4.6.02 ROCHESTER RED WINGS vs SYRACUSE SKYCHIEFS
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Somewhat amusingly, Friday night’s game in Syracuse was called off on account
of “current and forecasted cold weather.” Uh, yeah.
Saturday brought bright blue skies and sparkling sunshine for the Red Wings’
home opener, though, and a game-time temperature of (drumroll, please) 35
degrees. That according to the display on the scoreboard, which I learned
last year tends to run a little hot. The thermometer in my car was reading
an even 32.
No matter though. I’d learned my lesson, and I was indeed dressed for minus.
And while the additional layer of shirts, nice bulky scarf, and cashmere/wool
sock combo were all probably good ideas, I suspect the major factor contributing
to today’s radically improved comfort coefficient was the presence of actual
sunshine. Makes a big difference.
And what a different scene it was today from the bleak, industrial, slightly
godforsaken atmosphere of P & C Stadium in Syracuse. I did my share of
griping last year about Frontier Field and its annoyances, but coming back
here for the first time in six months, I have to say, what stuck me most was
just how many things the folks here do right. The ballpark looked simply gorgeous,
and the opening ceremonies were a note-perfect combination of friendly, pomposity-free
civic boosterism (thank you, Mayor Johnson), post-9/11 solemnity (a long moment
of silence which, given the 8,000-plus people on hand, was indeed startlingly
silent, and actually rather moving), and sublime goofiness (the hilariously
butchered national anthem performed by esteemed native Rochesterian Lou Gramm—you
know, Foreigner?! “Hot Blooded”? “Juke Box Hero”?
Hell, who did the Dodgers have this year? Patti LaBelle or someone? L.A. got
nothin on Rochester!).
The whole spectacle was really quite impressive, and, as importantly, beautifully
suited to the scale of the event. I mean, it’s Triple-A. A stealth fighter
fly-by would somehow seem a bit presumptuous, as would a giant American flag
covering the whole outfield. But the tasteful thirty-footer held aloft by
a ring of local cops, firefighters and national guardsmen was perfectly appropriate,
and the half-minute or so worth of fireworks capped with the release of a
few hundred Red Wings red, black and gold balloons at the ceremony’s conclusion
seemed just about right. The smoke lingering above left field as the balloons
over right floated majestically into the bright blue April sky said it all:
It’s time to play ball, and thank God for that.
Twenty-two year old Aussie John Stephens (a combined 13–9 with a 2.51 ERA last year at Bowie and Rochester) started for the Wings and was lights out. His heater might only be good for 86 mph, but when you combine that with a drop-dead 63-mph change, which he did frequently, and to devastating effect, 86 is fast enough. Stephens struck out eight in seven scoreless innings, struck out the side in the fourth, and retired the last thirteen batters he faced in order. Offensively, first baseman Frankie Figueroa knocked in a couple of runs with doubles in the second and eighth, and designated hitter and former Minnesota Twin Chad Allen had a nice day for himself, with a triple and two singles in four at-bats. Relievers Sean Runyan and Lee Marshall preserved the shut-out for Stephens, and the first home-opener victory for the Red Wings in the five-year history of Frontier Field. Nice!
FINAL SCORE: RED WINGS
6, SKYCHIEFS 0
LIFE DURING WARTIME: They really played it beautifully. Everything seemed totally normal during the introductions, the Red Wings players jogging onto the field and taking their places along the first base line dressed in their usual white home jerseys. Afterwards, though, the teams retreated to their respective dugouts for the final pre-game preparations, which allowed for what Red Wings management doubtless regarded as the Opening Day pièce d’résistance. Moments later, to an audible collective gasp, the Red Wings took the field. In place of their usual white jerseys were new shirts, unmistakably branded with broad (four inches wide or so), wavy, alternating diagonal stripes of red and white. The sleeves, primary blue, punctuated with half-dollar-sized white stars. Oh my god. They wore ’em the whole game. Boys, we got a war to win, if only so that such a thing need never happen again.