ANOTHER YEAR... MARCHing on (Part 155a)

ANOTHER YEAR... MARCHing on (Part 155a)

The boys varsity team was definitely better this time. More disciplined and able to run designed plays, they actually looked pretty good against a team that was bigger than they were. We got to our seats just as the cheerleaders made their entrance. Arriving later than I’d wanted, we ended up in higher seats that did not offer much of a chance for panty peeks. Seeing Barbara made for some mixed feelings. It was the first time I’d seen her since her mother had told Elle about her deliberate wetting. As much as I enjoyed the sensual part of Elle’s wetting, the thought of Barbara doing it for her own pleasure was something totally different to comprehend. Her bedwetting was an unfortunate ‘condition’, much like Elle’s, and not sensual at all. It was just a strange feeling, looking at her cavorting around with the other cheerleaders, knowing that she got pleasure from wetting herself. Maybe if she’d been older at the time I would’ve enjoyed knowing about it but, as it was, it left me somewhat uncomfortable.

Elle and the girls left before the end of the game as Elle found Kaye was running a fever. She hadn’t been her usual self at dinner but wanted to go to the game to see Barbara. I told her to head on home as I wanted to talk with Jack (the coach) about practices for our upcoming town team games. Jack had ‘scouted’ our next opponent and I was curious at to what he’d discovered and wanted to know if he had a plan on how to play them. Winning our last game had boosted our spirits and had us looking forward to another game. However, the ‘news’ such as it was, wasn’t good. Jack called the guys on the team we were to play “bullies” and proceeded to describe their leader as a “thug”. Not only that, but they were pretty good ballplayers as well. He’d called for a longer practice the next day and had gotten a good response from most of the guys. He asked if I could stay a little longer as well. What could I say but “Yes”.

What made the practice interesting was that a couple of the guys brought their wives or girlfriends. Bobo organized a sort of indoor picnic with them so that when we finished up we’d get to know each other better. Davo’s girlfriend was the one I focused on. I dubbed her the girl with the “perpetual smile”. Leigh was a ‘solid’ girl who could’ve lost a few pounds. About 5’8“ or so she had brown shoulder length hair and a decent figure. I can’t really describe what she was wearing for pants because I don’t know what, if any, category they would fit. They weren’t jeans or made of denim. The color was oatmeal and the sort of looked like they’d been slept in. But, across her rear, they were nice and tight. After meeting her at the beginning of the practice I couldn’t wait until we were finished. I saw the potential for a nice VPL.

Jack, for practice, had come up with a few plays that he thought might help us out so we went over them multiple times. He’d recruited some of his varsity ball players to make up another team so were practicing with game conditions. If there was one thing we accomplished it was to reinforce how old and slow we’d become. Jokingly, we asked if we could draft the kids to play on our team. By the time we finished the ladies had everything in place for lunch. As I said, she’d declared it was ”an indoor picnic“ and it looked it. Salads, rolls, delicatessen meats, beer and soda. I made sure to put myself in position to observe Leigh as she moved about. It only took a few minutes before she bent over to get a beer out of a cooler. Voila! A beautiful VPL. What made it so good was that, once having seen it, I could still see a faint outline of it while she was standing. Definitely my kind of panty with a crotch big enough to be seen without bending over like the panties Bobo wore. Now the question was... who made them. A wild hope for me was to see a DP but she was wearing a sweater that covered her waist line. But, having met her and having a chance to talk a bit with her I knew I’d get more chances in the future. She told me she and Davo would be going to all the stock car races that Cliffy would be driving in during the Summer.

The game against the ”bullies“ was a disaster, right from the start. We hadn’t been playing for more than a few minutes before Jack called for a ‘time out’. Their team was pushing and shoving us around and the referee wasn’t calling any fouls on them. All Jack wanted to tell us was ”Don’t get hurt... be careful.“ How prophetic! Within a minute of that time out I went for a rebound and got clobbered by the chief bully while up in the air and when I landed I knew I was in trouble. Long story short, I came down with my right foot tucked under me. It hurt right away and when I tried to stand I couldn’t. At first I thought I’d broken it. So, I was the first casualty. Adam was next as one of their guys hit him in the nose with his elbow. Blood was everywhere. By half time we’d scored only a few baskets and were a bruised and beaten group. By the time the game was over everyone of the team had visual signs of a mugging.

As we packed up it was Jack who made the suggestion that we might want to seriously think about dropping out of the league. We had to have at least seven players and three of the eight of us were probably not going to be able to play the next game. What had Jack all fired up was that the referee didn’t do anything letting most of the fouls go. I honestly don’t remember any foul shots at all. He told us that he’d understand if we wanted to end our participation right then and there. The vote was six to two to end it that day.

The final tally on the injuries... Adam's broken nose needed two operations to repair... a sprained wrist... a dislocated shoulder... a sprained thumb...multiple bruises and a severely sprained ankle (mine). Jack wrote (and spoke) to the organizers to complain but all they did was to point out that we’d all signed waivers of responsibility before we started. As a footnote... of the seven teams that started the year only four remained to the end. Jack talked with the coaches of the other teams that dropped out and their complaint was the same as his... the referees didn’t do their job.  The following year only three teams signed up and, for all intents and purposes, the whole thing was over. Jack later found out that the leader of the ”bullies“ had put up the money to pay the referees so they were on his payroll. No wonder they didn’t call fouls on his team.

To be continued...