The Girls of Summer

The Dancing Nancies remember well that evening in 2005.

The weather was turning severe, and the game was in doubt. But they were going to finish things.

Oh, yes. That was not a question in their minds. When the kickball game ended, and they had emerged victorious, it was a singular feeling -- literally.

"It was glorious," Dancing Nancies organizer and player Renee Ruka said.

That was the final game of their first season. As the Nancies prepare for season three -- Tuesday nights at Bryn Mawr Meadows in Minneapolis, with the first game on May 8 -- it remains their only victory ever. And they don't really care.

"We try really, really hard," teammate Kate Engstrom said. Added Jada Hansen: "It's still kickball. It's still a blast."

And besides ... "This year," Ruka said, "we're bound to be competitive."

We could have picked any number of sports, as Lord knows the options seem to grow every year. Staples like softball, basketball and soccer have been joined by the likes of ultimate Frisbee and dodgeball, among many others. (What's the next craze? Pillow fighting leagues. Trust us. They're out there, and they're coming here.)

But we chose the kickballin' Dancing Nancies for a simple reason: They embody everything that is right about rec sports. They go all out. They bring out the best in other teams, and even when they lose they do a congratulatory cheer for their opponent. They're eternally optimistic. They are in it to win it, but they are OK with losing as long as everyone has a good time. L

ife is competitive enough without turning a once-a-week kickball game into a mortal struggle. Kick back. Bring a dog. Wear a prom dress. Have a beverage or two. That's how the Dancing Nancies roll.

The Nancies are all women, and most of them are lesbians. In order to play in the normally coed Minneapolis Park & Recreation Board league, which requires an alternating male-female lineup, they petitioned the Park Board to let them organize by gender identities. Instead of man-woman, they go butch-femme. With an argument like that, how could the board resist?

They have ridiculously funny alter-egos printed on the backs of specially designed T-shirts (a new design each year). Engstrom is Katie Rocket, Hansen is Lazer Falcon (with the "F" backwards), Jaime Reynal O'Connor is Penetrant, Lindsey Dodge is Dutchess Nutless, and Ruka is Flossie Pillows.

"Oh, that's a great story," she said.

Ruka used to work at a call center at a bank, and one day she got into a serious conversation with a caller -- an older woman with a thick New York accent. They talked for an hour, and Ruka was so moved by their discussion that she sent the woman a card. She will never forget that woman's name: Flossie M. Pillows.

These Nancies are characters -- the kind you might normally have one of on a team to keep the mood loose. Imagine, then, an entire team full of them. They came together rather organically: Ruka read an article about kickball, decided it was "the coolest idea ever" and mobilized a squad. While some faces have changed, much of the core is still intact. There are 16 players this year -- plus a fan club that made Dancing Nancies foam fingers.

Players range in age from the mid-20s to the mid-30s. Some played competitive sports in college; for others, kickball is their foray into team sports. Their positions aren't always determined, though Hansen usually handles the pitching.

"I kind of throw a tantrum if I don't get to pitch," she said.

Ruka, for instance, kicked the ball once, then got so excited that she slipped on home plate.

"I literally flipped in the air and landed on my ass," she said.

Engstrom then reminds her of the time she kicked a can of PBR while running from second to third base.

"It shouldn't have been there," Ruka counters.

Outside the game, it gets even better. The post-game dance-off. The '80s prom night, when even the umpire played along and wore a tuxedo. Ruka wore a hideous dress, which others eventually agreed was "totally Mallory Keaton."

Ah, don't go there. Kickball is a must.

"Playing kickball is invigorating," Reynal O'Connor said.

"You end up drinking a lot," said Hansen, who thinks that Grain Belt Premium should become the team's official beer.

Because hope springs eternal, even if winning isn't everything.

"I'm severely optimistic," Ruka said of the upcoming season.

"But mostly it's really far," Ruka chimes in, and everyone laughs.

Because of the camaraderie. Because it gives them an excuse to hang out. Because it's fun. Because, well, who needs any other reasons?

"It brings you back to the good old days," Reynal O'Connor said.

And really, isn't that what recreational sports are all about?