The missus and I decided we had to make one last baseball game before the Asheville Tourist season is over, so we hurried through chores and made it just in time for the first pitch tonight. For us, our baseball nights are ones of decadence, filled with hot dogs, Yuengling, pulled pork sandwiches, peanuts, and a scoop each of "Dippin' Dots" in plastic cups shaped like baseball caps.
Oh, and the game...
image via ezine.buncombecounty.org
Asheville has played mediocre ball in the season's second half season: fourth place with a 34-29 record, but on a three game winning streak. Their pitching staff is better than most years - almost everyone throws in the low 90s, and they have several standout players. Among them is one Dustin Garneau (wait for it, Dave Frauenfelder...wait for it) a catcher from Torrance, CA, who reminds me a lot of San Francisco's Buster Posey.
The "Ts" jumped off to a ginormous start, 5-0 in the first inning, but those pesky Hagerstown Suns just kept chipping away at the hometown fireballers until they were wallowing all over the "Ts," 11-6.
Then the "Ts" woke from their snoozefest with two runs each in the 7th, 8th, and 9th innings to take the game 12-11. It wasn't exactly the pitcher's duel I so love - what with 37 hits between the two teams, but there was a lot of ash wood meeting horsehide, and that made for a night of near-cardiac arrest for this Class High-A baseball fan.
With that done, the missus, who doesn't care so much for baseball but loves ballpark food, turns to me and says, "Want to see the season closer tomorrow night?"
No, I say, not after all this. But then I think, well, maybe.
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Native American culture. Education. Creative writing.