Back in high school when my friends and I tried to find any way possible to establish male supremacy, we would regularly go to the batting cages.

While making the usual macho decision of whether I should wow everyone by hitting in either the ‘beginner’ or ‘intermediate’ cage, I would take the liberty to laugh at the kids lining up to hit in the “slow-pitch softball” cage.

What losers, I’d think to myself. Softball is for girls, my friend would say.

Yeah, and we’re not girls, we’d all echo.

Well fast forward four years, and here I am — a junior in college and co-captain of an Intramural softball team.

I offer no excuses. Not only is it softball, but it’s also a co-recreational league, meaning that at least half of the team must be comprised of females.

But aside from sliced bread, IM softball is the greatest thing ever thought up by anyone in this world.

It offers opportunities of all kinds to all types of people. In most cases, it’s a huge confidence booster.

First, there’s the athletic guy who’s good enough to play varsity at some Division II or Division III school. Maybe he’s on the club baseball team.

At any rate, he’s the most highly recruited softball player in IM history. He shows up, hits a few home runs, earns the adoration of all the females on the team, and goes home with soaring self-esteem.

Next, there’s the girl who has hidden athletic ability. All of her (mostly chauvinistic male) friends thinks that she has no coordination and is more suited for bringing brownies to the game rather than playing left field. Then she goes to the games, makes a spectacular catch, hits a few line-drive base hits, and goes home — also with soaring self-esteem.

Then there’s the third kind. The avid sports fan. The expert at watching sports. The ones who spend 20 hours a week on fantasy sports. The ones who spend time in lecture halls daydreaming about IM softball and dreaming about making the game-clinching catch.

Maybe they played in high school, and maybe they were actually good at it. But here they are on a co-rec IM softball team.

I am one of these athletes.

As a co-captain of my beloved “Homewreckers” (I didn’t think of the name), I spend my time in class debating on the tough questions. Who should pitch? Where should I place myself in the batting order? Is today finally going to be the day where I strike out?

And when I step onto the glorious dirt diamonds of Long Field, I step into a dream. My dream. I go up there with a Gary Sheffield-esque batting stance, furiously wiggling my bat in an attempt to intimidate the pitcher (usually a girl who’s probably thinking more about her upcoming physics midterm rather than how to pitch to me).

But it’s not all fun and games. Last week, I actually struck out (you can strike out on foul tips). And I’m going to do the honorable thing and bench myself next week.

I’m living the life here. It’s fun, I have a good time with friends and winning is just a bonus.

Just don’t tell any of my high school friends what I’m doing.

Columnist Sam Hong is a Weinberg junior. He can be reached at [email protected].