single, too. My heart almost jumped out of my throat. The second hitter hit a line drive to the outfield, and I was off around the bases. I've never run from 1st to home that fast in my life. The game went on, and believe it or not, I went 3 for 4 without ever hitting a ball out of the infield. Every time I stopped at 1st base, Soccer Babe and I had a chance to do quick getting to know you session. She was as cool as I'd always imagined. After the game, she came over and let me know that her team was going out for drinks and we were welcome to come along.
Oscar, Jen, and I went to Oscar's place, I took the quickest shower I'd ever taken, and we were off to Old Town San Diego. What a cool place, BTW. Soccer Babe and I hit it off right from the start. I really thought I had finally found my match. Soccer Babe was a little nervous and shy around Oscar and Jen, as was to be expected when you know everyone around you is sizing you up. Knowing Jen as well as I did, I could tell she especially wanted to see for herself what this girl who had supplanted her was all about. When we got a spare second alone, I asked Jen what she thought. "Well, she's definitely a babe, but doesn't she seem a little phony?" I had always valued Jen's ability to assess people and their character, but on Soccer Babe, I thought Jen was being more than a little petty. I chalked it up to female competitiveness and thought little more of it.
The rest of the week Soccer Babe and I were inseperable. I didn't see Oscar and Jen again until it was time to head back home and back to work. Soccer Babe and I met Oscar and Jen at the airport and said goodbye. One thing troubled me as I walked down the corridor into the plane. Soccer Babe had been totally open and fun-loving the past couple of days, but as soon as we got back around my friends, she clammed up like she had the first night and hardly interacted at all, despite my friends' attempts at becoming friends. That was a huge red flag to me, so I decided I'd try to figure things out when I got back home.
When I got home to Mexico, I quickly learned that I was swamped at work. Soccer Babe and I emailed every day and called each other more often than that, but every time I brought up her standoffishness towards Oscar and Jen, she quickly deflected the questions. It was frustrating, but everything else was going so well, I decided not to dwell on it.
A few days after returning home, I got a call from Oscar. "So, bud, how's it going with Soccer Babe?"
"Well, no thanks to you, but I can't even believe how cool things are right now."
"That's cool man," Oscar replied. There was a moment of silence, and I could tell by the tone of my friend's voice that there was something bothering him he wanted to get off his shoulders.
"OK, chump," I said, "what's on your mind."
"Does Soccer Babe have a problem with Jen?"
"You know, I've been wondering the same thing. I don't know if it's a problem with the whole ex-girlfriend thing, if she's just intimidated by you guys, or if she's just shy around people she doesn't know too well. I've been trying to pry it out of her, but it's not something she wants to talk about."
"Well, you know the rules. No dating girls we can't get along with." Oscar was referring to a pact we'd made way back in high school that we had both religiously followed throughout our dating experiences. On more than one occasion, I had parted ways with girls who had problems with Oscar, and vice versa. Next to family, Oscar had always been my closest confidant, and it was important to both of us that things stayed that way. Psycho girlfriends were not allowed.
"Yeah, I know the deal. I'll try and work this out."
The conversation turned to its usual focus points - were the Yankees better than the Mariners, was Deportivo going to beat Real Madrid, who shot the best golf score, etc. We chatted for about 20 minutes and told each other to take care.
Sometimes life throws you a curveball you're just not ready for. Two days later, on his commute to work, Oscar was killed in a car accident. I'm not going to spend a lot of time on this, but let me say that I still don't think I've recovered from it. Probably never will.
I was on the first plane I could coordinate back to California, and Soccer Babe met me at the airport. We didn't know each other well enough to know how to handle what I was going through. I didn't even know how to handle it myself. She probably expected a best friend in deep morning, and what she got was somebody still in complete shock. I wasn't sad, I wasn't depressed - I just felt lost and wanted to be left alone. She was trying to be understanding, but I could tell she was offended by my dispassionate greeting. It didn't get better from there. When we went to meet Jen, I completely forgot about Soccer Babe and focused my attention to my other best friend. Jen and I spent a few hours together, not saying a lot, but just being there for each other. Soccer Babe probably felt like a broken 3rd wheel, but I wasn't in the mood to care about what Soccer Babe was going through.
Once again, Soccer Babe was short with Jen when we said goodbye, but instead of the ambivalent feelings I'd had before, this time it really pissed me off. I wanted to be mad at somebody, and with the way Soccer Babe was reacting to the situation, she was stepping up to the role. We didn't say much on the car ride back to her place, but I could tell she was confused and upset at the same time. She didn't like the attention she wasn't getting, and she disliked even more that the attention she felt should have been hers was instead going to my ex. Like I said earlier, I couldn't have possibly cared less. This wasn't about Soccer Babe, and I sure as hell wasn't going to make it about her. Besides, if there is one thing that had always bugged me about girls, it was their insecurity in this type of situation. To me, that was yet another big red flag.
The next couple days was about preparation, and more often than not, I was with Jen, not Soccer Babe. More and more, that grated on her, and more and more, her frustration only served to piss me off. By the third day, I decided to stop staying with her and got a hotel room. I gave her some weak excuse and focused on more important things. We talked quite a bit after that, but I didn't see her until the day of the funeral. It pissed her off that the majority of my time was spent with Jen, and when we arrived at the church, she didn't say a word to Jen at all. I think it was right then that I knew that Soccer Babe might make some guy very happy in life, but that guy was not going to be me. Rather than make a scene, I instead took a seat with Jen and Oscar's family - my second family - and left Soccer Babe to fend for herself.
It was a long, taxing day, and I had gradually shifted from the shock I had initially felt into a deeper grief than I had ever felt before. After all the services were complete, Soccer Babe and I got into my rental car and headed home towards her place. I knew already that was going to be the last time we ever talked to each other, but I was struggling with how to let her know. She decided she would take the leap.
"So, how have you and Jen been dealing?" she asked. It was a loaded question, the way she asked it was obviously meant as some sort of sick insinuation that Jen and I were taking this opportunity to hook up. My blood boiled, and it took everything I had not to verbally rip her a new hole.
"What do you really want to know, Soccer Babe?"
"Well, it just seems like you both might be a little too consoling these past couple of days."
That was it. I pulled to the shoulder of the freeway and told her to get out of the car right there. She was shocked, but just pissed off enough to actually do it. The look on her face was daring me to actually leave her on a freeway in Southern California. "No problem," I thought, as I put the car into drive and sped away. I have never heard from Soccer Babe again. I even managed to smile as I popped Limp Bizkit into the CD Player and selected Nookie as my anthem for the day. I remember wondering if I could somehow get a hold of Fred Durst and ask him if the band needed a very enthusiastic backup vocalist.
Jen and I said goodbye at the airport the next day, and we rarely communicated over the next year. When we did, all we could talk about was Oscar, and the conversations were too emotional to make them a regular event. I wanted to be there for Jen, but even the thought that people might interpret that as me making a move on my best friend's fiance was too much for me.
A little over a year later, I got a call from Jen letting me know she'd be visiting me in my new home near Portland, OR. To make a long story short, it was all downhill from there. Two years after our dearest friend was killed, Jen and I were married. Oscar's father stood in as my best man.
Sometimes you look back at life and wonder why things had to play out the way they did. I have always been grateful that I had the chance to "Dance" with Soccer Babe. I imagine that if I never had, there would have always been that "what if" in the back of my mind had I married Jen or anybody else. There is not even a shade of "what if" now. I still believe that there is only one right person for me in this world, but I know now that there also has to be a right time, too. The "something" that Jen and I didn't have before was in full force the second time around, and I can honestly say that when it comes to the person I married, I am the luckiest man alive. In many ways, I have my best friend in the world to thank for that.
My advice to you MattieG, is to live life and let come what may. If you see your dream girl on the commuter or anywhere else, go for it. Until then, roll the dice any chance you get. Thanks for reading along everyone. This has been the first time I've ever shared this in writing, and hopefully you've enjoyed hearing about it the first time as much as I've loved reliving it the second.