Blessed Be Baseball (Part 3 of 3 posts about our Holy Day)

I didn't notice the rain.

Not at first, not when it was coming down on our parade, the one to celebrate our holy game. It was my first Findlay Market Parade, and the weather did not seem to deter anyone from enjoying the festivities. It wasn't until we left the parade for the ballpark did I notice how absolutely soaked I was.

The gates had just opened when we entered the park for the first of 162 games of the 2008 baseball season, but there was already a mad throng of people buzzing around the confines of the stadium, faces stuffed with hot dogs, livers swelled with the first beers of the new baseball year. We grabbed some Crud Lights and a program at the gate, our hands too full of beer and bags of extra clothing to fill out the various contest forms shoved under our noses from the get go. One woman seemed not too happy that I could not fill out a form, but has she ever seen a three handed person? I haven't.

The rain intensified as we moved inside that cathedral we call Great American Ballpark and navigated our way through the mass of people who clogged the arteries of the stadium. The tarp glowed under the passion of daylight that seemed so desperate to get through the gray skies, and it succeeded in intimidating away some of the gloom. But it was Reds baseball and the birth of a new season that did most of the work, and it was hard to put down our soaring spirits. The warmth helped in keeping away any misery that may have ruined this holy day.

Misery would have come had the game been cancelled. I think, though, Joe was up there trying to convince The Big Guy to turn off the faucet, because not only were we able to play the whole game, but we even got sunshine through the last three or four innings, much to the delight of the cheering crowd, which seemed to respond louder to the sun than to events on the field. The Reds' three hits - one of which was Harang's - left little to cheer about when the team had bats in their hands. Brandon Phillips' triple was the most exciting part of the game. Well, aside from it actually being that glorious thing called "Opening Day."

We plowed our way through the wall-to-wall people who were trying to take refuge from the dripping sky, and it was not at all pleasant, especially for someone who is 5'3" and a little claustrophobic in crowds. It was irritating, and at one point I nearly forgot there was baseball to be played - or perhaps I didn't think we'd get the game in - and started pushing my way through. Hey, they were the ones who were just standing in big groups in what was supposed to be a walkway. Is there no common sense left in America? Stand to the side, people, stand. to. the. side!

It didn't matter, though. Everything was beautiful, because it was our holy day, Opening Day, and even the cracks in the sidewalks seemed perfect! The tribute to Joe, with everyone coming out with Nuxhall 41s on their backs and then Harang wearing a Nuxhall jersey throughout the game, was a brilliant celebration of a good man departed. Hey, maybe the rain was Joe crying because he was so touched or because he wasn't next to Marty in the radio booth. I know I wasn't the only one with a tear in my eye. I was too far away to get any closeup photos, but you can see some good photos of the jerseys at Redleg Nation.

Here is the first pitch of the 2008 Cincinnati Reds baseball season. It was a strike, the first of many to be thrown by one of the best pitchers in baseball, who ended up striking out six in his six innings of work.

We had standing room only tix but found some unclaimed bleacher seats in leftfield and were able to sit there the whole game. I think I spent half the game trying to convince myself that I was actually there and that baseball season had finally come. I had expected my heart to burst with joy when I walked through the gates, but the disbelief coupled with the rain left me more in awe than in joy. The joy set in about the sixth inning, but the loss put a bit of a damper on it. Just a bit.

The seats were sandwiched between the two homers Harang gave up. It's funny to sit in the outfield because you can tell from flight of the ball that they are gone. When you sit behind or around home, you often can't tell if it has the distance and you have to watch the outfielders to judge the ball's flight path, but in the outfield, it's coming at you, so yeah, you know as soon as it leaves the bat. The first one wasn't so bad, but two batters later we wondered what was going on. I mean, this is Arizona, a team with zero power, and they ended up hitting three dingers.

What a great experience! I am so excited about this team and this season that I can barely wait for tonight's game. It's all I've thought about since I woke up this morning, and it's only 11:30 now. If only the outside temperature would start being more baseball-like...