Ok, here it is. I am fascinated, FASCINATED by Tim Lincecum. I recently watched him pitch in relief for the Giants in game four of the NLCS playoffs. When he pitches, I cannot take my eyes off of him. It's crazy. Something about the mechanics of his pitching, the expression on his face, just rivets me to the screen -- even when he's doing badly (his doing badly against the Dodgers should be enjoyment enough, but still I can't look at anything else going on besides his pitching). I was profoundly disappointed that he wasn't pitching when we attended the game at AT&T Park last month, though I did see him pitch (badly) at Dodger Stadium once this year. What is it about baseball and baseball players that generates this much interest in me?
My salsero friend, Joel, tells me that baseball is boring, and that the Dodgers start out every season by doing well and then they finish by losing. He taunts me about my team. And, I have to admit that, lately, this is true. And this year in a BMW (big major way). They got all of our hopes way up and then took a quarter-of-a-billion dollar freefall at the end of the season. It was pathetic. Still.
Lydia invited me to the game, on October 2nd, which was when they lost the wild card race. It was an evening I will always remember. My friend, Christopher, was also there and through his connections to an event at Dodger Stadium, we got to get onto the field before the game. A novel and heady experience for us both. I took a few photos, then froze when I saw the dugout start to fill. Andre Ethier, who for many seasons we have called TCO for the cute one (seriously, even Billy has occasionally called him that in the spirit of not beating us but joining us) started out to the field. Lydia froze not. She whipped her phone around and snapped this:
which got me unbelievably excited. So that when I saw Kemp sitting in the dugout I demanded that she take his picture, take his picture! She snapped again, then snapped at me Why don't you take it? But she is better at this than me. We work well this way with she as cameraperson, and me as the director. And I will prove it:
We were, of course, disappointed that the Dodgers didn't battle back that night, but it wasn't meant to be. And even if the Dodgers had won, they wouldn't have captured the wild card. It's a magic number thing, and don't expect me to explain it. The St. Louis Cardinals went on to win the following night, and that would have knocked us out regardless. That is baseball. You can be winning through the entire game up until the last inning; even down to the last pitch and the last out, and you can still lose. That happened to the Washington Nationals this past Friday night, and it was heartbreaking -- even though I didn't have a dog in that fight. It is so hard to see those players' faces after a stunning loss like that. Shell-shocked.
Baseball has been very, very good to me this year, even though the Dodgers took that slide. It riveted my attention away from my problems. For the first time in my life, I even paid attention to stats, checking them each night before I went to bed. It was fun, and I will miss it, though I'm happy to have it to look forward to next spring.
Last year, Lyd and I went to one of the first games of the season. When she first stepped into Dodger Stadium, she took a deep breath and said to me I'm here. It was said in a tone that conveyed that she was back home. I know that feeling. I used to feel it when we arrived in Kona. I feel it when I see the first cypress trees as I am coming in to Monterey County. And I expect I will feel it when I first set foot in Dodger Stadium next season. So, on the second to the last day of the regular season, we bid farewell to Dodger Stadium until next year. And, by the way Giants -- just wait until next year . . .
Thank you for reading my blog. Go Dodgers (in 2013)!
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