Rain dripped from the sky, actual precipitation rather than the anticipation of it, not like the previous night when they called the game at the thought of rain, though none came. Three brothers and I were to meet up at Justin’s Café, a locally-owned and operated bar with more soul in a pint than the entirety of the Gordon Biersch corporation, whose azoic hands have gripped one corner of an intersection near the ballpark. The rain delayed the game by an hour, so we had time to watch the first period of the Caps game and enjoy an extra sixty minutes of beverages at normal prices instead of the greed-imbued bounty placed upon our wallets at the stadium.
Twitter informed me that the game was starting so we left the establishment for the baseball environs, where we would see a matchup between two very good teams. I can’t say I have ever seen the Tigers in person and the novelty of seeing them reminded me of the days when the American League was the American League and the National League the National, with no meetings between the leagues save for the Mid-Summer Classic and the thrill of October. A happy moment passed when I realized how genuinely excited I was to see Miguel Cabrera play, as if his presence on a team I had never seen live was an enigma akin to the baseball cards of American Leaguers I got as a child. Funny, though, because I had seen him play with the Marlins. Somehow it seems like that doesn’t count. Maybe it’s because he wasn’t a Triple Crown MVP back then. Or maybe it’s because he wore the historic uniform of a storied team rather than the circus costumes of a team no one cares about.
In the late innings the rain made another appearance, but it was the kind of rain that you don’t really notice until you look up at the stadium lights and see the fuzziness that light droplets can make of the illuminated darkness. The night was pleasant, a spring night, not chilly but not exactly warm, either, with a hint of the season that is to come and all the thrills and freedoms that summer can bring to us. The baseball season, too, will warm up. I’m looking forward to it.