One Man's Baseball Marathon

Jason Michael Barker

I watched a ton of baseball this weekend.

I know what you're thinking -- a pair of nine inning games? Nope.

A regular game and another that went extra innings? Try again.

OK, then, maybe three games in three days? Not even close.

Saturday's Mariners-Indians contest went 11 innings. Sunday afternoon's rematch went the regular 9. And Sunday night's Northwest League game between the Everett AquaSox and Salem-Keizer Volcanoes went 12 more, for a total of 32 innings in two days. Or 32 innings in roughly 32 hours, which sounds slightly more impressive.

What's more, the three games were extremely competitive throughout, featured more than their share of drama, and were decided by a total of four runs. And the first two were even a probable post-season preview! But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The baseball marathon began Saturday at SafeCo Field -- Indians at Mariners in what was likely a preview of one American League Division Series. Even before "Diamonds on the Diamond," this was a weird one. Cleveland starter Chuck Finley, fresh off the disabled list, left after two innings with a rib cage injury. Slugger Juan Gonzalez was pinch-hit for by Jolbert Cabrera in the fifth, but it actually worked out well for the Tribe -- not only did Cabrera go two-for-three with an RBI, but he made a nice running catch in the bottom of the fifth that would have gone for a double if Gonzo had still been in the game.

Seattle starter Freddy Garcia was far from having his best stuff, but he made do. You often hear managers and broadcasters talk about how important it is for a starter to learn how to pitch and get by without his best stuff. I'm not sure how much truth there is to that, but if it's even remotely close to being the real deal, Garcia learned a great deal in his eight innings and 118 pitches (six hits, six walks, two runs).

Cleveland scored single runs in the fourth and fifth; Seattle answered with runs in the sixth and seventh. Then came the top of the ninth. By this point, you've no doubt heard all about the feud between Omar Vizquel and Arthur Rhodes over the pitcher's jumbo diamond earrings, so I'll spare you the play-by-play and jump right to my thoughts.

First, Vizquel was playing "we'll see you in the post-season, buck-o" mind games with Rhodes, pure and simple. It might have been a bit more convincing had he actually waited until stepping into the batter's box before determining that the glare would hinder his batting eye, but no bother. But once Rhodes actually removed the earrings, was it necessary for Omar to carry on? Certainly not, and he should have been ejected as well.

In the stands, most fans were rooting for the umps to simply let the two have it out. In any sort of fair fight, Rhodes (6-2, 205) would kick the crap out of Vizquel (5-9, 185) every day of the week and twice on Sunday (pardon the mixed metaphor, but that last one is one of my favorites).

Ironically enough, the Tribe lost the game when a hard-throwing, left-handed reliever of their own lost his cool. John Rocker entered the game to a chorus of boos from the fans and the sounds of the Village People's "Y.M.C.A." (no joke) blaring over the PA. After issuing a leadoff walk to John Olerud, he kicked at the dirt. He slammed his glove down in disgust after allowing an infield single to Mike Cameron. After fielding David Bell's sac bunt, looking at third and hesitating rather than throw out pinch-runner Al Martin, Rocker then threw the ball down the rightfield line allowing the winning run to score.

Eleven innings down, 21 to go.

There was no retaliation against Omar Vizquel on Sunday, though I wonder how much of that was Lou Piniella not wanting to start something and how much had to do with the fact that whenever Omar batted, Kenny Lofton had already reached base in front of him: homer, single, single, (out), single. Well, that and it was such a close game that an extra baserunner could have made all the difference.

Enter Rhodes once more in the ninth, who this time didn't make it to the mound before being stopped by umpire Tim McClelland (the home plate umpire the day before) and asked to remove the offending earrings. Again, I understand the need for batters to not be distracted by jewelry on the opposing pitcher. But in the interest of the rules, shouldn't McClelland have waited until a member of the Indians actually complained about the earrings?

Jeff Nelson and Rhodes combined to blow a 3-2 lead in the ninth, and though the Mariners loaded the bases in the bottom of the inning and brought Ichiro to the plate, Cleveland triumphed 4-3. This was hardly a concern of mine, however, as there were much more pressing issues at hand.

Namely: Cleveland's late-inning heroics and several calls to the bullpen turned what should have been a relatively quick game into a three and a half hour marathon, leaving me roughly an hour to exit the stadium, walk to the car (I do not pay for parking) and fight traffic to make the approximately 30-mile drive from SafeCo Field to Everett's Memorial Stadium.

One hour and two speeding tickets later, we arrived in our seats along the firstbase side thanks to some creative walking, driving and parking along the way.

I'm kidding about the speeding tickets, folks.

I was expecting to see a pretty big contrast between Everett and Seattle -- this was my first game below AAA -- but sitting 14 rows behind the dugout of a 5,000-seat stadium, that difference was made even more apparent after having been seated in SafeCo Field an hour earlier.

For starters, this was the first time I've ever felt old at a baseball game. The hometown nine started five players born in the 1980's, and they have only five players on their roster older than yours truly (9-17-78, in case you were wondering). Then there's the fact that you're sitting so close to the action, everyone in the stands can hear the players and coaches on the field yelling. "Look alive out there Robbie!" "Way to hit Jimbo!" (Seriously, the Volcanoes started a guy named Jimbo McAuliff).

The Salem-Keizer Volcanoes lead the West Division of the Northwest League with an impressive 43-22 record, while the Everett AquaSox have struggled to play .500 ball this year due to relative lack of prospects, particularly among position players. Eduardo Figueroa, perhaps the only hitter worth seeing, had been moved up to low-A Wisconsin earlier in the week, and the club's two best pitchers -- Travis Blackley and Gustavo Martinez -- weren't set to pitch that night either. The guy I really wanted to see was Seattle fan favorite Jay Buhner, but alas his re-hab stint had him down the freeway at AAA Tacoma this weekend, 30 miles south of Seattle rather than 30 miles north.

The Sox were unfazed by S-K's impressive record. In particular, starter Ryan Ketchner was very impressive in allowing just two baserunners (a pair of third inning singles) over seven innings, and left with a 2-0 lead. At some point during the game as we were marveling about how much baseball we had seen over the past two days, my girlfriend turned to me and said "you know, 29 innings of baseball just isn't enough. I was really hoping for 30." You know what they say about being careful what you wish for...

Sure enough, the Volcanoes put together two runs in the top of the ninth to force extra innings. Despite numerous chances -- the AquaSox left the bases loaded in the ninth, a runner on third in the tenth, first and third in the eleventh and one more in the twelfth -- Everett was unable to score in the bonus frames while Salem-Keizer came up with two in the top of the twelfth to win it.

The announced attendance was 3,886, and I'm not exaggerating when I say there were probably less than 200 fans left by the time the game ended. Because the game started at six and moved pretty quickly it wasn't all that late, but it certainly was cold. Plus, it's short-season baseball and there isn't nearly the urgency to stick around one might feel at a major league game.

At 9:42pm Pacific Time, approximately 32 hours and 31 minutes after it began, my baseball odyssey was over, having consisted of one earring controversy, two days, two stadiums, three games, four teams and 32 innings of wonderful, enjoyable baseball. If you haven't been to a game in person lately, do yourself a favor and get out to see one before the season is over. With all its intricacies, match-ups and drama, baseball really is the greatest game being played today.

Special thanks go out to the Mariners and Indians, the AquaSox and Volcanoes, the nice people I sat next to in Everett, the friendly staff at Memorial Stadium, and of course Carrie, who is perhaps the greatest girlfriend (she's now his fiancŽe -- ladies, be careful what you agree to. -ed.) in history for putting up with my baseball obsession and sitting through all 32 innings even though she was tired, cold and hungry by the end.

about the author

In case you hadn't guessed, Jason Michael Barker is dead tired after all that baseball, and he isn't afraid to say that his posterior is a bit sore after sitting in stadium seats for so many hours. He's going to take a nap now, so please speak softly when you write to jmb@strikethree.com.

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