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Dallas kickball league lets grownups play like kids

09:18 AM CDT on Tuesday, July 1, 2008

By HOLLY YAN / The Dallas Morning News
hyan@dallasnews.com

It's like recess for grown-ups – but with rock music and some adult twists added.

Video
Kicked-back attitude rules in Dallas adult kickball league (DMN - Video/editing: Melanie Burford)
06/26/2008
Local/State Videos

For three hours every week, members of the Texas Liberty adult kickball league raid Griggs Park in Uptown to behave like kids again. Some are seeking vindication for being kickball-challenged in grade school. For others, it's an opportunity to dominate the big kids.

But for many, it's just a great way to meet new friends.

Chris Garinger took his preparation for the season opener very seriously.

"You've gotta make sure the drinks are prepared," he said, holding a cup containing beer, vodka, grain alcohol, "maybe even some moonshine" and a splash of fruit punch.

His team is called Smurf Yeah, a reference to the animated TV series Family Guy. Each player has his or her own Smurf name. Mr. Garinger is River Trip Smurf because he passed out for three hours last year after tubing down the Guadalupe River.

Some prepared with almost Zen-like meditation. Others practiced kicking the ball around. Mr. Garinger and his teammates kept chugging their punch.

"You loosen up a bit," he said.

His first kick, a high flier, backfired when the opposing team caught the ball near second base.

"Next time I'm going to bunt," he whispered.

Most players range from age 23 to 35. By day, they work in fields such as accounting, insurance, law and the oil industry. By night, they're unleashing their stress on the kickball field.

"You have a bad day at work, you just kick the crap out of a red rubber ball and have a few drinks," player Lee Puckett said, "and life is good."

Some teams have adult-sounding names that wouldn't be found on a playground.

'This ain't hopscotch'

At times, the competition got intense as Poison's "Nothin' But a Good Time" bellowed from a boom box.

One team captain complained about a side-armed pitch, emphasizing the rules of legal underhanded throws.

Another player practically missed the ball during a kick and jumped up and down in frustration.

"This ain't four-square or hopscotch!" someone taunted.

"I think a lot of people got picked on in school," Mr. Garinger said. "They want to show the kids from the second grade what's up. But there are people like me who have been ringers from Day One."

Texas Liberty president Jay Banos, an account manager, said his social growth in Dallas probably would have been stunted if not for kickball games.

After moving to Dallas from New Orleans in 2004, "I didn't know anyone," Mr. Banos said.

"I got involved in a work team. ... I got to meet people I didn't work with."

Mr. Banos' nickname is Haughty Smurf because he's very particular in his tastes.

For example, he won't partake in the laced fruit punch the rest of his team is drinking. Instead, he has his own cup of 7UP "doctored with fun."

For the record, Smurf Yeah trounced its opponent, 8-1.

But Lisa Mason didn't seem to mind her team's loss.

"It breaks up the monotony of the workweek," said Ms. Mason, 31, who joined the league with her husband on the recommendation of his friends.

At the end of each game night, the teams scurry to their sponsoring sports bar, Christies in Uptown. That's where the battered limbs and bruised egos are often remedied with a drink and some kickball camaraderie.

A spirited bunch

Area membership in the World Adult Kickball Association has grown from about 90 players three years ago to more than 1,000 today, said Jill Schaefer, the group's Dallas regional representative.

The winning teams in the regular season and the playoffs will earn bids to compete at the WAKA championship in Las Vegas.

Texas Liberty members have held fundraisers to support Habitat for Humanity volunteers. They've sold Women of Kickball and Men of Kickball calendars, which have included players modeling next to sports cars while holding a kickball.

Even passers-by got a kick out of watching the teams play.

"It's just like when we were kids," said Steve Karns, who was out walking his dog Nena. "Everyone could play, and you don't have to be good."

Mr. Banos agreed. "I was really bad then, too."

Except these older players might actually have more spirit.

Tracey Cox, captain of the Dream Killers, celebrates themed weeks in the league. One week, the team had an all-out pep rally on the field, with players running through a giant banner. Ms. Cox also carries around a huge megaphone with "Dream Killers" emblazoned on the side.

"We probably are nuts," Ms. Cox said. "I'm sure a lot of people do think it's weird. But we have a great time."

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