For the past seven years, Stations 7 and 11 have played each other after the regular season to win yearlong ownership of a garbage can lid. To the untrained eye, Station 7’s regular season record – one win in two seasons – might indicate a certain lack of skill, or “will to win.” Those in the know, however, realize that 7 saves everything it’s got for the far more important “Can Game”.

As the game began, Station 11’s team, full of themselves and strutting like peacocks, sauntered out to the field expecting a routine crushing of the underdog – but things began to unravel almost immediately. Blinded by false pride, they lost track of 7’s towering moon shots and allowed runs to score with almost every swing of the bat. Jerry Heffernan used his stress unit skills to lull 11’s outfielders into a state of peaceful well being, leaving them completely unprepared for his line drive to right. Double agent Art Kenney pitched lightning fastballs past 11’s hitters, while lobbing beach balls across the plate for Station 7.

After many innings of this drubbing, a final blow was needed to break 11’s will to live. As if on cue, Tony Rivera stepped up to the plate. His frighteningly fashionable attire and well-coifed doo struck terror into the hearts of his opponents, but two quick strikes put him on the defensive. As the third pitch came across the plate, he made his move. The swing was badly timed, but by a stroke of luck the ball glanced off one of his four pinky rings and flew over the shortstop’s head. 11 could stand no more, and players adjourned to Cotter’s Corner, with Station 7 the proud owner of the coveted can.

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