Kickball and kegs: Game graduates grade school

By Ray Brewer (contact)

Saturday, April 17, 2010 | 2:01 a.m.

Thirty-eight-year-old interior designer Carrie Anne Lewis is discovering that this isn’t the playground game she knew in grade school.

There’s that beer keg at second base, the half-blitzed teammates, costume nights and a widely attended postgame gathering at a nearby watering hole.

“I have never come here and not had a good time,” Lewis said. “Anyone can do this, even someone with no athletic ability. It’s more about meeting people, being social and making new friends.”

Welcome to big-kids kickball.

The immensely popular game on elementary school playgrounds has been reinvented by the World Adult Kickball Association and is being played in a growing number of parks across the country.

Lewis and about 335 other players gather Wednesday nights at Desert Breeze Soccer Complex in southwest Las Vegas, indulging in the sports version of happy hour. Unlike softball or bowling leagues, which often are more competitive, an evening of kickball features more socializing — and drinking — than score card checking.

Lewis, for instance, couldn’t tell you how many games her team won during the fall season, but proudly brags about how they were recipients of the league’s sportsmanship award.

In other words, they were all about making sure everyone enjoyed the social scene surrounding the games.

The kickball association has leagues in 41 states and the United Kingdom, and started its Las Vegas league three years ago. Seasons, which are typically in the fall and spring, last 10 weeks.

Players pay a $65 entry fee, comforted that a portion goes to the league’s party budget for two postgame open-bar nights during the season. The league last fall helped send two children with cancer to a rehabilitation camp.

Players range in age (starting at 21), background, athletic ability and physical shape. But they generally have one thing in common: a passion for their Wednesday night social.

“It’s just a big party out there,” said Lindsay Hool, who organizes the local league. “This is more social recreation. You get to meet as many people as possible. It’s just a fun league with fun people.”

Participation has more than doubled since being launched locally, attracting everyone from the middle-age housewife to the business professional.

“I always tell my mom that this is the best thing I have done for myself in a while,” said Melissa Stern, a 33-year-old who works in medical insurance billing.

The game, which is similar to other base sports in theory, involves little strategy. But it does take a minor adjustment when it comes to kicking the league’s rubber ball, which is 10 inches in diameter and weighs a few pounds.

When the red ball rolls in from the pitcher — spinning and bouncing at a faster pace than when you played on the schoolyard — it is surely inviting to an inexperienced player whose eyes light up with thoughts of a powerful swing of the leg sending the ball onto Durango Drive.

That was the case Wednesday, the initial night of the spring season, with several looking to clear the bases.

But, unlike softball where home runs are a key to the game, the long ball is a nonfactor in kickball.

Try to kick the ball far and it will likely fly high into the air for an easy out. It helps level the playing field and turns the art of bunting into a specialty, with a team’s best defender typically playing catcher to throw out someone attempting to bunt.

Each game is one hour, or five innings, and played with 11 fielders ­— it’s a coed activity, requiring at least four male and female players manning positions in the field. Some teams have rosters with as many as 20-plus players, all of whom are dressed in league-provided shirts.

Most wear soccer cleats and come dressed in athletic gear. And everyone seemingly has a beer or other adult beverage in hand.

Players mingle with the opposing team and sometimes wander off to talk with friends playing in other kickball games. Some become so engrossed in conversation that they fail to take their position on the field or their place in the kicking order.

It’s a Sunday picnic disguised as an athletic contest.

“Everyone wants to have fun, and when you are winning you are having fun,” said John Barry, 31, an art gallery manager, who was one of the few who knew — or seemed to care about — the score of his opening-night game.

The league coordinates with the Clark County Recreation Department for permits to allow alcohol at the park, Hool said. It’s not uncommon to find someone doing a keg stand in the middle of the field in between innings or standing in the field with a beer can.

“The alcohol makes it more interesting,” said Miguel Escobar, 30. “For me, it takes away the nerve when you are up to (kick).”

More importantly, the adult beverages help create the party atmosphere the league strives for. Its motto: “Best Parties. Best Friends. Best Games.”

“I have alcohol-induced athleticism,” Lewis joked. “The alcohol makes you outrageously faster.”