Since Eric has been playing baseball for almost a whole season (well, spring to nearly September, thatís almost a season) and I havenít been to a single game, I took advantage of the lull in my real life and headed to Rohnert Park for todayís game. The reason I got there late wasnít that I was talking to David on the phone. It was because while I was talking to David I noticed a little frog hopping across my living room rug.
Lucky for me I was talking to David at the time, because he gave me the key to getting the frog out of the house without hurting it. I knew it wouldnít let me catch it, but he suggested throwing a kitchen towel over it and picking it up that way. After I got off the phone I found a towel and, sure enough, I was able to scoop up the frog and deposit it in the garden with no harm done.
The other reason I missed the first inning was the traffic maze that Rohnert Park seems to have become. Itís a straight shot down Stony Point Road from my house, and it should be an easy amble along Golf Course Drive to the ball field. But something must have been attracting people to town. I mean, something other than Wal-Mart, which I was prepared for. So as the game was starting I was creeping along the avenue with idiots in front of me and maniacs behind me.
It was fun watching live baseball for a change, even if the skill level was a little lower than the lowest minor league. Itís still higher than anything Iíve seen in person since the last time I was in a major league park more than a year ago. The ball still pops the catcherís mitt and line drives still streak into the outfield. Itís just that things move a little slower. There are great plays here and there, but there are also times when balls and bats seem to have a mind of their own.