Bullies steal wiffle ball World Series

“Our wiffle team’s victory is one of the most epic underdog stories ever told.” This quotation from Sean Maye ’11 pretty much sums up the tale of the Mean Bullies, a motley crew of a wiffle ball team that no one gave a chance to win it all. But in the end, the Bullies won the Intramural World (read: Middlebury) Series and this hodgepodge of randoms lived a dream so trite it must be true.

“After losing to ‘It’s Like It Touches Your Soul’ (the team we beat in the championship series) 15-0 in only three innings to start off the season, and then 13-1 in game one of the best of three championship, nobody thought we could win,” said Joey Colianni ’09.5. “Some of us couldn’t hit, others couldn’t field and some couldn’t do either one, but we put it all together in games two and three to pull off the victory.”

The newly formed team came into the season as an unknown quantity, but after the initial trouncing, its inexperience was quite evident. Aware of this absence of ability, co-captain Mai Ann Healy ’09.5 highlighted the intangible assets the team brought to the field every game.

“What we lacked in athletic cognition we made up for in spirit, laughter and, of course, pantsing,” she said.

As the season went on, the Bullies tried many unorthodox techniques to improve their skills. According to co-captain Alex Schloss ’09.5, the squad “even had a practice one day.” Healy once again focused on the less concrete aspects of the game and provided the necessary nourishment to cultivate team chemistry.

“I would attribute our team’s success to a practice catered by Mai Ann Healy — shrimp cocktail and growlers breed great wiffleballers,” said Grace Rumford ’09.5.

The Mean Bullies also benefited from the admissions office’s diminished standards for athletes. Although dominating on the field, some of the players were less impressive in postgame interviews.

When asked about the plays that stand out in his mind, Moriel Rothman ’11 said: “I think the most memorable moment for me was what we have nicknamed ‘the tornado.’ This was during a period in which our team was practicing between two and five times a day, and we were ready for anything. We had drive, spirit, dedication, provocation, commiseration, sensuality — all that it takes to make a supreme team. So anyway, the tornado. We were facing our rivals, the Nice Peasants, and we were down like 15 touchdowns to seven baskets. Luckily, Michael Jordan was on our side. So, therefore, ergo ... we winned. So there you have it. Wiffle ball in a nutshell.”

While none of Rothman’s commentary is even remotely close to reality and offers very little insight into the Mean Bullies’ story, it does demonstrate the clean, concise prose that is indicative of a good college essay.

The story of how these players got to Middlebury is a remarkable story on its own, but how they found each other is just as unexpected. Many of the teammates had never met before they joined each other on the road to intramural immortality. The Mean Bullies came from friend groups from across the campus, brought together by a common love of the game.

“It started with an e-mail, a joke of an idea between Schloss and me, to bring our best friends from separate worlds together in the great game that is wiffle,” said Healy. “But it was there on the blissful field of Battell Beach that our team, as the uncontrollable ball of dystrophy that I came to depend on throughout the semester, came back to beat a team that had killed us earlier in the season. Beauty, that’s what I call our team. Beauty.”

These beautiful bumblers had their fair share of highlight reel moments. Dave DeMarkis ’10 led the team’s fielding with a spectacular behind the back catch and Ann Montgomery ’09.5 was an offensive juggernaut with the team’s highest on-base percentage. “She almost always walked,” said Schloss.

Starting as just a rag-tag bunch of misfits with nothing in common, the Mean Bullies achieved greatness through hard work, determination and a few of the screwball plays that are so typical of this kind of story. Summing up the joy of the experience and in the process belittling perhaps the greatest hockey story ever, Colianni said, “I now know how the 1980 U.S. Olympic Hockey Team felt when they defeated the Soviets en route to their gold medal.”