Among some real swingers

Runners at second and third, two outs. It’s coed softball night and I’m playing third base -- crouched, glove down, ready to scoop up any grounder hit my way. Final inning. If it’s all for fun, why am I so jittery? The answer lies in a web of complex, tangled emotions that cut to my very core: a dire need to -- dare I say it? -- impress the chicks.

They’re not easily impressed. Many play as good or better than the guys, making them a hot commodity. Anyone who’s ever played coed softball knows the importance of finding women who can, for example, hit. And by hit, I don’t mean infield pop-ups. I’m talking about screaming line drives. Coed softball rules state that every other batter has to be female, so the girls bat often. You find a woman who can get up there and slap singles all over the place, you’ve got yourself a real prize.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve hit a ton of easy pop-ups in my time. The women really look down on this, I suspect. They may not show it, but inside they’re wondering how I’ll ever fix a leaky bathroom sink if I can’t even get on base.

Not only is my softball league coed, it’s also slow pitch -- meaning a 3-year-old could make contact. Strikeouts are rare and usually accompanied by an embarrassed look generally reserved for sprinting to the dugout after the second out of an inning. Even I don’t strike out, unless you include the time I asked an attractive opposing pitcher if she might want to spend some “extra innings” with me over drinks. She declined, citing her current fling with the center fielder (a gentleman who, by the looks of his arms, could no doubt hit for power).

Actually, hitting’s relatively simple. You swing, you connect, you run. Fielding? That’s another story. Fielding requires intelligence, determination and a concerted effort to stop thinking about how you have to buy dog food on the way home from the game. Rest assured, playing the field correctly is no picnic, except for Ben Affleck, who makes it look effortless.

Things to consider when you’re out in the field: Who’s on base? How many outs? How many cute girls are watching? Hitting’s done with muscle; fielding takes finesse. Small wonder I excel at neither. A hint: Try to impress the gals with your strategy expertise. Know where to stand to make the perfect cut-off throw. I have no idea how to do this, but at least try to fake it. Women adore a shortstop who can take a throw from the outfield, pivot and fire a strike to home plate. They realize a man who can pull that off could no doubt rewire the entire electrical system in a three-bedroom home and still have time left over to paint the nursery.

So there are two outs, two on, with the game on the line. The field littered with potential future girlfriends. It’s crunch time. The time when pros like Alex Rodriguez and myself take their games to the next level. In other words, I’m hoping the ball’s hit somewhere else.

But here it comes, a scorching ground ball up the third-base line. I begin the only prayer I can remember -- unfortunately, it has to do with lighting Hanukkah candles. I move to my right and somehow knock the ball down. Panicking, I chase it, grab it, get set and fire to first base. But the ball’s not going to first base. It’s going toward first base, but it’s low and in the dirt. Our attractive first basewoman? Let’s just say she’s in a league of her own.

I wince and prepare for a chorus of groans. But she saves me. She digs it out of the dirt, turning my potential bonehead play into the game-winning out. Not a bad quality in a mate, especially since we’re all capable of making more than a few errors along the way. Relationships are, after all, the ultimate test of teamwork.

“Nice throw, Scooter,” she says impishly.

“I was just testing you,” I say. “But thanks for making me look good in front of the fans.”

My charm and her glove work. Now there’s a double-play combination.

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Howard Leff can be reached at weekend@latimes.com.