Boy, was I mistaken.

Not only is softball as strategic and technical as America's pastime, but it succeeds where baseball leaves off. The occasional molasses-like pall that baseball's critics harp on is forgone in softball, with little down-time in between plays encouraged by both umpires and coaches alike. But the ramped-up speed doesn't stop there: Because the field is so small, plays can happen quicker than you can say "Buzz Bissinger is an ass."

The girlfriend's team won that game handily, mercy-ruling their unfortunate opponents and eventually finding themselves hosting the state final in Corvallis, Oregon. The aluminum seats were blistering under the seats of the couple thousand fans, and the all-dirt infield looked no different, singeing the ball as it skidded along the scorched earth. Extra innings proved the girls' downfall, but the excitement, determination, and grit these girls displayed was in no way lessened.

Softball has been oft-maligned as a niche sport, lacking the necessary exposure to take off like the International Lacrosse League or Funny Car racing. The Olympic boost the sport received last decade catapulted the sport toward the legitimacy it desired, and a Dream Team of Lisa Fernandez and Jennie Finch helped the US gain three straight golds from 1996-2004. But like Bryan Singer with the X-Men films, the Olympics abandoned softball just as the sport was prepared to make that final leap into the stratosphere. While baseball got the ax in similar fashion, there's no doubt that the game will thrive under the reign of Bud Selig (please, try to stifle that laugh).

Softball, on the other hand, needs the Olympics almost as badly as Skip Bayless needs to contract laryngitis. Without this national stage, softball could end up the way of the passenger pigeon or the Cleveland Spiders. And if softball's extinction came to pass, the Baltimore Chop, one of the most electrifying plays a diamond could ever hold, would be no more.