Child’s Play

Despite its team concept, kickball was a rite of elementary school passage that separated the Coulds from the Could Nots.

You either could kick a big, red rubber ball rolling and bouncing toward your feet -- or you could not. You could either field the same squishy ball and then wind up to obliterate a kicker with a smack that stung not only the point of impact, but the psyche, too. Or, you could not.

No matter which classification you fell under then, you have another chance to play kickball in a league with about 100 other local adults every Wednesday night.

"It's one of those games that no matter how good or bad you are, it's fun to play," says Lee Gorlin, the division president for NV Lucky, one of two adult kickball leagues in Las Vegas.

It's a recent Wednesday, and he stands on a grassy field at Desert Breeze Park's soccer complex, preparing to start the new season. Around him are dozens of tiny children kicking their soccer balls and working on fundamentals, unfazed by the scene unfolding.

Wearing blue shirts, yellow shirts, red, purple or green shirts, the adults arrive, all of them with varying degrees of experience when it comes to kicking that red rubber ball around. They carry towels, chairs, water, wine, beer and Bengay.

"I haven't played since elementary school," says Miguel Escobar, 28, a first-time player for Gold Memberz. They wear yellow shirts and reign as defending champions. For their opening game, they play Brews on First, who wear red. "It sounded like a lot of fun."

Gorlin got involved with the league after he moved to Las Vegas and couldn't find anything fun to do. During an online search, he found WAKA, the World Adult Kickball Association, and made arrangements to join the league, which plays its games at Desert Breeze. A second league, NV Silver, is based in the southeast part of the valley, with members playing their games at Paradise Park. Both leagues started in 2007.

"It was just an easy way to meet people," Gorlin says.

As much as players say they enjoy kickball, most admit they're doing it for the socializing. And to drink.

Shucks Tavern and Oyster Bar sponsors the NV Lucky league. After games, the teams assemble there for a post-game analysis and even more sport: a friendly game of Flip the Cup. It's a drinking game that involves flipping cups and drinking liquor.

"Sometimes, that can be as competitive as the kickball games," says Lindsey Heim, co-captain for the team Last Year's Champs.

There's a lot of nostalgia associated with kickball, Heim says, explaining the appeal for adults. It's something that doesn't require much skill, unlike other team sports.

"Who can't play kickball?" she asks. Heim was a Could when she was in grade school.

Out of all the league members, the Could Nots don't seem to be represented, on any team. No one owns up to kickball issues in elementary school, although most remember the humiliation of others.

Hitting people with the rubber ball, which makes a distinctive thwacking sound that can echo for years in a kid's memory? That's a hallmark of the game.

"It's not an unappealing thing," Corey Roth, 27, pitcher for Gold Memberz, says of tagging players. He describes himself as an all-around athletic guy who likes kickball because it's fun.

There are rules to the game: No hitting runners above the shoulders. Games take five innings and feature softball-like rules with strikes, balls, fouls and outs. A minimum of 11 people make up a team. Members from other teams act as referees.

The $65 fee is inexpensive compared to other sports, too, says Dave Gorman, 27.

Gorman, a multitasker on the field, looks like a sculpture of a man, tall and muscular. He's definitely the kind of guy you wouldn't want to see on the opponent's side during any athletic endeavor.

But size or strength doesn't matter in this game, says John Barry, co-captain of Last Year's Champs, who referees the game between Gold Memberz and Brews on First.

"You've got to have directional ability to kick," he explains.

Kickball seems harmless, says Barry, but it can make even athletic adults look clumsy and feel inadequate.

During the fourth inning, Brews on First player Cyrus Sherafat kicks the ball and, as two players from the Gold Memberz make a play for it, they run into each other. Sherafat is safe on base.

"This is all for fun," Barry says.

Until a kicker decides to bunt. That's what separates the purists from the recreational players.

A Gold Memberz kicker bunts the ball and Brews on First players let him know exactly what they think, in words that can't be printed in a family newspaper.

"It's kickball. Bunting is for third-graders!" yells Kim Behrendt, a member of the Brews on First.

"Bunting is a strategy. It's frowned upon by some," explains Barry.

As Brews on First go up to kick again, another player, Amy Dorson, asks her teammates, "So should I bunt?"

Behrendt reiterates her views on bunting: "I think that's for wimps."

"I don't know, he's a really good pitcher. I think I might have a better chance of getting on base if I bunt," Dorson says.

She kicks instead, and the ball arcs cleanly through the air and lands right in the pitcher's arms.

Brews on First lose the game, but it doesn't matter. They have a double-header and need to run over to the other field, where the team Drinkers with a Kickball Problem awaits.

The Gold Memberz gather on the sideline for an all-in cheer, just before adjourning to the bar.

"One, two, three," they count. "Jack Daniels!"

A team member shrugs. "We're spirited."

Contact reporter Sonya Padgett at spadgett@reviewjournal.com or 702-380-4564.