It was The Press v. Balls of Fury tonight.

We like Balls of Fury. They’re our favorite team in the league (they don’t cheat and they aren’t two-time pro all-star sensations ready to spank us).

Although we played much better than last week—which kind of goes without saying—we just couldn’t get our players on base.

And Balls of Fury completely capitalized on several errors we made.

The result: Balls of Fury took it 7-4.

The Press is now 2-for-4, but we’re planning to add another one to the W column next week.

At the post-game gathering at MacDinton’s, I learned a new version of kickball.

As I was leaving, the bouncer and valet guy asked if I had come from a softball game.

“No, kickball.”

“Really? Are you in that drinking league?” the bouncer asked.

Unfortunately we’re not.

“Kickball rocks!” the valet guy said.

I asked if he plays in a league, which he doesn’t.

He plays drinking kickball with a bunch of his fraternity brothers.

Every player starts with a cup of beer. They station a pony keg at second base.

Every time you make it to second, you have to refill your cup. You must hold your cup in one hand at all times, whether you’re kicking or catching.

Gotta love it.