At last! Summer has arrived on the calendar. Time for my scorched brain to recall the year that the National Weather Service officially declared Kansas as being "Hotter than Hell"---the summer of 1980. It seemed that almost every day from June through August was over 100 degrees, many 110 degrees-plus. Check the records yourself; the Flaming Bore is not exaggerating, for a change. It was HOT!
This was, unfortunately, the same summer that the women's slow-pitch softball league in our little town got uniforms. Now, I'm not talking just a v-necked, numbered t-shirt to be worn over a pair of cut-off shorts. Oh, no. This was a major-league, regulation, polyester double-knit top in chocolate brown worn over stretchy, neon orange, heat-sucking, below-the-knees pants. We all looked like big-butt, ball-playing, screaming pumpkins. Hideous. I hated that uniform. And I hated it even more when the temperatures started soaring.
Well, we all know that women can only tolerate so much heat. One miserably hot evening, a few of us on our team decided we'd solve the problem and show up for our game wearing the sticky, itchy shirt over brown or orange shorts. We'd still be in our team colors and have our sponsor's name on our chests. We'd just be more comfortable. Little did we know that we'd cause a calamity.
"The sponsors have donated a lot of money. You have to wear the complete uniform," the league director told us. "I'll let you get away with it this time, but next game you must wear the pants."
"But they're so hot and uncomfortable!" someone, not me, wailed about the pants. "It's 115 degrees out!"
No mercy. "That's the rule. Wear the complete uniform or you don't play."
I was no fool. There was no thinking over this one. The enjoyment of the game was long gone. I resigned on the spot. No more suffocating in that awful uniform. No more looking like an orange nightmare. I wasn't a hot-head about it. No, no. I kept my cool. Then I happily went home and spent the rest of the summer of 1980 in air-conditioned comfort. That was the last year I ever picked up a ball glove or stuffed my butt into orange polyester pumpkin pants.
4 comments:
That was the year I was born. You better believe it was hot. ha ha.
Ask your Mom---see if she remembers how awful it was. If you are a July baby like your big sis, then your mom would surely recall the high temps.
I was a September baby and she has told me all about it. When I was preg. with Tay in 06 we broke a few of those records. Only a day or two.
OH, MAN, THE LAST THREE MONTHS OF HER PREGNANCY MUST HAVE BEEN HOT AND HEAVY!
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