Who Am I? Rest Easy Ted Williams.

So, recently we were getting new shirts for the office softball team, and I was faced with a conundrum: what number to pick. When I played football -- a very short stint qbing possibly the worst Pop Warner in the history of humankind -- I was number 15. It was the perfect number for a quaterback who probably threw 4 times as many interceptions as touchdowns. Quick, name one NFL quaterback who wore #15. I thought so. The best I've been able to come up with over the years is Vince Ferragamo or Neil Lomax. Yuck. Oh, and Jeff Hostetler. Double yuck.

The only sport I was decent at was soccer. There, I was #6. Not sure how that happened, it just did and stuck. Another kind of obscure number. There are some soccer greats who wear #6. Like Roberto Carlos. I was no Roberto Carlos. I was more Nick Van Sicklen.

Neither worked for me for the softball jersey. So, I thought hard and picked the number that drew me in. Number 9. Any half-hearted baseball fan knows that the greatest #9 to play the game was the disembodied head sitting in an Arizona cryogenics facility: Ted Williams. Well, #9 debuted for our softball team yesterday. Let me say this: he was more Vinny Castilla or Geronimo Gil than Ted Williams. 1 for 4 with 1 run scored. The #9 I observed was punchless and inept. Oh yeah, he was me.