Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Joy in Mudville
They did it.
The streak is over. The corner is turned... for tonight, anyway. The books are balanced and all is right with the world.
Tonight, our girls scored their first softball victory.
Both the varsity and the JV teams won -- and though of course my primary concern was with the JV, I freely admit that the varsity game was the more exciting. It was won in the top of the seventh, with the bases loaded and two outs and a truly titanic struggle between pitcher and batter for the final out. I wish I'd taken notes. I wish I could reconstruct how we got to the 3-2 count, the foul after foul after foul until every stomach in the stadium was in knots, the final strike slapping into the catcher's mitt and the explosion of joy from families and friends who'd stuck with the team through the harsh, winless season. It was a hardfought game and it was a long time coming and victory was sweet.
Almost as sweet was the JV's win... though two things conspire to sap the JV's victory of some of its wonder:
For one thing, it's hard to deny that the opponent gave us more help than they gave themselves. The game was a see-saw through the first two innings, with first the opponent and then our girls and then our opponents again obtaining two-run leads... but all that ended in the bottom of the third, when the opponent's pitcher could throw no strikes. Walk after walk went out, first loading the bases and then bringing in two runs to tie... and then two more to go ahead 6-4. One of our girls was clocked in the helmet by an errant pitch; a scary moment, but emblematic of the opponent's pitching breakdown. Our girls held them scoreless in the top of the fourth, and the bad pitching continued in the bottom of the fourth, with two more unearned runs goosing our total to eight runs versus four.
And then the second sheen-tarnishing thing happened: The stadium lights went out. And because by this point it was pushing eight o'clock, and dark was falling hard, the game was called.
Now, I really don't think it made any difference except in the margin of victory: unless the opponent was warming up a fresh pitcher that was going to reverse their fortunes, that four-run lead finally looked solid to me. The way our girls were playing defense -- their normal stinginess with runs marred by occasional unforced errors, usually at the worst possible time -- I think they could have held the opponent to at most one or two more runs. Enough to scare but not enough to win. I think our girls were headed for victory no matter what.
But from what I was told by the other guys in the announcer's booth (more on that in a moment), NGMSAL rules state that a game can't be called before the bottom of the fifth. They expect a protest from the other team.
But doggone it, a win is a win is a win. And our girls won. They won and I was there to see it. (I'd actually started to think I was a jinx for them; I was dead sure that they would lose every game I attended and then win whichever one I missed first. I've seldom been so glad to be wrong.) Tomorrow Coach Johnston should be in a better mood than her usual post-game depression with its mask of humor. And the girls have the taste of victory to replace the ashes they've had so far this season.
Not only was I there, but I allowed myself to be persuaded to announce the game: my voice on the loudspeakers, announcing my kids -- welcome to Murray County softball, starting lineups, please rise for our national anthem, play ball. Leading off for the Lady Indians, number four... Two games' worth, and it bought my ticket and a hotdog for dinner. And there were wins for our girls. Higher pay there could not be.
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The streak is over. The corner is turned... for tonight, anyway. The books are balanced and all is right with the world.
Tonight, our girls scored their first softball victory.
Both the varsity and the JV teams won -- and though of course my primary concern was with the JV, I freely admit that the varsity game was the more exciting. It was won in the top of the seventh, with the bases loaded and two outs and a truly titanic struggle between pitcher and batter for the final out. I wish I'd taken notes. I wish I could reconstruct how we got to the 3-2 count, the foul after foul after foul until every stomach in the stadium was in knots, the final strike slapping into the catcher's mitt and the explosion of joy from families and friends who'd stuck with the team through the harsh, winless season. It was a hardfought game and it was a long time coming and victory was sweet.
Almost as sweet was the JV's win... though two things conspire to sap the JV's victory of some of its wonder:
For one thing, it's hard to deny that the opponent gave us more help than they gave themselves. The game was a see-saw through the first two innings, with first the opponent and then our girls and then our opponents again obtaining two-run leads... but all that ended in the bottom of the third, when the opponent's pitcher could throw no strikes. Walk after walk went out, first loading the bases and then bringing in two runs to tie... and then two more to go ahead 6-4. One of our girls was clocked in the helmet by an errant pitch; a scary moment, but emblematic of the opponent's pitching breakdown. Our girls held them scoreless in the top of the fourth, and the bad pitching continued in the bottom of the fourth, with two more unearned runs goosing our total to eight runs versus four.
And then the second sheen-tarnishing thing happened: The stadium lights went out. And because by this point it was pushing eight o'clock, and dark was falling hard, the game was called.
Now, I really don't think it made any difference except in the margin of victory: unless the opponent was warming up a fresh pitcher that was going to reverse their fortunes, that four-run lead finally looked solid to me. The way our girls were playing defense -- their normal stinginess with runs marred by occasional unforced errors, usually at the worst possible time -- I think they could have held the opponent to at most one or two more runs. Enough to scare but not enough to win. I think our girls were headed for victory no matter what.
But from what I was told by the other guys in the announcer's booth (more on that in a moment), NGMSAL rules state that a game can't be called before the bottom of the fifth. They expect a protest from the other team.
But doggone it, a win is a win is a win. And our girls won. They won and I was there to see it. (I'd actually started to think I was a jinx for them; I was dead sure that they would lose every game I attended and then win whichever one I missed first. I've seldom been so glad to be wrong.) Tomorrow Coach Johnston should be in a better mood than her usual post-game depression with its mask of humor. And the girls have the taste of victory to replace the ashes they've had so far this season.
Not only was I there, but I allowed myself to be persuaded to announce the game: my voice on the loudspeakers, announcing my kids -- welcome to Murray County softball, starting lineups, please rise for our national anthem, play ball. Leading off for the Lady Indians, number four... Two games' worth, and it bought my ticket and a hotdog for dinner. And there were wins for our girls. Higher pay there could not be.
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