7.17.02 ROCHESTER RED WINGS vs LOUISVILLE BATS
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What say we check in with the Red Wings, hm? Ah yes, still sucking. Losers
of six in a row, in fact, coming into tonight’s match-up with the former Louisville
RiverBats, shortened this year to the less fussy, just plain Bats. I approve.
The sooner minor league baseball rids itself of team names with capital letters
in the middle of them, the better.
I biked to Frontier tonight despite the 95-degree heat and stifling humidity,
partly to appease my conscience after having driven more than a thousand miles
over two days for something as frivolous as a couple of baseball games, partly
because ever since I finally got a bike a few weeks ago—the old-school,
full-fendered, skinny-tired, one-speed, coaster-brake kind for which I’d
been holding out these many years—I just don’t drive in Rochester
anymore. It’s gotten to where I actually feel bad that the Miata’s
just sitting there in the driveway. Its sole remaining mission now is trips
to Batavia. Longer than that, why beat yourself up? Take the Saab. Shorter
than that, hell, ride the bike. Sad.
Much of the game tonight I spent fleeing annoying children and their frequently
still more annoying parents, like the guy whose idea of funny was making up
lame middle names for various players as they were announced. Now batting,
Louisville left fielder, Jeff Frye. “Hey,” he says to his bored,
fidgety eight-year-old, “this guy’s middle name is French!”
Ugh. Now batting, first baseman, Kevin Witt. “I heard this guy’s
middle name is Dim!” Sorry, dude: Your middle name is dumb-ass, and I’m
outta here.
It was some solace when, late in the game, after Red Wings reliever Justin
Atchley was announced, one of the two African-American kids sitting next to
me said to his friend, “Atchley, I was thinkin’…” Funny.
Thank you.
The Wings got to Louisville starter David Gil early, with four singles, one
of them a beautifully executed hit-and-run by Mike Moriarty, and a couple
run-scoring sacrifice flies in the second, capped with a three-run homer courtesy
of designated hitter Chris Richard, in town to complete the extended re-hab
that’s kept him out of the Orioles’ line-up for most of the season.
It was at this point, after six runs were in, that the scoreboard operator
deemed it time to put up the “rally panther.” Methinks someone just
isn’t getting it.
Mike Drumright was strong for Rochester, allowing just a couple runs off five hits through seven innings, running his record for the season to 5–2, all the more impressive given how few games the Wings have been able to win. I’ll say it again: I don’t understand why this team is so goddamned awful. They should be winning like this every night. Or half of them, at least.
FINAL SCORE: RED WINGS 10, BATS 5
LIFE DURING WARTIME: It’s hard, listening to “God Bless America” for the umpteenth time this season, not to think of those unlucky morons in Afghanistan, squeezing off round after oblivious round into the air to celebrate a wedding. All’s I know is, it’s a good thing there aren’t any AC-130s patrolling the skies above East L.A. on New Year’s Eve. Oops! One more reason to just stay in.