An Explanation of My Two-Week Hiatus

It all started one spring evening while sitting in the stands of the stadium for baseball playing. With runners on the corners, a lanky relief pitcher had just walked yet another opposing batter. This young man wiped the sweat from his brow as the groans and boos fell upon the night like slow churning butter. At his wits end, the manager of the hometown team called time out and dejectedly walked out towards the grass. With a pensive stare he scanned the stands, peering at the individuals chomping their hot dogs and sipping their beers. I shifted uneasily in my seat (sec. 134, row 6, seat 7) nervously awaiting his darting glance. When (inevitably) our eyes met, his widened as if horrified. He turned to spit, then waved me onto the field. A suddenly transformed crowd cheered heartily like slow churning butter as I made my way through them to the field below. "Throw 'em your Spacey Spiral Ball", the mustachioed manager grumbled to me as he slammed the ball into my six-fingered hand. I gave a quick nod of approval, walked to the mound and kicked at the dirt. Collecting my thoughts, I took a deep breath and began my baseball career by striking out the side on nine pitches. Eventually, they gave me a uniform (with a 61 sewn on the back) allowing me to travel with the team and lead them to victory night after night. After winning the championship, I was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame (http://web.baseballhalloffame.org) and retired as quickly as I had begun; leaving me to pursue my real passion, writing a nonsensical blog like slow churning butter.