It had been several years since I had participated in a sport that required more cardiovascular capacity than a lazy roll to the mailbox—emphasis on lazy. At six-foot-three and 260 pounds of body by XBox, I viewed myself as having the perfect physique of the stereotypical softball player. But it was at the second annual Wheelchair Wind-Up Softball Tournament that I nearly met my maker in the (what felt like) 110-degree sun.

Disabled Players Rule
The tournament, put on by the Verne Cox Center in Pasadena, Texas, outside of Houston, did not provide defibrillators, but they did provide a variety of sport chairs for players with disabilities and the nondisabled alike.

You see, this tournament gives the illusion of leveling the playing field between wheelchair users and their ambulatory counterparts by putting the walkies in chairs. What the organizers of the event did not tell nondisabled players is that they would be placed on teams that didn’t have a chance in hell because the Pasadena Punishers, the reigning champs, consisted of mostly wheelchair sports veterans.

Aging Athlete
Now I have played in my share of wheelchair sports, participating in a whole slew of short distance runs, one marathon, and a handful of cycling events—one was a 62-mile ride in the Katy Flatland Challenge.

But that was ten years ago, back when I was a svelte youngster with tree-trunk arms and T10-11 four-pack abs. Now, I am sometimes mistaken for a resident at the old folks home where I volunteer for Bingo. One of these days they aren’t going to let me out of that place.

Tempers Flare
The softball tourney was a two-day event, with four games on Saturday and two games on Sunday. We blew out the first two teams we played on Saturday, scoring more than twenty runs in the first game. We were the kind of team you love to be on but hate to play. There was trash talking, superfluous celebrations and on-field teasing that nearly led to blows during one game.

After a heated exchange following a blown call, I took my position as catcher (that’s where the slow people play) and asked the ump if he’d ever seen the benches clear in a wheelchair softball game.

“No,” he said, “but there’s a first time for everything.”

After the game, when we were congratulating the other team on their big loss, I expected punches to be thrown, but I was disappointed. Besides, it was typically the non-wheelchair users who were the most upset at the razzing, and what kind of assholes would they look like if they got beat down by some crips.

Heat Takes Out Captain
After the second game, our team captain fell out with heat stroke. I mean, what do you expect? The temperature was pushing into the high 90s during Saturday’s games, and most of the wheelers were paralyzed and unable to sweat effectively below their injury line.

My guess is that the next tournament will be held earlier or later in the year when it’s much cooler. Otherwise, scrapers will be needed to peel people off the pavement again.

Anyway, the third and fourth games were against much better teams than the first two games, but we managed to shut them out, albeit with single digit scores. Take a look at these video game highlights.

With four wins and zero losses, the Pasadena Punishers were on their way to being repeat champions, but I wouldn’t be there for it.

MIA
Oh, sure, I had every intention of returning for Sunday’s games. Really, I did. I even told my teammates as much before I rolled to the car and struggled to get in. It was only Sunday morning when I woke up in excruciating pain that I decided the team would do fine without me. Alas, I am old, fat and in poor shape. Not really out of shape…if you consider fleshy and round a shape.

So did my venture into the tournament result in a return to working out? Not so much. Maybe next year. And who won the tournament? I couldn’t even tell you. I’m still looking for my lungs.