Rain! In June!
WTF. as the kids say. What the fuck, maaaaaaaaaaan... as Rojas would say.
So driving over, rain intermittently dripping on the windshield, and across the Bay Bridge (finally, where did all that traffic come from?) I made it to West Sunset. When I crested the staircase and saw people taking infield, I cringed. It didn't look like enough, and having spent an hour and 20 minutes getting there, I was not about to settle for....*choke-gasp*...batting practice.
Luckily Greg assured me that I made 15, and we most definitely had a game. Whew!
Noah and Tony started for the soggy bunch of stalwarts that made it out, and from jump street, it was painfully obvious that a. it was going to be a high scoring affair and b. the home team was going to be doing a lot of that scoring. Noah pitched his heart out, but he was not going to get 14 K's, which is what he needed, given the defense that unfolded. Now, we all know MBC defense is a curious, sometimes foul beast, and given the weather, a lot can be blamed on that. And Elvin.
The fact that we were slightly soggy and bummed that our game was understaffed and over-watered raised the irritation factor significantly and like any group of kindergartners, we needed an outlet for that irritation. Elvin proved worthy in that regard.
First off, Elvin is a great guy and even better sport for taking it on, hopefully he knows that all the jibing is in good fun. And we know he has the capacity to make good plays, as seen in Ed's recap of the SQ game. Elvin had the unfortunate luck of playing fill-in defense for the visitors, who needed every out they could get, and well...they didn't always get them. At first base, Elvin missed tagging the bag, or holding on to the ball...a few times. By the end of the game, ragging Elvin had taken precedence over the outcome and he was being blamed for the mortgage crisis, the Iraq war and the very weather that was bringing on our foul mood. He's a prince for not punching somebody.
By the second inning, it was 9-2 or something, and it got worse after that. Tony let Satch throw three, and Phelps got one. Noah eventually bowed out to Bob, who got threw three batters and called it quits, and brought in Greg, who pitched against his own team to end it since the visitors were out of pitchers. We ended the game, and surprisingly, no one wanted to play extra.
If you are reading this and you were there, take a moment to make sure you took your cleats out and dried them, cuz I didn't until last night. Not good.
* Rich had a fan club come out, and they were real troopers for sticking it out in the rain. He had a couple of relays/plays that could have been spectacular, well, his part of them was great, the receiving part didn't work out.
* McG hit from the left side, as a change. Elvin tried it too, and Noah threw behind him as a warning. Well deserved. I got hit when I tried that against Noah.
* The mud on the mound caked the cleats and made for some interesting pitches
* Richie almost had a great catch at the wall, on a hit from Rich, and then it just dropped right where the wall meets the ground.
* Will had an in-the-parker
* Greg played first with shin guards on, always a good look
* We kept a plastic bag on the back of the mound to protect the balls, we probably went through 30 of them
* In a particularly ugly inning, I hit a ground ball, and trotted, not ran, not jogged, with the hopes that the team could get an out. Bobble, bobble, throw, bounce, drop, pick and fall ensued. Aaaaaaaand I was safe. And guess who was filling in for the visitors at 1st?
* The rooster tails coming off the infield grass were pretty spectacular.
* Elvin also stole third with a 8 run lead. So all of the Elvin berating wasn't exactly unfounded.
* I threw a hell of a knuckleball to Rich for a second strike. Then K'd him on the high heat. His fan club left soon after. Sorry about that.
* I think the home team had about 8 at bats a piece.
* JT had this to report: "I'm pleased to report that I did NOT pull a hamstring when Powell decided to try to throw me out from left field.
Late in the game, Bob and I were sitting on the bench with Noah. Noah and Bob were comparing notes about the footing on the wet mound, and Noah delivered himself of the following Yogiesque gem:
"Yeah, there's a lot not to think about out there!"
Hope to see you all at the double header, sign up for what you are bringing on the google doc.