Four teams are going to the playoffs this year, and the Sultans now sit in the fourth spot (of about 10 teams). After losing their first two games by 20-run margins, the team has rebounded to 4-3, moving over .500 this week with a 12-5 win over the USAT IT Department. The win moves us into fourth and sends USAT IT down to fifth. But with their 3-3 record now, they're still in contention. A loss for us and a win for them next week would give them their spot back.

Our last game is Tuesday night against the paper's Dead Trees team. I need to get my swing back in order after reaching on a fielder's choice and popping out last week. We need the win.

A win — the week before last. Zero chances in right-right field, but two-for-four from the plate with a double and two RBIs. A loss — last week. A throwing error and a catch in the outfield, but another OK day at the plate. Not many outfield hits, but speed making up for it some. This is the first season I've tried batting lefty the whole time, so I've been happy with it. Outfield … it's an adventure every time with the depth stuff, but has gone a little better than last year. No crashing into the fence yet.

The Sultans lost again on Thursday, this time to a Freddie Mac team, 26-6. They didn't have the power hitting of the Diamond Dogs, but they made good contact in every at bat and were sharp in the field. I was 1-1 atthe plate again, but again was out in a fielder's choice at second. Have to get to second as fast as I'm getting to first. In the field, left field, I misplayed one ball — their first at bat of the game — and caught another. Next up, the paper people, team name unknown.

We lost 22-3 to the hated Diamond Dogs. I hit the cutoff well from my spot in right-center field, but I managed to misplay all of those balls before eventually getting them in my glove. Depth perception, not so hot. Glasses didn't help.

At the plate, I singled in my lone at bat, my first try at batting left-handed this season. So that was good. But in our next at bat, I didn't dig hard enough going into second and got forced out. Must dig harder.

The Sultans of Dot lost its semifinal game tonight against Sports Weekly, 14-6, ending the Dots' season. We held them to 3-2 early on, but they exploded for a nine-run inning and held it.

Except for that inning, we played a good game. We hit the ball hard and hustled on the basepaths, but their four outfielders were everywhere they needed to be. In their big inning, they beat us with flat-out power. One of their guys had three homeruns, two over the fence.

My glasses had some success too. Wearing them for the second straight game, and getting no chances in the last game, I caught my first ball in the outfield all season. Ran back, ran forward, ran back, ran forward, caught it. They didn't work out so well with the other ball I got, a grounder. It slipped from my glove, and looking down quickly to find it wasn't what the long-range lenses were built to do. So, lost that ball. But I was happy with the catch. At the plate, I continued some of the improvement I've had this season. Got on base a couple times, scored a run.

The game ended with one of your players charging from third, throwing a bat out of his way, sliding into home, and getting tagged out in a close play. And that was a good way to close the season. All summer long, we tossed those bats and kept moving.

The Sultans of Dot won their second game of the season Monday, a 13-4 playoff romp over the IT department. Despite having only eight players, the last-seeded Dots used a hit brigade and slick second baseman-less fielding to knock off the quarterfinals' top seed. IT had only lost one game during the regular season. Until last night, that game was our one win. But on to the semis we went.

When I got my Virginia driver's license a few weeks ago, I failed the entire left side of the vision test. Overall, I passed by one letter. But that left side, I leaned into the viewer and stared and squinted and readjusted and pressed my forehead harder against the eye chart activator, and I couldn't read a single letter. Blurry as could be.

My opthamologist had previously established that I had some vision issues. Despite rocking a 20/13 in the early '90s, I was 20/30 and 20/40 (left and right, or right and left, respectively, not sure which) when I first got glasses my sophomore year of college. The boards in Tech lecture halls had become a little hard to read from the cheap seats. The glasses helped for distance reading and night driving. They supposedly helped in movie theaters as well, but Hollywood ended the idea of words in movies around or before that point in time. (I assumed. It was never an issue.)

So, sometime in the following six years, things got worse. The woman at the DMV counter was glad that things weren't one letter worse than they were. That would have complicated both our afternoons.

The dismal viewing did explain a lot. Missing fly balls and crashing into fences, most obviously, but also finding street signs and the TV Guide Channel harder to read.

My six-year-old glasses, which reside in my car's center console, did well when I tested them post-DMV, but they should've probably done better. My softball team's organizer suggested I give them a try in our playoff game tonight. I agreed, even if it put me in too rarefied company. ESPN.com's Uni Watch recently estimated (see bottom of page) that only seven active major league ballplayers wore glasses or goggles regularly.

Whatever the outcome of tonight's test, I decided last week to go back to the opthamologist. Sometime. I was really proud of that 20/13. That time was early high school, after all my family and friends seemed to have gotten glasses. But Virginia took the last of my sightly pride. The state nearly gave me restrictions, the last resort of Patrick Henry-originating, Confederate History Month-celebrating, red-light camera-outlawing government. It must have been serious.

Tonight's softball game was going pretty well until I crashed face-first into the outfield fence. We were only down by a few runs against our rivals, the other dot-com softball team, with plenty more of the office in the stands. I was hitting the ball. I hadn't misplayed any balls in left-center. And then I ran face-first into the outfield fence.

I was playing deep against the hitter, who'd already had a home run and a triple. he then hit the ball well again, sending me backing up quickly and — realizing the ball would go over my head — spinning around counterclock-wise as the right-center fielder yelled it was catchable and I thought it was too as I went face-first into the outfield fence. Nose, chin, right shoulder, knees, knuckles, and the fence bounced back, as good Long metal fences do, toppling me over backward and onto the grass.

I wouldn't exactly call it a crash at full sprint, because I had just finished turning around. But it was certainly the fastest I'd ever run into a fence without expecting the fence to be where it was.

I sat there for a few seconds. It was the most surprised I'd been all year, in sports or otherwise. I'd guessed I had 6-8 feet, maybe 10. Apparently not. The ball went over the fence for another home run, so at least it wasn't an error. But our shortstop compared me to a Slinky, and I figured that was about right.

A lightning storm ran through the area last night, but the Sultans of Dot beat it to the softball field. Unfortunately, Sports Weekly beat all of us. Tossing some back-spinning pitches and knocking our pitches over our heads, they won something like 20-4. The game ended the warmest day in a string of hot ones, and the sun briefly disappearing was the highlight.

I was two-for-two, both run-scoring singles, but misplayed every one of the four balls hit to me in right-center. Didn't hit the cutoff man, came up short on a fly, had a ball bounce out of my glove, and let a grounder bounce by to my right. Not good.

So, we ensured we'd have nowhere to go but up. Our lone practice last week showed us to be a notch above last year's mayhem, so one rough game didn't get me worried.

I watched the lightning storm from my apartment, and it was a late spring classic. The rain was strong enough to gray out the rest of the neighborhood for a while, even the behemoth buildings down by Iwo Jima. As the storm moved south, the lightning got more vague and shadowy until it stopped. The temperature didn't drop much afterward, at least before I went to bed, staying humid. That trick seemed like summer.

Where have I been? I think work, RFK Stadium and possibly bed. Let us begin the glorious month of June. It's hot outside, and I work no earlier than 7 a.m. the rest of the month. The Sultans of Dot begin their season tonight. It is not March.