Monday, April 5, 2010

The Bores of Summer

Know what?  I'm something of a fairweather fan.

I went to the Cubs-Diamondbacks game at Chase Field in Phoenix on Friday and found that I couldn't care less who wins after all.

In theory, I'm a Cubs fan through and through.  We lived in Chicago from 1967 to 1976, both our sons were born at the Edgewater Hospital right there in the city of Chicago, delivered by the good Dr. Eli Bernick while he was wearing his yarmulke. At least he was wearing his yarmulke when Brad was born since it was during the high holy days, and much of what I consider my best education was received there.

Not specifically in the delivery room, mind you, but in Chicago.  I did learn a lot about pain, panic, suffering and humiliation in the delivery room, however, but that's another story for a long, wintery night when people can't leave.

Anyway, there we were at Chase Field, a beautiful park that has a lid that will roll back to reveal the sky like the top on a sardine can. Everything was perfect except that the prices on the food were crazy high and they were serving Diet Pepsi.  Lotsa lights and the Jumbotron made me crazy with ADD and delight.  It was wonderful.

But the game began and, and though as usual I expected better, it was boring like most every other game I've ever seen.  It wasn't until after the seventh inning stretch that anything happened.  Ben said it was a pitcher's duel.  I say it was a dud of a game.  I should have hauled my Kindle out of my purse but I would have been mocked, I know.  Brad, in fact, was mocking me on my IPhone saying I probably didn't know who was playing.  I knew who was playing.  I just didn't care.  He also recalled to me I read a book at football games.  I don't remember that, but probably I did if I attended football at all.  Football lasts forever.

I also thought the players' uniforms looked cheap.  Ben explained they were the pre-season uniforms.  They're pros!  I say they can afford better uniforms for pre-season too.

But then the hits started coming.  It started getting good.  I loved every crack o' the bat.  I didn't care who got them.  There was even a home run.  And I cheered for every one.  The people who loved the Backs that I'd developed a cheesy rivalry with looked at me like I'd gone nuts until they got the drift.  I was there for the action.  I tried to explain that I appreciated skill regardless of where it came from, but they saw through that, I know.

The D-backs won 5 to 3 and I thank them for every run.   Pitcher's duel, my behind.  I say we should get our money back for that kinda game.  That's no game, that's catch.  No one likes to watch that.  They just pretend they do.

Incidentally, That's Susie, Ben's friend in the picture with Ben, who is fearlessly sporting his Cubs shirt.  He is a plucky lad.  He was born in Chicago.