I didn’t expect her to start me off with the hammer. But when it came I swear I saw it so well it was the size of a cantaloupe. I’m gonna drive that ball 400’ and I can’t miss.
Yet, I do. Fell right off the damned table and fooled me.
Trying again, I thought she’d throw another deuce. I was right. But this one looked like it was going to hang. My eyes, and the ball, got big. I was ready for it to break on me late but not that much. Fooled again. Swing and a miss.
Now I’m in the hole, 0 and 2. Another deuce? Maybe heat? She’s fooled me twice, she wouldn’t a third time, would she? I bear down and shorten up on the bat.
She winds, kicks, and delivers. She is deliberate and disciplined, methodical in her approach and has inexplicable volumes of experience. She fires a vapor-ball toward the plate. Coming in chest high, I pull the trigger. Yes! Heat! THIS I can hit, I think. I got this. Say goodbye to Mr. Rawlings.
Man, I swung and missed so hard I made the Mighty Casey look like Tinkerbell tiptoeing through the tulips.
She didn’t come with the heat. It was a slider. The bleeping thing broke on me and I left a three-foot hole in the batters box.
Boys and girls, lemme tell you, when Mother Nature is on the bump, she’s got some filthy stuff.
Or, in other words …
I had tickets to last Thursday and Saturday’s Somerset Patriot baseball games. I also had a ticket for Monday’s Thunder game in Trenton. For weeks, I was elated at the prospect of my three-games-in-five-days schedule. Iowa ain’t got nuthin’ on Bridgewater and Trenton. THIS is Heaven.
Well, by the fourth inning of Thursday’s Patriots game, rain gave reason to pull the tarp. I waited 45 minutes then went home. I thought they would call it off. “I have tickets to two more games,” I told myself. “Not a worry.”
Wrong.Mother Nature threw me a curve and put a stop to the rain. Shortly after settling in at home I received an alert on my phone tells me the tarp is coming off. Patriots and Bees will resume play at 9:25 p.m. Kyle Roller proceeds to hit not one, but two home runs, driving in four and the Patriots win 5-1.
Strike one on me.
Saturday comes and my Stacy joins me. The rains move in an hour before they holler Play Ball! Tonight could go either way. I told Stace “let’s not bother. You will have a lousy time in the rain. I’m the baseball nerd here. I live for this stuff. Not you,” I say.
She won’t hear of it. “C’mon, Patrick. Let’s go,” she says. “Let’s give it a shot.”
I love this woman more every day. You’ve no idea.
We go to TD Bank Ballpark and with a delayed start get there by the first pitch. It starts to look good.
We get to our seats, watch an inning or two in and it starts to mist. We can handle it. Then it drizzles. We are toughing it out. Then it rains and it is time for funnel cake. 1,600 calories a bite, we waddle back to our seat and the rain lets up.
Rats. I spoke to soon. Here it comes again.
We admit to ourselves and each other it’s time to go. It wasn’t going to let up. On our drive home Patriots announcer Marc Schwartz told his listeners they’re reaching for the tarp. About an hour later, it was called.
Monday’s forecast did not look too bad. Not overly promising, but not bad. I felt good about my chances. Hell, I even bought a Trenton Thunder umbrella with clear panels to see through just in case it is just a passing shower. As a matter of fact, as she reads this very post, Stacy is also learning for the first time that I bought a Trenton Thunder umbrella – for $25.00 – even though I had another umbrella in the car at the time . 🙂
The evening started with beautiful weather. Mild, slight breeze and zero humidity and – dare I say it – sunshine.
Then, of course, BECAUSE I WAS AT THE FLIPPING GAME, Mother Nature had different plans.
In the middle of the fourth, the sky behind the stadium grew black. The Umps called time and said get the tarp. Within seconds it poured. There was thunder, lightning, and water teaming from the heavens. A deluge of rain fell on the Thunder faithful racing toward the concourse. As time went on and the umpires decided what to do, I grabbed a beer and kept my eyes open for an Ark.
The battery on my cell was dead so I could not look at the radar. I resorted to prayer, pleading it will pass through. I kept the faith. Damn it, I’m getting at least one game in this week!
It didn’t stop. The umpires gave it an hour and threw up their hands. Game postponed.
I suppose if you were to look at the bright side of this story it would be (a) I got to go to the ballpark three times (b) If you add up all the innings I did see, it’s almost like a full game (c) I had funnel cake and (d) I can use the tickets from the rainouts for another game. It’s like getting free baseball!
But, that might be you. I don’t.
Far as I’m concerned, I would have rather Mother Nature drill me in the ribs than miss three baseball games.