Got Into A Bocce Ball League Scrap With The Elderly, Protest Pending

So it’s Spring Break. Was hoping that maybe I’d get the call up to the livestreams this weekend since my schedule is more free than a toothpicked sample of teriyaki chicken at the mall food court, more cleared off than a car windshield that’s been defrosted while you eat breakfast, more open than the great Riley Re…eh nevermind. Remember your day job, Tate. Point being, I’m not busy.

But, alas, like Armando Gallarago pitching with Jim Joyce behind 1st, it seems like I will just be a one hit wonder. Will go back to blogging about Cleveland sports.

Anyways, decided to head down to a little abode called Naples, Florida, and visit my grandparents. They live in a quaint, charming retirement community called Foxfire Golf and Country Club, which is super convenient as neither of the 85 year olds can swing a club. Good thing we’re paying the HOA dues that comes with yearly greens fees included for the 27 hole course though. My inheritance thanks you!   

So the beginning of the week went pretty smooth, except for the fact that I had to pretend to go to the bathroom a couple times during lunch to check my phone as it was blowing up more than, whew — just dodged another insensitive joke. Ultimately I had to come clean to them both as I needed to set up shop for the Dave Portnoy Show. To my surprise, they didn’t mind whatsoever. In fact, they were thrilled. The love his quick witted personality from the Tucker Carlson Show!

Anyways, once that was over, I told them I’d put the phone away for the remaining two days. It was time to spend some quality moments with my aging grandparents. Figured I was done with fireworks until at least the 4th of July. But boy was I wrong. Welcome to the Wednesday afternoon Bocce League.

So apparently one of the 6 members of our team, the High Rollers, was unable to make it (don’t worry, not a permanent absence), and I was requested to fill in. I said, Grandpa, is that allowed? This is League Play. He assured me that while it probably was frowned upon in the rule book, no one would say anything. They’d played multiple grandchildren in the previous weeks. Okay — sounds good! Let’s roll. 

We get out there in the boiling Florida sun at 2:00 for our 2:30 match because of Old People Time, but I got stretched out and ready to make my official debut. Other team shows up and they’re just the jolliest of fellows. Everyone’s happy to be there, seemed like the highlight of their week. My grandparents introduce me to both our team and theirs, and everyone is just over the moon that I was able to fill in. Crisis averted!

Me and my partner head down to the far side with the two we would be throwing against, and I must admit, I did get triggered.

Older gentlemen, probably 75, wearing a Duke polo introduces himself as Norm. Sees my Ohio State polo and pompously says, oh are you a Buckeye? My grandson goes to Duke. At least his team is still in the tournament. 

I hated Norm from the first time I laid eyes on him. Now all I had in my mind was that I wanted to win — but I also didn’t want to ruffle any feathers. (This is textbook foreshadowing)

So we start the match, playing to 7, best two out of three. The High Rollers go up 6-0 in the first game and I’m on cloud 9, but trying not to make the other team feel bad, constantly reminding them that I’m sure it’s just Beginners Luck. 

I can sense some frustration coming from the other team, but it was only Game 1. Besides, they came back and beat us 7-6. Haven’t seen a collapse like that in Florida since….okay moving on. 

Game two I had to sit out. Ladies turn. We go down 4-2 in a win or go back to the condo situation, so I decided in my mind that I didn’t care about the result anymore, just there for fun. Until we stormed back for a monumental, series changing 7-5 win. We were headed to Game 3, and I wanted blood (not literally, some of these guys were a scrape away from serious issues).

Game 3 was back and forth, with us going up 6-5 on a big round where we definitely scored 1, and needing to break out measuring stick to see if we actually got 2 and ended the match. The tape measured hit our ball, locked into place, swung around and missed theirs. We were closer. Ballgame. 

Okay, handshake time everyone. I reach out to Norm, and I’m not going to lie I was playing good sport but in my head I was hoping this one stung him bad. But turns out I wasn’t playing Norm, I was playing none other than Juwan Howard. No handshake back!

Norm went right over to my grandpa and said, "Now is he on the approved substitute list?" My grandpa, partially hard of hearing, partially a smart aleck, said huh? Juwan yelled, "IS HE ON THE SUB LIST?" Grandpa got back to him, "of course not, he’s just our grandson."

And folks, at that moment, Norm declared that this match was now under protest. Marched (waddled with a slight limp) his behind right into the clubhouse to report it. Came out and said the manager wasn’t there but he will make sure that win gets marked down for the proper team.

I laughed out loud. I’ve never seen anything like this in my entire life. Other team huddled up saying things like “this isn’t right” and “the rules were clearly stated at the beginning of the season meeting.” Mind you, these people are so old that basically shouting at each other because no one can hear.

Credit to my grandparents, they literally could not have cared less. We loaded up the golf court and headed home.

I got on a flight this morning (blogging this in my notes app on the plane) so I don’t have an update on the situation. Let’s just call it PENDING. But I don’t know guys, I’m kind of torn here. On one hand, rules are rules. If you need to be on the approved sub list, you need to be on the approved sub list. I gotta think Goodell takes this one off the board. However, if I was defending the High Rollers, my argument is that you cannot protest after you lose. You all knew darn well that I was just visiting, and it wasn’t until a come from behind victory in Game 3 that you gotta your Depends in bunch. If they wanted me to sit out the match, I would’ve. But to allow me to play, win, and then protest is Busch League. 

Thoughts? (And thanks for letting me pass time on the airplane)