Sometimes Winning Hurts

For my son's 20th birthday we took in the Boston Red Sox/Detroit Tigers night game yesterday. Our first game at Comerica Park, only our second Tiger game as a family ever, hopefully it would be a memorable experience. I've always enjoyed family bonding. Except that older son Greg had to arrive solo, having to leave early for a new job he just started. He brought our second car and I gave him some money to park. He spent the money instead on a big beer at the ball park, reporting proudly that he had spent nothing to park (we paid $10). Our car was left in an unguarded vacant lot somewhere downtown this night. Hmmmmm.

Our less than .500 Tigers struggled against the World Champion Sox. Then, in the sixth inning, something memorable occurred. No, not a Tiger comeback. Two streakers. I understand TV cameras must pan away, supposedly so not to encourage such rowdiness. But I think also to avoid showing the lack of security at these large-crowd-with-alcohol affairs. Although one streaker made a beeline for the opposite field, the other trotted about in centerfield for quite some time. Heck, he could have roasted hot dogs out there without being bothered. Finally, whether bored or tired, he strolled over to the foul line. As he was being cuffed in the buff, he shimmied a little impromptu hula dance. No apologies.

After he was led off, I realized that my camera remained on my lap the whole time. It would have made a nice photo for my blog. Or not. Not to be graphic, but you didn't miss much. "It was just a little streak," teased a vendor. A newspaper wondered whether the two ended up in "small claims court."

Birthday boy Scott got his treat in the bottom of the eighth when veteran MVP Curt Schilling, the pitcher he wanted most to see, took the mound for the Sox, quickly extinguishing a Tigers rally. "Ready to go?" he asked after Schilling got the final batter out. Didn't he still want to see Curt Schilling in the ninth?

The way Schilling was pitching, Scott said, he would probably mow down the Tigers 1-2-3.

"But he has an Earned Run Average of over 6.00," I added.

"He had some troubles early in the year, but he hasn't let up more than a run in the last 20 games," Scott replied.

There was something wrong with his math, I knew, since my job is numbers. But we left. Riding home, we listened to the radio as the Tigers came back against Schilling in the bottom of the ninth, scoring three times to win, the winning hit dropping right in front of our old seats. It was a memorable finish.

"That hurt," I said aloud in the car. Scott claimed, rightly so, that he didn't force us to leave. "I didn't put you in a headlock and pull you out the gate," he said.

True, but at least then there would have been some family bonding.