B.J. Upton, a player I’ve been known to badmouth, has really stepped up lately, and his performance tonight shut me up.  His three-run home run won the game, and Sean Rodriguez’s long ball gave the game good momentum early.  I had until recently been dismayed by the way the Rays had been leaving so many runners on base, and how their bats had been quiet, but these recent games show them improving in that regard.  Good ball tonight!

I am visiting friends in south Florida for a couple days this week, and while we enjoyed a relaxing dip in the pool last night, Matt Garza pitched the first no hitter in Tampa Bay Rays history against Detroit, and I missed it.  Judging from history, they’ll have several no hitters and two perfect games thrown against them before a Rays pitcher has another such performance.

We arrived early, and parked in a distant, but cheap, parking lot.  We had to walk five blocks or so, but we saved at least ten dollars, and avoided all the post-game traffic.  We bought tickets at the park this time, and for two extra dollars each, the tickets included lunch.  The folks in the box office must have really been pushing the right field bleachers, because our seats–in Row GG, Section 142–were cramped.  When the end of the second inning rolled around, we opted not to try and squeeze our way back through the crowd, and instead moved to an emptier part of the park, above the Rays’ bullpen.  Those were much better seats.

The game itself got off to a troubling start.  Cleveland scored three runs in the top of the first.  But the Rays came back, and were ahead by the time Wheeler took over for Niemann.  Regrettably, Wheeler blew the lead, and the game stayed tied into extra innings.  The Rays had ample opportunities to go ahead, but they left more than a dozen guys on base through the course of the game.  Finally, in the bottom of the tenth, Bartlett hit a ball into deep right-center field, sending the winning run home.  The Cleveland outfielders didn’t even bother to pick up the ball; they just turned around and walked off the field.  My Dad and I left happy.

Later, I saw that we were on TV: once when we were in our outfield seats, and several times when the cameras focused across the infield.

All in all, a wonderful day halfway through the Summer of Baseball.

The same foolish impulse that animates the men who snatch baseballs from from one another in the stands, and the boys who race each other from section to section in greedy anticipation, is the same one that prompts fans to interfere with balls in play.  The infamous Steve Bartman incident is the best known, but others occur almost daily, with fans reaching over walls, gloves in hand, to scoop up fair balls.

This obsession reached its logical climax in Arlington last night, when a fan at Rangers Park tumbled from the upper deck to the stands below.  He had been reaching for a foul ball and lost his balance.  He dropped thirty feet onto fans below.  Fans in the park screamed when they saw it happen.  The home plate umpire threw his hands over his head in horror.  The television announcers were similarly terrified.  The game was halted for fifteen minutes, and many players were visibly distressed, with several of the Cleveland fielders clearly mouthing prayers.

Everyone loves a souvenir.  But is a $16 baseball really worth all that?

Curiously enough, the Summer of Baseball actually began last winter.  I started attending Florida Gators baseball games back in March.  At that time, it was dusk as the games were getting under way, and I needed to wear a jacket to keep from freezing in the bleachers.  Time sure flies, because the Gators played their last game of the season weeks ago in Omaha, losing to Florida State.  I had had high hopes for the team at the College World Series, particularly since they played so well all season, and pulled out some amazing wins.  But it wasn’t to be.

Still, I have tons of great memories to keep me until next season.  I’ll remember always getting in free with my student ID.  I’ll remember the “Bleacher Creatures” out in left field who psychologically tortured the opposing team: “Hey, center-fielder, look at the left-fielder; he sucks!”  I’ll remember the time that the mascot, Baseball Al, gave me a fist bump (or “terrorist fist jab”) during a Gators rally.  I’ll remember the Dollar Nights, and how I vowed to never eat a jumbo pretzel again.  I’ll remember the fans selected at random to (poorly) sing the chorus to “Take Me Out to the Ball Game”.  I’ll remember the time that some poor fan picked to play the Mystery Pizza Box Challenge chose to take the mystery box over the ten free pizzas and got a Tootsie Roll, then the next game another fan chose the ten free pizzas, and the mystery box contained a new HDTV.  I’ll remember how the girl who tosses out the free t-shirts following innings with double plays or home runs never tried to throw the t-shirts more than about three feet from where she was standing at the time.  I’ll remember that even run-of-the-mill foul balls are frightening when they’re coming toward you and you aren’t wearing a glove.  I’ll remember the night that Marty and I looked up toward the lights behind us to see what appeared to be a plague of locusts.  I’ll remember the astonishing NCAA Super Regional series against the Miami Hurricanes, where a bizarre electrical storm threatened to postpone the first game, and a jaw-dropping seven errors cost Miami the second game.  (My favorite joke of the game: “You can’t spell ‘Miami’ without an ‘E’”.)  I’ll remember singing “We Are the Boys from Old Florida”.

I’ll remember the many great wins, and the very few losses.  And, of course, I’ll remember some great plays and players, including my favorite, center-fielder Matt den Dekker, who is off to join the Hated Mets.  I’m glad for him.

And I am glad for myself, for getting to spend so many nights enjoying our national pastime.

UPDATE: A day after the tragically bad call by Jim Joyce, he stood on the field in Detroit, visibly weeping, and shook Armando Galarraga’s hand.  Joyce is clearly distraught about his mistake – obviously more upset than Galarraga himself, who has handled this ordeal with tremendous class.

Meanwhile, on mlb.com, Hal Bodley makes a considered, but ultimately illogical defense of Bud Selig’s decision to not interfere with the outcome of the game.  Bodley admits that his first reaction was to demand that Joyce’s call be overturned.  But, he writes, “had Selig taken the easy way out he would have established a precedent that could have come back to haunt him and the sport. Years from now, that decision would be an integral part of his legacy”.

True, overturning the call would be unusual, and it would go against the perfectly imperfect nature of baseball, in which human error is sometimes a part of the game, but umpires’ decisions are final.  But where Bodley loses me is in his correct assertion that this call will lead to expanded use of instant replay.  What I wonder is this: if Joyce’s call leads to more instant replay, which will inevitably lead to other umpires’ calls being overturned, what’s the point of not just reversing this decision right now?

That said, if someone makes performance-enhancing drugs for writers, the authors of the aforementioned article might want to look into it.  Consider the following paragraph:

Landis provided detailed information about his own doping practices, saying he consistently used the blood-booster EPO to increase his endurance, testosterone, human growth hormone and blood transfusions.

I am surprised that the big league New York Times editors didn’t spot the blunder.  Had they taken Professor McCrea’s Advanced Exposition course, they would know that the last item in a series should always be the longest.  As it stands, the sentence seems to say that EPO increased Landis’ endurance and testosterone.  Here’s how the sentence ought to look:

Landis provided detailed information about his own doping practices, saying he consistently used testosterone, blood transfusions, human growth hormone, and the blood-booster EPO to increase his endurance.

Even that, however, might not be enough, since one might now infer that all those items contributed to Landis’s increased endurance, when, in fact, only EPO was responsible.  I would take the last element in that series and write it like this:

…and the blood booster EPO, which increases endurance.

That’s better.