Rumble on the Mall
A message went out on a list-serve that I am on for a knitting group I keep on meaning to join up with in person but haven't gotten around to yet. It suggested that everyone forgo their usual crafting location this Sunday to instead go "heckle" kickballers on the Mall. This suggestion struck me as absurd for several reasons.
1.) More and more, it has come to my attention that kickballers are viewed as something of a scourge in our nation's capital. Sure, we play a game designed for 3 graders, drink beer and sometimes get a little rowdy. Um, that's what makes it fun. Plus, it's social and sometimes you meet cool people who then enrich your life in various ways. Sure, some kickballers are total twatwaffles who complicate your life or simply annoy you. But there are some real gems among us, and we don't appreciate being lumped-in with ignorant generalizations about how obnoxious all kickballers are.
2.) This email was penned by a guy who is part of a knitting group. Although I am open-minded enough to not cast judgments upon men who sit around knitting, not everyone is so enlightened. I'm sure some of the kickball twatwaffles would have some choice words for said individual.
3.) The author of the email obviously has no idea that some of his list-serve members happen to play kickball and that some (or one, and really I'm fine with being the only one) would take offense to his suggestion.
Despite these facts, the imagery this suggestion suggests is priceless, and may be brilliant enough to actually make his lame suggestion a good one. I can just picture a face-off under the Washington Monument wherein a group of kickballers in their color-coded tees shimmies and struts up to an opposing pack of bohemians, waving their knitting needles in the air like swords. The soundtrack to West Side Story plays in the background. Fingers snap. A pretty dark-haired girl from one side catches the eye of a rouge individual from the other. Kickballs are pierced by the needles. Chaos erupts. Elicit love blossoms, only to end in tragedy and heartbreak.
posted by Red Photography @ 4:12 PM
15 Comments:
Wow. I thinking more that the kickballers could pelt this asshat in the face with your balls.
But, I guess that lets the cycle of anger and intolerance continue. So, maybe just poke his bum with a knitting needle and say, "Grow up, twatwaffle." (My new favoritist word, by the way.)
It's not the kickballers that are the problem: it's the knitters. The way they storm into local craft stores after their knitting circles, blasting Journey while chugging Yoo-Hoo and playing "Hide the Needle..." it's the worst kind of behavior this fetid swamp of a city has ever seen. I hate those fuckers.
mwha ha ha ha... twatwaffle.... it's spreading
The sun has set on kickball in The Ditrict (and its outlying vicinities). It is time for it to pass quietly into the night.
I find the idea of playing kickball kinda dumb...for some reason, it reminds me of those kids in high school that thought they were so "alternative" but all dressed and acted exactly alike. That said, I really wouldn't bother heckling kickball players. Knitters, though?
Many kickball groups meet directly behind my apartment in Walter Pierce Park in Adams Morgan -- usually Wednesday or Thurs nights in the summertime. Every single one of my neighbors does not like them. Personally, I don't think it's such a big deal, but here are the reasons I can tell that people do not like the kickballers:
1 - Most kickballers live in the DC suburbs, but come into the city to play and do not respect neighborhood etiquette. The games tend to take over a much larger part of the park than anyone else uses -- even the latinos who regularly play soccer back there. I've had many dog owners say that the kickballers glare at them when the locals walk by. This annoys the neighbors because the kickballers -- for the most part -- do not even live in the city!
2 - The kickball games are very LOUD -- much louder than ANY other activity that goes on back there. Again, back to the suburban vs urban thing, but most people who come into Adams Morgan tend to behave like it's some kind of adult playground instead of a neighborhood where people actually live. Personally, the kickballers seem like nice enough people to me, but when the games go on and I have my windows open on a nice day, the screaming and yelling echoes through my apartment and sometimes it's even hard to have a conversation. Granted, I don't mind it (if you live in AM, you become used to noises like that!) but I assume many of my neighors DO NOT like the noise.
3 - AM residents -- especially people who've been here near a decade -- have a general resentment of the people who come here to party, loudly and drunkenly break stuff on the weekend, then depart back to their quiet neighborhoods. The locals around here get some respite from this during the week, but now that the kickballers have arrived, even mid-week we have to deal with rowdy out-of-towners.
Perhaps that's what's at the bottom of all this.
Hmmm...was the ball of yarn and knitting needles randomly left on your porch some sort of peace offering?
What a strange coming-together of two seemingly vastly different societies. Thankfully, they each have you as their ambassador.
Hey as long as they aren't actually kicking balls I don't think the thread bearer should fret too much about it. But I'm not going to tell any one how to spend their free time.
I definitely was not a big fan of the kickball crowd for a while, but it was mostly because I worked at the Dubliner and the kickball players always seemed to spill over from Irish Times right before I was about to get off and force me to work an extra 2 hours. But then I started playing with a bunch of my friends in Baltimore and have a great time. It seems a lot more acceptable to Baltimore residents than it does D.C. residents.
Seriously though, it takes alot to rile up the knitting community. Isn't knitting suppossed to be calming? They must have a passionate hatred for kickball. Maybe that guy was picked last in recess everyday in elementary school.
I'm on the same knitting list-serve (though unfortunately not a regular meeting attender), and you didn't read the e-mail very closely and seem to have completely misunderstood it. You are not, in fact, the only kickball player on the knitting list-serve. The invitation to heckle came, in fact, from someone ON a kickball team. It was a jesting invitation to come watch his game. Pity you missed it; seems you might have enjoyed the kickball-knitting combo. Seeing someone get all worked up about the honor and dignity of kickballers is pretty amusing, though.
Actually, my most darling Anon, I just went back and re-read the email, and the fact that the person was a kickballer wasn't that clear. However, I would hardly describe my post as "worked up." It was a slow blogging day and I had nothing else to stretch my sarcasm muscles for. Sar-casm. Look it up.
sar·chasm ('sär-"ka-z&m) : The giant gulf (chasm) between what is said and the person who doesn't get it.
Several of your commenters are twatwaffles.
Gracias for introducing this word to me. I will cherish it always.
I don't think Anonymous meant any harm...it's hard to convey the correct sarcasm/tone/anything really over the Internet. Crossed wires, nothing to get in a twatwaffle about.
Twatwaffle is quite possibly the greatest word in the history of mankind! I laugh every time I attempt to say it
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