A softball's homage to the lost soul

Unbelievable for the strength of a man over 60, the white rubber on the surface of the sphere was smacked with a bat, numbing the cork at the core of my body, as I scattered the dirt of the infield between third and shortstop, bouncing along. It seemed a moment promised for a journey to left field. The shortstop's glove approached, but there was distance from me. Just when I thought nothing would interfere with my journey, the speed at which that glove approached suddenly increased, and just as I thought it's closing in from the shortest angle, everything in front of me turned pitch black. The old man at shortstop made a diving catch, sealing my momentum within the familiar smell of cowhide.

“Let's avoid dangerous plays that could lead to injuries, we're not young anymore. We're playing senior softball for the fun of it and to stay healthy.” I would say that to any other member. But I know it wouldn't make sense to this shortstop old man. Even the teammates refrain from commenting on his bold moves, understanding that each person decides how to enjoy softball for themselves. It's also known that this old man's passion for playing softball is deeply linked to a  personal attachment to his past experiences with winter mountaineering.

The reason he originally took up winter mountaineering was because the girl he was dating at the time loved the mountains and  invited him to climb together. Yukiko was rich in winter mountaineering experience and had both the physical stamina and technique, making her a trustworthy partner. The emotional aftermath of their first climb of a relatively low mountain using unfamiliar crampons and ice axes wasn't just an experience that ended with the satisfaction felt at the summit. The fiery warmth of Yukiko's body after they descended spread to him as well, leading to a fervent devouring of each other, a mutual conquest that didn't cease until they were thoroughly consumed. The joy of sharing experiences that flirted with danger, transmitting and amplifying it deep within each other's bodies, was the beginning of a whirlwind journey into the pursuit of pleasure rooted in codependency.

Their quest for dizzying pleasure had already started before their ventures into winter mountaineering began. A whirlwind of adventure-seeking and carnal desires converged within them, fueling a curiosity to discover what lay at their junction. Eager to satisfy a craving  to drive a wedge into her mind's bedrock until eruptions from the wellspring of sensuality ensued, Yukiko crafted a scenario where his phallic ice ax, heated and hardened, would melt away the earth's snow upon impact as swiftly as it was struck, urging him to perform it alongside her. In this exchange, they become both the slave and master of each other's primal urges, engaging in a dance where they rob and enrich one another with utmost joy. They conceive and act out scenes in which the roles of sexual dominion and submission change constantly, delving wholeheartedly into acts of pleasure that integrate sensory stimulation with such intensity that it makes the prey, constrained and struggling, wish to be wholly dominated by the predator from the core. The prey, contesting domination, responds to the aggressor's desire for conquest through choreography, articulating the ecstasy and tremors of flesh with every muscle, even as it resists with a reliance on embarrassment, amidst the pleasure's assault on its body. To elevate the choreography of gasps and writhes, stimulation is applied to the prey's nipples concurrently with the wedge driven in, amplifying the sensual cascade from the dual stimuli, tightening the grip further. The prey strives to extract all that can be squeezed from this tightening, yet remains an unquenchable fiend of sensuality. A dominator lacking the resolve to be entirely drained along with his wedge recoils at the unfathomable depth of the sensual ghoul’s abyss, begging for mercy with tender kisses. Encouraged by the prey's impassioned pleas for more intense nipple torment and its wistful gaze desiring even deeper sensations, the dominator sheds both past regrets and future worries, concentrating solely on fulfilling the prey's immediate instinctual desires. Through a diligent and lengthy exploration of the prey's erogenous roots and unlocking the fountain of sensuality hidden within, they reach a climax where the pleasures of submission and domination within each counteract, welcoming a moment of peak intensity. In this climax, avalanches triggered in their minds resonate together, merging into a greater avalanche that carries them beyond their control, propelling them towards an unforeseen destination with unstoppable force.

Whether the rigor of winter mountaineering propelled their dizzying quest for pleasure, or their pursuit of ever higher qualities of pleasure led them to seek dangerous heights, it had become irrelevant to them. The thrill of their journey was predicated on safely descending the mountains, so they consciously avoided climbs that were too challenging for their abilities. However, they couldn't suppress the burgeoning spirit of adventure whispering "more, more," urging them into the unknown.

Each new conquest completed together honed their awareness of life's fragility — how, amidst nature's ferocity, human life could be as delicate as a leaf, easily blown away. This realization, filtered through the lens of their ephemeral experiences, deepened the flavor of their coffee, as if each sip might be their last before being engulfed by a real avalanche. They found themselves in a realm where only the hotness of coffee, like the tears of melting candles seeping into the earth's passionate core, could trigger the internal avalanches they craved. Their bodies had evolved to seek this edge of danger for arousal. Marked by a quest for exhilarating highs and transformed into seekers of extreme encounters, venturing into the arms of nature's fury became their unique way to flick the switch of excitement.

The craving to revive the sensation of flipping the switch for an internal avalanche didn't take long to lead them into trials. After summiting their targeted mountain on a two-night, three-day climbing expedition and starting their descent, they were caught in a fierce blizzard that reduced visibility to merely a few meters. Misinterpreting a trail sign in the blinding storm, they realized too late that they had deviated from the proper descent path, having already made significant progress downwards.

Climbing back to where they had mistakenly diverged was the safest course of action. Yet, even for those with energy to spare, the prospect of retracing their steps demanded a type of determination and mental strength that only those who have willingly preferred the harder route in the presence of easier alternatives could muster. Wanting to escape the weight of that decision, they gambled on the chance that continuing forward, now that the blizzard had eased, might somehow lead them back to their original route. Moreover, the budding premonition in both of their hearts that this experience might finally trigger the coveted mental avalanche hastened their steps, eager to descend as quickly as possible to see if their intuition was correct. With their emotions running high, they pressed on as far as they could until the blizzard made it clear they could go no further, prompting them to pitch their tent and spend the night.

Their hopes for tomorrow were shattered by the approach of a worst-case scenario: a double low-pressure system. The blizzard intensified, and their tent, anchored to the ground with stakes, was blown away by gusting winds, along with all their belongings vanishing in an instant. Exposed to the -10°C cold, their body heat began to be sapped away. Before their gloves froze and they lost sensation in their hands and feet, they managed to dig out a snow cave with their ice axes. Inside, they rubbed each other's bodies to share warmth and offered encouragement, but Yukiko became delirious. "A seagull is perching on a cat's back, oh, the cat started running. The seagull on its back is now in the air."

"Hang in there, Yukiko. The seagull is flying freely in the sky, just like us. We're going to flap our wings together and make it down safely."

The intensity of his tears, flowing from the regret of being unable to restore the warmth once present in Yukiko's now chilled body, exceeded the heat of candle tears that seep into the sensual bedrock, burning him from within. He chastised himself for lacking the mindset of a monk who willingly values hardship over comfort. If only he had decisively chosen to retrace their steps upon realizing they were lost, if only he had been able to convincingly persuade her to act on that decision, perhaps they could have avoided this disaster. It was a foregone conclusion that a mere pretender to monkhood, unaccustomed to the weight of such decisions, would falter under the burden. Like strength training, it's the cumulative effect of daily discipline that matters.

Choosing stairs over an inviting elevator, even when fatigued; walking short distances instead of seeking convenience; opting for a bicycle over a car for longer ones—these are the practices that build true resilience. Eventually, one learns to discern whether an easier path is a temptation toward laziness or a genuine act of compassion for oneself. The relentless, sometimes overwhelming effort of aligning the imagined with the physical, through countless small adjustments, leads to monumental achievements, akin to reaching a record-breaking number of season hits of 262.

He believes in the power of habits that naturally strengthen us. He talks about joining peers who, despite differing goals, share the same routines, immersing oneself in the camaraderie that comes with it. For him, softball—a team sport—seems especially suited for the man who has once been blinded by a blizzard of sensuality in his younger years. The relatively confined defensive positions in softball restrain reckless adventurousness, while the trust placed in each player to fulfill their responsibilities within those limits lightens the burden of making the leap on one's own.

His teammates tease him, saying he's like a penguin trying to fly like a seagull. To which he responds, "It's okay, all I have to do is dive belly-first." He finds joy in the possibility of catching a fish in his beak during such a dive, seeing it as a lucky moment. But more than that, he appreciates the continuous test of courage to take the plunge. He believes that the more he manages to make sliding catches, the more likely it is to bring joy to Yukiko.

Within the confines of his leather glove, there's a scent that hints at more than just the material itself, leading me to ponder. The stories of their winter mountain misadventure that he has narrated—do they fully encapsulate his quest for redemption? I harbor doubts, as memories often have a way of rearranging themselves to fit our preferred narratives. Is it possible that upon realizing they were lost, it was actually Yukiko who initially decided they should return to where they mistakenly diverged, seeking his agreement, yet it was he who rejected the idea? Could their eventual perilous path, which singularly doomed her, have been unconsciously chosen under the influence of his innate urge to escape the eventual outcome of their adventure—a venture initially embarked upon to quench their shared craving for sensual extremities?

The journey to their misfortune may have seemed to them as an unexpected and inalterable destiny, yet it's conceivable that it was his subconscious inclinations that crafted the path leading to their stranding. Clearly articulating the mental state at that moment might be beyond even his own ability. Therefore, the following is purely speculative on my part.

Before Yukiko came into his life, he experienced considerable difficulty in achieving sexual release, unable to liberate his "tadpoles" without facing a challenging path to gratification. Whether it was due to insufficient arousal or lack of physical stimulation, he found himself  able to summon his tadpoles through the enslavement to his fantasies only during prone masturbation. The struggle to release his tadpoles back to their "homeland," even with a different woman, must have made him somewhat empathize with the plight of salmon returning to spawn. The habitual reliance on the intense stimulation of prone masturbation led to a desensitization to the natural stimuli and sensations of his "homeland," excessively confining his tadpoles. Facing this dilemma of seclusion, he was endeavoring to abandon the "pleasure" found in prone masturbation through celibacy when he encountered Yukiko.

In terms of reintegrating his "tadpoles" back into society, there was no woman more suited to the role than Yukiko. It wasn't that Yukiko's "Mother Earth" wielded a gravitational pull akin to a black hole, ensnaring his tadpoles. Instead, Yukiko was able to amplify even the slightest physical touch into a maelstrom of sexual fantasies within his mind, elevating his arousal levels like never before. Her expressions of sensuous agony and gestures of poignant endurance outshone any portrayal by actresses in adult films he had encountered. Regardless of the outward perception of their acts' depravity, she stood unflinching against the anxieties shadowing his sexual ventures, proving herself as the ideal partner willing to dive into the depths with him.

The serendipity of securing the perfect sexual partner was overshadowed by an unexpected turn from his long-standing battle with delayed ejaculation. The climax of his excitement often coincided with the brink of his fantasies becoming reality or the moment they did, leading to the early release of his "tadpoles. " This recurring event gradually diminished his intense longing to indulge in the actualization of these moments, an enthusiasm that Yukiko deeply valued. The task of either interrupting the untimely liberation of his tadpoles or controlling their resurgence was no small feat for someone as fundamentally awkward as him. Although Yukiko could logically comprehend his predicament, she found herself helpless in quelling the dissatisfaction festering within her as her sensual fervor ebbed away with each instance of what was deemed premature release. Yet for him, it was the beginning of a new chapter of maturity.

This underlying sexual strife, though never verbalized, insidiously deepened a chasm between their hearts. It's likely he was the first to acknowledge the pressing need to address this issue before resentment could burgeon from their mutual dependence on physical intimacy. He might have imagined a situation in which a brighter future was impossible unless either both or one of them continued their dance until death upon the tumultuous stage of a snowy mountain, caught in the relentless embrace of nature's vigorous spectacle. 

From a vision engulfed in utter darkness, as I regained brightness with a feeling of ascension, I, without sufficient rest, found myself being grasped with strength, only to then propel myself towards "Mother Earth," tracing a trajectory like that of a tadpole.