Here Are Lies About Gawker's Softball Team From a Kid Named Kevin

Last night, Gawker's softball team—Gawker Softball: Presented by Max Read—played Thrillist at Randall's Island, which has dozens upon dozens of perfectly manicured baseball fields that smell faintly of raw sewage. Or maybe that stench was just our team. We lost 33-5.

As you could deduce from that score, Thrillist was very good and very serious about the sport of media softball. We, on the other hand, are not very good. We can barely hit, can't field, and one of our best players was a 12-year-old named Kevin. Kevin, who is pictured above third from right, was hanging around Randall's Island with his father when A.J. Daulerio asked him if he would like to play on our team. He did, and his dad consented. Yes, a parent knowingly put his child in the custodianship of A.J. Daulerio.

After the game, I talked to Kevin about our team—I wanted to get an outsider's perspective on just how horrible we are. I told Kevin to be as honest as possible, but perhaps not wanting to hurt my feelings, his assessment of our skills was a bit... restrained.

So, here are the lies Kevin told me with my annotations correcting his statements for our readers.

Uh, it was okay. It was a good team.

We were not a good team. Nor were we okay. We were openly bad, as evidenced by the fact that we lost by 28 runs. After the game, the umpire—there was an umpire!—noted that there were "really only two bad innings," which wasn't true. They all were bad.

The weaknesses were where to throw the ball and how to play in the field to get the out.

Okay, this part is true. We frequently had no idea where to throw the ball in specific situations and generally speaking were weak in the field. But Kevin also left a bunch of stuff out: we couldn't pitch—our pitchers walked multiple batters in softball—and there were multiple innings in which we didn't even get a runner on base. In softball.

Strengths, um, hitting and good fielding, like in the outfield and catching the ball.

Neither of these things could be called strengths. We could not hit, seeing as we scored five runs, and, as Kevin already noted, "good fielding" is not a phrase you would use to describe us. Now, some people did make some nice catches in the outfield, but those were far outweighed by all the times the ball rolled to the fence allowing piles of runs to score.

Out of a 10, I'd say... a 7, or a 6.

Sorry, Kevin, but this is outrageous. We lost 33-5. I'd give us a 1, but only for cuteness.

The best player was A.J. because he could hit and he could field.

A.J. can hit and can field, but we have no best players.

You because you hit that home run.

This part is also true. I did hit a home run (over the fence—hi, Mom.)

Yeah, I'd play with you guys again.

Deep down, Kevin—a cool 12-year-old—would rather be caught dead than on the field with a sorry ass softball team that can't even lose by less than 25 runs.