The reason? Some people are terrified of clowns. Some people are terrified of snakes. I'm terrified of Friars. I have Friarphobia: the fear of friars.

I just couldn't bear to see any team named after the dreaded Friar anywhere in the NWLA Top 50 Rankings.

This fear runs very deep. I still can't watch anything to do with Robin Hood because of Friar Tuck. Then years ago I was in a wiffleball tournament, things were going great until we met a team in the semi-finals called Reservoir Friars. I was scared shitless. Most of them had that dome bald spot on top with the combed down surrounding it. Intimidating to say the least.

If this team wasn't scary enough, their manager was constantly on his cell phone talking to (God?) while leaning on a sword (It was real). Who the hell brings a sword to a wiffleball game?

Everytime I came to bat, that no good robed bohemian kept pointing his sword at me mumbling something in Latin. I took two years of Latin in school and I had no clue what he was saying.

Once I threw a curveball that hit one of the friar hitter's obscenely large wooden crosses around his neck. I mean this curveball was definately going to hit the strikezone if it didn't hit his cross. I started to argue, but stopped when their 5 foot 350 pound manager slowly got up from the bench with his Medieval sword in hand. I screamed, "You're right it was a ball." He made the sign of the cross and smiled. Needless to say, we lost 12-0. We were humilated by these sandal wearers.

I thought I would never run into another friar again. I was wrong. Two years later, I played in a small wiffleball league that unbeknowst to me, had a player who was dressed up like a friar. What were the chances of this happening?

We were scheduled to face this team with the Friar guy four times during the season. There was no way, I was showing up, so I made up every excuse in the book to avoid playing them that day. I didn't care if I had to miss wiffleball games to do so. Luckily, I had four other teammates who were able to get by without me.

That was until that fateful July 8, 2002 day. I got a call, two of my teammates (our number 1 and number 2 pitchers) won't be able to play the next day because they're going to the MLB All-Star game in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. My other two teammates can't pitch. So that left me. We were playing the team with the Friar the next day.

Fast forward to the next day. In a weird state of anxiety, I ended walking the Friar for the first five times he was up. There were many "pitches" that didn't end up reaching the plate. I'll admit, my fear was taking control of me.

It was bottom of the sixth inning, the score was 2 to 2. The bases were loaded and there were two outs.

Next batter? You got it. The friar. I asked for a timeout and talked to my teammates. I was about to ask for a pitching change. Then one of them says, "Hey isn't that the girl who you've had a huge crush on since the sixth grade standing next to the fence watching the game?" He was right. It was Wanda. I did have a huge crush on her. Maybe I can overcome my fears and impress her by winning this game and asking her out for the first time.

So I got back on the mound. I look at Wanda. She was actually looking right back at me. Boy, did I love her. Talk about a fairy book ending.I knew what I had to do to win the girl. I threw my best pitch: a blazing riser to the plate.

The next thing I knew, the friar jacked a game winning grand slam off me (photo above is the actual swing *). I couldn't believe it. The friar then mocked me by doing a slow jog around the bases while pointing his finger over and over again at me. I just dropped to my knees and put my head down. It seemed like an eternity. When I finally lifted my head up, my two teammates already took off (they could have at least said goodbye) and Wanda was gone too. Well, I thought she was gone because she wasn't at the fence anymore. I was wrong. She was now getting inside a gorgeous red convertible corvette with the friar.A friar driving a sports car? Charitable my ass! (Ed Note: What this article is basically saying is: Josh will not be allowed near the NWLA team rankings again).