Put me in my place?

I am pissed off. Enraged. My blood is boiling. I need to vent. Why? Because of men and their stupid, stupid egos.

As I mentioned before, I've assumed responsibility for my rec-league softball team. As I've also mentioned before, my team has a few whining babies on it that question my authority and complain about where or if they're playing. In last night's game, we started a little short of players, so I made the very strategic decision to go without a second basemen, as there are few lefthanded batters, and even fewer people who can go the other way. It was generally thought to be a very savvy move.

Baldo showed up a little late, and still I stuck with my strategy, playing with 4 outfielders and no second baseman. Not only did we win, but we won with the mercy rule.

Later on in the evening, I was watching TV with the cute neighbor, when our friend and teammate, D.B. called. He told me he had just had the world's longest conversation with Baldo, and that his head hurt from it. (D.B., like me and the cute neighbor, finds Baldo annoying, but takes particular offense at how much he talks.) Apparently, the entire conversation was about me, and how much I had pissed him off. It took us quite awhile to pinpoint just when I had managed to piss him off, as I hadn't really said much to him the whole game. Then I remembered. The one play Baldo made the entire game. He caught a fly ball. Then he proceeded to hold on to the ball for far too long, in the hope that someone would wander off a base, and he could throw them out. However, Baldo could not hit the broad side of a barn, as his throwing arm is terribly wild, and everyone knows it. Therefore, I called to him to get the ball in. He finally did, but then turned to me and said, "I've had about enough of you, woman." This was made to sound like a joke, but apparently it wasn't.

After the game, he railed to D.B. about me, saying that he knows how to play the game of softball (debatable, but apparently wearing not one, but TWO batting gloves, means that he can play. Who needs two batting gloves in slow-pitch?!), and he doesn't need to hear it from me. Then he said, he needed to "put me in my place."

Wait, what? I'm sorry, is this 1954? When women need to be put in their place for telling men what to do? Not only is this ridiculous, but it's offensive. Because I gave a simple instruction to get the ball back to the pitcher, I need to be put in my place? He never, EVER would have said this if anyone else on the team with a penis had given him the same instruction. EVER. Nor would he have ever said "I've had about enough of you, man" had the pitcher said it. There is a good chance I will be taking over the team in the spring, and I can tell you who will NOT be getting invitations to play with us. I don't have room for these guys AND their egos.

Grayer suggested I "accidentally" hit Baldo on the side of the head. Then blame it on my boobs. I think Grayer is onto something.