"'We know what it tastes like,' said Vermeulen, referring to victory." Fauxhemian kickball's back.

We thought that Williamsburg, Brooklyn's hipster kickball season was over after attending its corrupt end-of-season prom, where alcohol was served and a girl-kickballer in a tutu hit on our boyfriend. But they're still going! And they're still fightin'. Last Sunday's game included an "all-out brawl," with punch-throwing and tossed bottles of Colt 45—a beverage that even some homeless people think is beneath them. We e-mailed some kickballers to get the lowdown. One reply: "Omfg, I am totally appalled and offended. How does something so pure as alcohol and jr. high sports turn into something so ugly?"What happened? Says another kickballer,

Things end. People move on. The Brooklyn hipster kickball league has entertained us with their exploits all summer—fights, getting arrested in Macy's, letters to dive bars demanding a laminated free drinking pass. Now the season is over. Last Friday, they gathered in Greenpoint one last time for the Kickball Prom. We were there to create the memories that would last us the rest of our lives.OK, so I didn't do any reporting—or embed with a team, as was offered—because my heels were too high and my feet hurt. (When Clay Felker said that women make the best reporters, he meant that they make the best reporters if they are wearing sensible shoes.) But the New York Press did!

Many a trend piece has begun in and around Williamsburg's hip, multi-culti McCarren Park: the Times has been loving to point out what it means for the Way We Live Now, as well as fetishized its summer of rock shows in an empty pool. (Kids with dreads and tattoos!) But nothing has expressed the leisure activities and lifestyle choices of the creative slacker underclass as well as the rag-tag group of young creatives, hipsters, and drunks that make up the Brooklyn Kickball League. We've entertained you with their exploits all summer. And now, as fall approaches, the season is almost over. Yet what would the end of yet another kickball season be without one last fight?From a secret kickballer:

It's about time that the paper of record started covering the happenings in McCarren park, the ragged dirt patch that is home to the Brooklyn Hipster Kickball League, that den of sociological intrigue so ably chronicled by our own Sheila McClear. What with the legal drama and fundamental instances of human love associated with the hipster kickballers, it's no stretch to say that they are the demographic group most worthy of media coverage in NYC or anywhere else. But in an article today that is lightly reported to a comical degree, the Times attempts to deny the BHKL-ers their rightful place at the top of our minds!: As you would expect, the reporter starts off the article by telling you that she has been in Williamsburg for a decade-way before all these gentrifiers got here. But in her discussion of McCarren Park and the accompanying photo slide show, the kickballers receive only a passing mention in a photo caption! Instead, the reporter's single source for the story of the park's rich variety is a 64-year-old Ecuadorean hot dog vendor. What does she know about Bloc Party? Sheesh. [NYT. Note to hipsters: the last McCarren Pool Party is today and I walked by earlier, and there is no way you're getting into that motherfucker. Seriously, take up basketball instead.]

From one of our kickball moles: "bklyn kickball was fun [last night]. i actually overheard a rumor that someone from Gawker must be on one of the teams, how else could they always know so much. maybe there will be a witch hunt! everyone was talking about the macy's pirate arrestee, again. no fights in my games, just some good old fashioned arguing and yelling at the umps. the styro-beers from Turkey's Nest were delicious as always... now, it seems there's some people left out, and they're turning to other leagues (gasp!) and forming their own teams... i guess what's great about it is that these kids are turning to their own resources outside of this exclusive Brooklyn league. they're almost like dissidents. if this was Singapore, they'd be jailed." [Photo: Greg Straight Edge]

Aww! The weekly hipster kickball saga in Williamsburg is bringing people together, sort of. A sad Craigslist poster implores a certain cute with bangs to stop showing up on game days: "you're far too distracting." (Click to enlarge.)

In case you're not familiar, hundreds of hipsters gather every Sunday in Williamsburg to innocently have fun playing sports with their friends, drink beer, and act the fool. But sometimes often, fights break out—the Brooklyn Kickball league is infamous for penning overlong, entertaining letters. The Post informs us (since when are they on the kickball beat?) that last weekend, en route to his kickball game, yet another rogue hipster kickballer got in trouble. He was arrested!

Both Hamilton and myself walked by Williamsburg's McCarren Park at different times this Sunday, during the hours of Opening Day Part 2 of the hipster kickball league that's been causing so many dramatic fights and epic letters. Everything seemed under control. But you'll tell us if any scandals or noteworthy scuffles break out, won't you? Comments like this, especially: "[The Kickball commissioner] IS kind of awesome. He asked me to spit his own beer in his face just so I could show him exactly how the guy from [rogue team] Prison spit on me." There's an entire season ahead of us. I'm listening...

It's totally fun to point and laugh at Williamsburg as a post-collegiate paradise that takes kickball and Japanese sneakers way too seriously. However, keep in mind: when looking through these photos of last year's Brooklyn Kickball Dance, you may have the same realization I did: Damn, used to date that guy. Related: is the "Brooklyn Kickball" ankle tatto real?