As a true Baseball Nut™, I take my DIII games seriously. Sure, I could take the Metro North to Yankee stadium to see the professionals, but a) the season hasn’t started yet due to the infamous #lockout2022 b) I would be betraying my people (Massholes) and c) this logistically impossible and morally questionable adventure costs money. Instead, I chose to experience the purity of the sport of 1960s Americana (think the 1993 classic, “The Sandlot”) for free this past Sunday, when the Brewers faced off against both the St. Lawrence Saints and unwelcome snow flurries. There were no peanuts and Cracker Jack but my on-the-go Deece toast and marmalade was pretty edible, not least because stolen food always tastes better.
As I ate my snack, I marveled at the fact that it wasn’t that cold out. The second thing I noticed was the heckling. The evil gatherings of shitting geese by Sunset Lake are less disrespectful than the Saints. Their relentless honking made quite the impression, which I guess made up for their forgettable school. So did their coaches’ “What the FUCK?” meltdown that stalled the game and prompted hoots of “Play ball!” by the parents who were taking everything too seriously.
In the boomers’ defense, their precious sons were on the field, and you know how boy moms can get. Only they would be wise enough to bring chairs to perch on top of the bleachers, a brilliant plan that prevents your ass from freezing to the metal. Speaking of ass freezing to the metal, did I mention it was cold? My initial interpretation of the weather was objectively incorrect and only the cutest golden retriever walking himself on his leash up and down the ass-freezers could distract me from the whipping winds.
Another helpful distraction? The hype-up songs. Drake’s “God’s Plan,” Sia’s “Cheap Thrills,” and my girl Maggie Rogers’… I can’t remember which Maggie Rogers song played but I love Maggie Rogers!… were some of the highlights, but I personally would have gone with “How I Beat Shaq” by Aaron Carter, just to confuse the opposing team.
Based on my observations, yelling “Good eye” at a batter is high praise. As someone who often struggles to see without optical help, I would love for someone to congratulate me for doing the bare minimum. If I had gone to a major league game, I might have missed all the action. But on Sunday, I could stand right by the fence and witness several fascinating #HumanNatureMoments. Bats were tossed and balls were pitched and helmets were thrown on the ground in what can best be identified as a #TemperTantrum. At one point, the ump said, “Hey, I need more balls!” which was so obvious that I hadn’t bothered to take it into account. I spotted a bat boy and a ball boy scurrying around. I won an argument with a baseball analyst about how stealing bases is fun/entertaining/always a good idea. I tried to interpret the hand signals but was largely unsuccessful. My loose translation was “You’re killing me, Smalls!” but that couldn’t have been right…
Since I left before the game was over (even true Baseball Nuts™ get cold!) I concluded based on the Vassar athletics website that the Brewers suffered a great loss. Sure, the final score was only 6 to 5, but it must have hurt to lose to a team of asshole geese boys whose acronym spells out SLUBB.