A rare game recap after a very long night

Boy, that one was kind of fun. Just seeing the dejected look on the Chub$ fans' faces when Stormy managed to get that last out made staying up until 1:30 to watch the end worthwhile.

I admit, I like the Chub$. I wish they were in a different division than the Reds like they were back when retarded baseball geography had them in the East while Cincinnati was in the West. And there's a magic about Wrigley Field that sends joy to the soul. It's not like the team has ever been good or anything. [1908! 1908! 1908! I wish the Reds would have a 1908 day when the Chub$ come to town, because I am sick of GABp turning into Wrigley 3 during these series. Any time the Chub$ fans started to cheer, they could have the scoreboard operator flash 1908! 1908! 1908! so Reds fans can start mocking their losing tradition.] Mine is the WGN generation - I watched a lot of Chub$ games as a kid because they were always on after school. Plus I love the City of Chicago and well, the Cubbies are the heart of the Chicago organism.

That being said, I don't actually want them to win since that would mean the Reds have lost. And they are a large market team, and since the income gap between rich and poor teams has turned into a chasm, they are benefiting.

So I flip on the game last night at Central Time 7pm, and it was raining lightly. Then it was pouring. The old man was snoring. I had yet to realize that I wouldn't be doing much of that myself over the course of the night. The Banana Phone rings, and surprisingly, not a lot of typical bananaphoners called in, although Calvin got through, the "baseball guy" who can't pronounce the players' names correctly. He butchered Guardado's name, which led Marty to say, "I'm going to take a stab at which player you're talking about." Still no game. Lightening and thunder reign over Wrigley. We're sent back to stations, where some WLW guy who doesn't understand baseball was fielding more calls. Dumb answers. Waiting for game, waiting...I go to cook dinner - fresh tomatoes from the garden, spinach, oregano, basil, some olive oil, red pepper flakes, black pepper, a dash of cinnamon, a bit of onion, simmered over the stove and poured over rice. Did some laundry. Came back. Still no game.

Suddenly, a hideous version of the National Anthem comes over the airwaves, and Norris Hopper bunts his way on for a basehit. It was 9:35 EST. I had a feeling it was going to be a strange game. Reds got the first two on against Ted Lilly, who was trying to win his 14th game, but they couldn't get them around to score. Rookie Phil Dumatrait (pronounced Dum MA tray) looked bad from the beginning but managed to get out of the first without giving up a run.

Second inning Ryan "replacement catcher for DL'd Ross" Jorgensen comes to the plate with two outs and a walked Dunn, who had made a very heads up baserunning play in tagging and going to second on a fly to center, standing on second. Jorgensen has all of four Major League plate appearances in his lifetime and a .220 AAA average with 2 homers this year. So what better way to defy the odds and get your first Major League hit than to send a bomb into the leftfield seats, where you know you're gonna get to keep the ball because Chub$ fans throw it back? Unfortunately, Phil "Can't get head out of ass" Dumatrait proceeds to give up a bunch of doubles and with them, the two run lead. Reds down 3-2.

It just got wild from there. Cincinnati scored four runs on a three run homer from Jeff "I'm not done yet" Conine, then Dumatrait walked a couple and was replaced by No Victory Santos, who walked the next two before deciding that wasn't a productive way to blow the lead. So he gave up some hits instead, allowing two more Chub$ runners (or, more precisely, walkers) to score. But he didn't blow the lead, so he decided to give up a homer to Ramirez in the next inning and another to Kendall in the fifth, giving a solid three run lead to Ted Lilly and the Chub$ (doesn't that sound like the name of a rock band?) Lilly had settled down after giving up the six runs, but he had thrown like a million pitches and was replaced by Michael "I hate October" Wuertz in the sixth. Thanks, Lou, for that. Dunn hit his 31st off Wuertz in the sixth, and the Reds added two more to tie it at nine.

Then, a weird thing happened.

The Reds' pen shut the Chub$ down. Billy Bray was awesome in the 6th and the 7th, Jared Burton threw gas in the 8th, and Stormy closed it out. After a night of horrendous pitching, suddenly, it became brilliant, and I think we caught a glimpse of the future in those last innings. A very near future.

Speaking of the future, after the morons at MLB.TV kept the commercial screen on for two outs of the top of the eighth and Hobbs' first two strikes, it flipped back on just in time for Wonderbat to connect with the ball, sending it sailing through the Chicago night sky into the leftfield seats, a pinch hit home run and an 11-9 lead. Jorgensen had preceded the homer with his second hit of what had to be the night of his life.

There are some things about baseball - the smile on Jorgensen's face as he was rounding the bases on his homer, a guy making the most of what will probably be a short time in the Majors and enjoying every last drop of it, for instance - that make it such a joyful game. Especially when you win!

And here's the thing: the Reds were supposed to lose this game. It's obvious that Dumatrait doesn't know what he's doing out there, and the Chub$ had a thirteen game winner on the mound. Yet the team pulled it out. The team has played .568 ball since that fateful July 2.

If only Krivsky would have fired Narron sooner...