Archives for posts with tag: Dodger
The 2nd night of a Supermoon Blue Moon coming up over a 6-3 Dodger win against the Mariners.

It was a beautiful sight at Dodger Stadium last night. We not only won after an 8th-inning 3-run bomb by pinch hitter Jason Heyward, but there were friends all around. Our Top Deck pals were there: Gilberto, Arlene, Liz and Darwin. I got to visit our Loge amigo Michael with his sister and her family. And my old Times buddy Carlos climbed up to the top row of the Top Deck to say hey. Not only that, but we got a great Teoscar Hernández Bobblehead to boot!

The only thing that bugged me was that the scoreboard operator is still an idiot. At the last game I went to (Aug. 10), I stopped by the Press Box to let someone know that whoever posts the pitch counts on the Right Field scoreboard has been getting it wrong the whole season. This “scorekeeper” counts the 4th ball of a walk as a strike. So, let’s say Evan Phillips walks the first batter he sees, his pitch count on the Right Field scoreboard will read “Total Pitches: 4 – Strikes: 1 – Balls: 3.” It doesn’t seem all that important, but when there are 4, 5, 6, even 8 walks in a game, the pitch count is completely out of whack!

For instance, last night, Walker Buehler allowed 3 walks, so when he left after the 4th inning, his pitch count in the stadium said “Total Pitches: 82 – Strikes: 53 – Balls 29,” when in actual fact, his stats were “Total Pitches: 82 – Strikes: 50 – Balls 32.” I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal, but accuracy is essential in baseball. For players, for pitchers, for broadcasters and for fanatical OCD fan scorekeepers, like me.

Anyway, at that Aug. 10 game, after I told some woman going into the press box about the problem, the pitch counts were accurate. I thought I had fixed the problem. But alas! The stupid scorekeeper must just have had the night off.

I miss real extra-inning games, god damn it!

I know I can’t be the only person to cherish my memories of Oct. 26 (& 27), 2018. I got to Dodger Stadium 3 hours early, waited for Game 3 of the Red Sox-Dodgers World Series to begin at 5:10 p.m., watched nearly 8 hours of baseball (that alone is glorious in the extreme), until Max Muncy hit a walk-off homer to break a 2-2 tie in the 18th inning!

It was after 1 a.m., and I walked home on Cloud Nine with Randy Newman ringing in my ears.

It’s not likely I would ever get a chance to experience the utter joy of that long trip to the ballpark a second time in my life. But knowing that MLB has sucked the life out of the game to the point that it isn’t even a vague possibility just breaks my heart.

Someone (I think it was my husband, who left that historic game in the 10th inning to get his beauty sleep) posted this cartoon on my FB page. It made me so nostalgic for real baseball, I’m sitting here with tears in my eyes.

Sure, I’ll watch in my Top Deck season seats, I’ll take score and buy hot dogs and listen to away games on the radio, but I know there are special radiant moments that can never happen again, like Clayton Kershaw hitting a home run and pitching a complete-game shutout on Opening Day; like Marlin Miguel Cabrera spoiling an intentional walk by knocking a limp pitch into centerfield to score the go-ahead run; and like singing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” after the top of the 14th inning in a game that seems like it will never end.

I still love baseball, but it’s not as resplendent as it once was, and it’s just weird that it’s by design.

The only bright spot of a miserable game!

I’ve got whiplash from the rollercoaster ride!

On Tuesday, 15 runs on 14 hits and 5 homers. Wednesday, we almost tied it at the last moment, but the rest of the game was deadsville. And then, last night, with two on and no outs in the 8th, the mighty Mookie struck out. Then the $700-million man struck out. Then “Freddie, Freddie, Freddie” struck out.

To compound the disappointment, in the 9th, after Teoscar Hernández eked out a walk and went to 2nd on a balk, Andy Pages had a full count and, you guessed it, struck out! Next, Jay-Hey saw 9 pitches before he too struck out. And the capper for the evening? Pinch-hitting Clutch Cargo, Will Smith, very feebly struck out, leaving Hernández stranded on 2nd while the Rangers celebrated winning the series.

To quote Kevin Kline in “A Fish Called Wanda,” “I’M DISAPPOINTED!”

MY SCORECARDS
Game 70: Rangers 3-Dodgers 1