Shortly after my 29 year old, but looked 25 at the time current wife and I married one evening she and her 26 year old best girlfriend burst thru the door with their arms fully of Laker girl costumes and their heads full of pie in the sky. Yep, you guessed. These two aspiring actresses , one of who can act a little and it ain't Buffy let me tell you had a new plan for success in the Land of the Looney Tunes.  I only mention Buffy the Vampire as I can't seem to stop thinking of her as being that because for as long as I have known the two of them,  Carmen has gotten the hostess jobs and Buffy got in on her coattails. If Carmen got a small acting role, there was Buffy somewhere in the extra's pretending to be an actress.  When Carmen went to a well known acting school she somehow wrangled a second tution for half price and guess paid the full amount and who slid in the door on the discount? That and Carmen asked me to stop calling her Buffy the Leech.

So when they announced they were going to be Laker girls and they had joined a well known dance school (why must they all be "well known?" Can't you learn to act and dance and stuff without someone being "well known?" As far as I can tell after years and years of living here, well known simply means overpriced.) and for the next few months before tryouts Our house was full of the sound of "sweating with the hotties" music. Not that I minded of course. Even your own wife looks hot in spandex and when she's got a buddy...well never mind. I knew they wouldn't make it. I'm an expert at not making it. But I didn't say nothing, just tried my best to encourage them and keep Carmen's expectations from setting herself up for a big fall. Boy do I know about big falls.

As you may recall my trying out for the Dallas Cowboys was somewhat less that a spectacular success.  Not than much more than a total embarassment  if you must know the truth. All high school sports stars think they are special. Everyone tells us we are. Hot chicks like you if you are.  In 1965 it was no different than today. Only tougher. Same for 69, 72 and so on. For ever athlete who makes it to the pros and sticks for even a year there are 100,000 guys around America who honestly believe they have what it takes, I was no different. So the Cowboy fiasco driving home to me that I was neither good enough, or tough enough was an embarassment. To myself.

But it wasn't the only one. As a 17 year old second baseman I had led the league in hitting at .604. Lead off switch hitter, I also led the league in  stolen bases with nearly 50 stolen bases in 25 games. Caught once. Was on the all star team that journeyed down to San Diego to play a little exhibition game against the San Diego triple A team of the time. This was supposedly so some big league scouts could take a look at  us against some guys who could possible also be going to the big show one day.  I was ready. I was going to the big leagues. No doubt about it.

Lead off the game. Fast ball blew by me and i never saw it. DAMN!!...Curve ball looked about 4 feet outside until it broke so cleanly across the plate I almost joined the umpire in yelling STREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIKKKKKKKKKKKEEEEEEEE. "FOCUS DUSTY" I thought.

I had to guess fastball cause if i was looking for a curve and it was a fastball I'd be struck out in three pitches. It was a fastball and somehow or the other I got the bat around just well enough to poke the ball over the shortstops head. You know what that means when a left handed batter pokes a fast ball over the shortstops head right? The batter is about as Late as late can get without actually striking out. But never mind. There I was on first base and I went into my act. And what an act it was. I took my walking lead, pickoff throw. HOLY SHIT HE ALMOST GOT ME.!!!!!!  For the next ten minutes I dove in the dirt getting back and got rewarded with the first baseman slapping the ball in his glove on  my shoulder , my back....I was so bruised that they could have put me on SSI on the spot. But they didn't and I was damned if I was gonna shorten that lead.

Finally the Pitcher went home. Pitchout. My mother only raised one fool and that was my brother. I took a quick look at our third base coach and he was busy looking to see if his fly was open which meant the green light I had all season was still on. He wasn't interested in giving me a break and having me park it.  This went on for another good 10 minutes again. Pickoff throws,  couple of times i broke and the batter fouled it off.  A time out conference. I was starting to get cocky. I had them right where I wanted them. Triple A my ass. Whose your daddy?

FINALLY!!!!!!  Pitcher went home, battter didn't foul it off, I had a good solid foot longer lead that my normal lead and I was OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I launched myself headfirst  in my patented dust cloud raising, shortstop blinding, slide away from the glove hand and reached for the bag. And was tagged out an knew it before I even came within spitting distance  from the bag. DAMN!!!!!!!!!!

And that was the highlight of my day that day. Sad to say my coach told me it was just a matter of a perfect throw and even sadder to say next at bat I got another stick the bat out there and maybe it will hit something blooper and with the coaches words ringing in my ear I set out to avenge myself. And got thrown out a second time only this time they already had a card table set up at second base and were playing texas holdem with only 3 left at the final table. Walked next time at bat. Now you think I'm gonna say I was stupid enough to try it a third time aren't you? Nope. Parked my butt right there.

Couple of batters later the guy lines one into right and I was gone with two outs at the pitch. Picked up the third base coach waving me around and never broke stride digging for third. And got thrown out on the fly by the right fielder before I even went into my slide.

Sometimes Ya just gotta smile when they tell you they're gonna be Laker Girls. Why should I tell them? Let em suffer.