The other team is in two rows down on one knee facing each other, practicing throwing and snagging ground balls. Your team is in the parking lot drinking beer.
The other team’s catcher used to play semi-pro on the East Coast. Your team’s catcher has weak ankles, and a throw to second that takes longer than a flight from NYC to LA.
The other team has matching uniforms and real baseball shoes. The only thing consistent on your team are knee-high white athletic socks and shoes normally worn to paint the house.
The other team has three legit home run hitters. Your team’s top hitter’s only home runs this year were against a vegan club too weak to run down fly balls.
The other team arrives early to hit balls and talk strategy. Your team straggles in, checking their March Madness bets on their smartphone.
The other team has a hitting coach. Your team’s coach is hitting on the single women.
The other team has organized cheers and chants designed to demoralize the other team. Your team’s best cheer is “OK, look alive out there.”
The other team has top of the line bats and custom-made gloves. Your team member’s gloves were last used by their brother in his Little League 10 years ago.
The other team’s best runner slides hard face-first into the bases. Your best runner doesn’t slide for fear of inflaming an old groin injury from high school.
The other team has 150 people in the stands cheering them on. Your team has 3 dogs on leashes tied to the fence.