A small yellow bus drove into the parking area of City Park in the small town of Dusty, Kansas. Inside the bus sat 20 small but eager girls from Mudville, Missouri. On this warm summer day was to be the District play-off tournament for the championship of the Girls' Softball League of America. Dusty and Mudville were the only two teams now in the exciting battle for championship.

Dusty was a very small town; it had a population of about 50. But it had one of the best girls' softball teams around. It had been decided earlier that Dusty would be the home team because the average weight of the Dusty players was about 390 pounds, making transportation very difficult for that team.

At 1:00 p.m. the crowds were assembled and the players were about to be announced. The announcer began first to introduce the visiting Mudville team.

"First is Hildegard Smartnose," he said. "She stands 4 feet 7 inches and weighs 69 pounds. She's the largest girl on the Mudville team."

The other players were then introduced, each one standing about 4 feet tall and weighing 60 pounds.

Finally it was time to introduce the home team.

"Catching for Dusty," spoke the announcer, "is Susie Jane Love. Who stands 7 feet 8 inches and weighs 563 pounds."

Out stepped the biggest, ugliest female anyone had ever seen. Her shoulders measured 411 feet across and the ground shook when she walked. She carried a catcher's mitt that was as big as she.

The rest of the players were also quite extraordinary. The pitcher, a southpaw, had a muscle on her left arm as big around as a telephone pole. The lst baseman was nicknamed "Stretch." She could put her right foot on lst base and dust off home plate with her left hand.

Mudville was to bat first, so the Dusty pitcher and the 563 pound Dusty catcher began warming up. The pitcher would wind up slightly and give an underhand pitch. Whhoooosh, BAM!!; right down the gut and into the gigantic mitt of the catcher who had to spend 5 minutes after each pitch fishing through her mitt trying to find the ball.

Finally the first batter came to the plate. The signals were checked and the first pitch was thrown. Whhoooosh, BAM! "Striiieeeke," yelled the umpire. After two more fast pitches the batter was out without even swinging once, and for that matter, without ever even seeing the lightning-speed ball.

The second batter came up and the first pitch was thrown. Whhooosh. The batter shut her eyes tight and held the bat straight out. WRACK! The ball hit dead center on the bat and flew out towards center field. The center fielder jumped 15 feet in the air, caught the ball, which had already taken a bounce, and threw it to first; while all this time the batter just stood there holding the bat which had cracked in two from the impact.

Then the third batter came to the plate. The catcher called the signals. It looked like it was going to be a bird. The birdie pitch was one of the Dusty pitcher's specialties. She wrapped her criss-crossed fingers around the ball about 12 times and threw it. The ball went straight up, did about six loops in the air, came down, circled the field, and about 30 minutes later reached the batter who clobbered it with everything she had. WHACK! Way out in deep left field went the ball; but the left fielder, with her amazing speed, moved under the ball so quickly that she had time to eat her lunch, consisting of three hotdogs, a bologna sandwich, five vanilla milkshakes and two cases of beer, before the ball reached her.

The Dusty girls had proved their superiority in the field. But how would they do at bat, and how well, or how disgracefully would Mudville do in the field?

The Mudville pitcher began warming up. This 4 foot 1 inch girl raised the ball above her head, then came down with a simple underhand toss. Whhoooosh, BAM! It was amazing. Those Mudville gals had something in them after all.

The first batter stepped to the plate, and the first pitch came high and fast. Whhoooosh, BAM! "Striiieeeke," yelled the umpire.

"Whataya mean 'strike', "screamed the batter. "That was way over my head!"

The umpire shrugged and said, "I don't know how to play."

The second pitch was good. Whhoooosh, WRACK! The ball flew straight up about 2000 yards, and the batter ran the bases eight times before the ball finally came down and landed in the pitcher's glove.

The second batter then came forward. She was the best slugger on the team. The first pitch was hard and fast, Whoooosh, the batter swung, THUD, TH-B-B-B-B. The tremendous impact of the bat on the ball caused the ball to become nothing but a pile of powder on home plate.

A new ball was thrown in and the pitch was made. Whhoooosh, WHACK! It was a high fly headed clear out of the ball park. The center fielder raced after it. Out of the park and down the highway she ran. She was standing on the corner of Main and 4th in the nearby town of Ashley when the ball eventually found its way into her dainty little paw. But wasn't this a homerun? It went over the fence. No, the writers of the original League rules had never heard of a girl that could hit a ball half-way to the fence so the rule was never considered. A fly caught was an out.

By the bottom of the seventh and last inning, the score was all tied up--zero to nothing. The big, strong Dusty girls were now at bat for the last time with Mudville in the field. There was a runner on third, and the first out had just been made by a girl who struck out because a sonic boom made by a fast-moving ball earlier in the game had shattered her glasses.

So the next batter came to the plate. There were two outs left to get that one runner in, and the Dusty girls were determined to do it and win the championship.

The first pitch came, Whhoooosh, and the batter swung, WHACK! It was a hard line drive directly to the 3 foot 10 inch 2nd basesman who held out her ungloved hand and caught it before the batter even had a chance to lay down the bat.

The next batter was the slugger of the Dusty team; the same girl who had knocked the ball clear to Ashley in the first inning. The Dusty fans were confident that she would win the game for them.

The first pitch was hard and fast. Whhoooosh. The batter swung and barely nicked the ball causing it to fly rapidly backwards straight into the catcher's face. The face mask was shattered into about 80 pieces, but the catcher was still alive.

The second pitch was another fast one. Whhoooosh. The batter swung with all her might, knowing that the reputation of the entire Dusty team rested on her. WHACK! It was a tremendous hit. The ball zoomed clear out of the ball park and kept going as far as the eye could see. But the right fielder was hot after it. Through the town and down the highway she ran, dashing past cars going 70 miles an hour. She reached New York City, then swam the Atlantic. Across Africa she ran, still keeping her eye on the ball. She was somewhere in the middle of Saudi Arabia when the ball finally came down and landed on the sandy ground about ten feet in front of her.

"Darn it," she said. "I missed it."

But it had only been about three seconds since the ball had been hit, so she knew she had a chance of getting it back in time. She grabbed the ball and with one great and mighty heave threw a direct beeline toward home plate. The ball went completely straight, about 10,000 miles per second, knocking anything and everything out of its way-houses, camels, trees, people, ships, mountains-nothing could hinder the ball from its destined course.

Back at the ball park, the runner at third was well on her way to home. It looked hopeful to the Dusty fans. But as they glanced toward the East, they saw in the distance trees, houses, mountains, ships and bicycles being thrown every which way high in the air as if in a tornado. With this terrible destruction coming closer and closer, they knew the ball was fast on its way.

The catcher was waiting open-gloved with one foot on home plate. The runner was coming with terrific speed as the ball suddenly came into the park and headed right for the catcher, The runner was almost home but the ball. was coming fast. The runner reached home plate the exact second that the ball crashed into the catcher's mitt.

Needless to say, the umpire, not daring to say anything, pulled out a gun and shot himself. Everyone left the park that afternoon quite disappointed that the game had not produced a winner, but all looked forward to the next delightful game, whenever it would be, when they could see their lovely girls do their thing again.

--Monte Berrett--
--Mike Berrett--