A Night at the Ballpark

Wednesday morning is here already.  This has been an interesting week.  My desk is a disaster area.  I am not used to having a desk that is in such a state of disarray.  I have piles of unfinished work and projects that are in holding patterns until more information comes due.  I have major decisions that have to be made that require additional study. 

But in the midst of the seriousness of the day I took some time last night to attend a major league baseball game at Chase Field in downtown Phoenix.  It was an encounter between the Los Angeles Dodgers (my team of choice) and the Arizona Diamondbacks (the local team who were already playoff-bound).  It was a game for the ages.  Actually it ended in the 10^th inning in a fashion that has only taken place four times in the entire history of major league baseball. 

The names are secondary, but suffice it to say that the Dodgers had scored five runs in the top of the 10^th inning and held a six to one run advantage heading into the bottom of the 10^th inning (the equivalent of overtime for the non-initiated).  I would say 99% of the time if you go into the bottom of the 10^th inning with a six run lead, you are going to win.  But that’s not all…it gets better.

 The first two outs took place in quick succession.  The Diamondbacks were down to their last out.  I would venture to guess that over 99.9% of the time you will lose a game if you are behind by five runs in the bottom of the 10^th inning with two out and nobody on base!  As a Dodger fan I was enjoying the moment with my Diamondback friend who had provided the tickets.  Most of the Diamondback fans had gone home by this time.  The ones that remained were present out of some misplaced sense of loyalty, but they were resigned to the inevitable loss.  What happened next is almost surreal.  I enjoyed every minute of it…seriously, if for no other reason than to see the change that took over my friend as the events developed.

In brief, a combination of walks, hits, and a critical failure by the Dodger pitcher to cover first base on what would have been the third and final out of the game led to two runs scored by the Diamondbacks and a bases loaded situation with the batter representing the winning run.  I had even kidded with my friend earlier that “hope springs eternal.”  He thought I was mocking him and made some snide remark about my insincerity.  One pitch to the “Tatman” (a moniker for one of the Diamondback player with an abundance of tattoos), however, and the game was over.  Just like that! 

A “walk-off” grand slam in the bottom of the 10^th inning—it was amazing!  The stadium erupted as if three times the number of people were there.  My friend was all smiles and was hollering like a kid.  I could do nothing but go around a “high-five” previously downcast Arizona fans that were now in various stages of celebration.  I am sure I will hear about it again.

In any case, I got home late.  My mother called me on the cell phone to ask where I was and when I was coming home.  I told her I was on the road and would be home shortly (aren’t I a good son?).  Thankfully I was already on the road when I took her call.  Of course I forgot to take my Dodger hat off upon my return and my mom quickly seized the moment to ask me if it was sunny outside—my mom has fine-tuned sarcastic side.  At least she didn’t lecture me on the evils of young boys staying out on the streets during the wee hours of the night…well, at least not until this morning over breakfast.  Oh, well….