A Baseball Story

Trying to look casual and failing, I glanced around me and followed my friend down to the seats in the 100 level of Miller Park. Generally speaking, you need tickets for seats in that area in order to access it; tickets we did not have. We shouldn't have been able to get near the stairwell without someone checking on us. In the bottom of the 14th inning, security relaxes a bit. Without bothering to check whether or not I was following him, my buddy sat in the last row of seats in the section nearest home plate, leaving the aisle seat open for me.

I dropped down next to him and observed the situation. From this perspective, Ryan Braun looked as big as life at the plate. Loudly, the baseball smacked into the catcher's glove, raising the count to three balls and no strikes. “Just walk him already,” I muttered. “Then Prince can hit a home run and we can all go home.”

What time was it in the bottom of the 14th inning on a Friday night? Or, at this point, Saturday morning? I had deliberately avoided observing the stadium clock for fear that knowing the time would make me feel tired. Now was not the time to alter that plan. My gaze remained focused on Braun as he watched Ball Four zip past him. We applauded as he took his base.

The Brewers and Rockies had been struggling back and forth throughout the game, keeping it interesting. While the Brewers couldn't get a commanding lead, they would tie the game promptly. The Rockies would score in the top of the inning, then the Brewers would lead off the bottom of the inning with a home run, that sort of thing. As a result, there wasn't much drama surrounding the concept of the Brewers tying the game, just if they could finally take the lead and win the game.

With one attention demanding crack, the baseball rocketed away from Prince Fielder's bat. Suddenly I was on my feet, watching as the ball bounced around the scarcely populated upper decks of Miller Parks. It was easily a fair ball and the home run that won the game for the Brewers.

For a moment, I just stood there, mouth agape. Surrounded by the cheering and the clapping and fireworks and celebrating, I was struck silent.  “Huh,” I finally muttered. “Whadya know?”

Then I joined in.