A move only a seam-head would make
There was a Packers game being played, the second of the regular season and the first at reconfigured Lambeau. It was there for the viewing on my man-cave big-screen HD TV which rests within mere feet of a well-stocked fridge and a shiny clean bathroom.
Then there was a relatively meaningless baseball game being played at Miller Park, the lid closed to keep out a chilly September downpour. It was a contest that meant much to the visiting Cincinnati Reds, but virtually nothing to the local nine who'd played themselves out of contention by Memorial Day.
So what did this sporting fan choose to do?
He went to the baseball game, of course. There was a Ben Oglivie bobble head in it for those of us who picked horsehide over pigskin. I and 26,724 others settled in for the fray just as Green Bay was racking up first half touchdowns seemingly at will against outmanned Washington. Each tally would be greeted by a yell that was inappropriate to what was happening under the dome where excitement was at a premium--the Brewers fell into an early 4-0 hole.
Then good things started to happen. A run in the fifth and another in the seventh were enough to make things interesting. Down 5-2 in the eighth, the Crew rallied to tie. Cincinnati had two on with two outs and Brewers killer Jay Bruce at the dish, but his moon shot off reliever Jim Henderson landed safely in center fielder Carlos Gomez' glove, another fantastic, game-saving catch by a player who finally seems to be paying dividends on GM Doug Melvin's patience.
It was left to the unheralded Sean Halton to send us home happy, his one-out solo blast handing the Crew a hard-earned, little-expected 6-5. win.
The best part? I won something.
I usually seize upon the sausage race to hit the head--it's usually empty at that point in the proceedings--but chose to stay in my seat and dabble with my smartphone while the drama played out on the warning track. Little did I know our section was up for a prize if Chorizo won--he did, and we were told to report to the Fan Assistance Center to collect our booty. One person thought we'd won a t-shirt. Another speculated pizza. I'd be happy with either. Hell, I'd already snagged my Oglivie. This was turning out to be a red letter day.
So what did we get?
Lip balm, or as the label says, "Premium Lip Moisturizer". That sounds more exotic.
I came for the bobble, and left with a great memory, not to mention something extra for my occasionally chapped pie-hole. The victory was sweet, and chances are it may very well be the last time I set foot in Miller Park this season. The home stand wraps up and I'm swamped with other things that may preclude a four-hour stadium siesta. The string may have to be played out minus yours truly.
A season that started with so much promise--and Ryan Braun in left field as the beloved face of the Milwaukee franchise--ends with unknown faces in familiar places. Then again, only one team in any sport wins the last game of the season. Say this for the 2013 Brewers--they didn't build up any false expectations once the season began. They were listless out of the April gate and un-watchable in May as any hope of a playoff berth evaporated.
Miller Park is always fun, even if the product on the field is unsavory. There's plenty of hope for next season--young pitching, Jean Segura, Scooter Gennett, Jonathan Lucroy and Gomez, not to mention my main man Nori Aoki in right. There'll be the drama of Braun's return and his quest for redemption. Will boos turn to cheers? In Milwaukee, maybe. He may be a convicted drug user and liar but he's OUR convicted drug user and liar. He helped rehab houses during his suspension. His ultimate repair job awaits. There may not be a hammer large enough to bang out all the dents absorbed by his image.
The postseason looms, there's plenty of Packers football left, an Admirals season that'll be starting soon and reconfigured Bucks to get us through the winter.
And, I've always got my premium lip moisturizer to keep my lips pliant and supple. What else could a seam head ask for as the Hot Stove League beckons?