Roast beef, baseball, and Walmart

 

The evening started so well...

I had a different post written from hours ago and decided to think about it.

It was, basically, in response to the events of Friday, but I'm going to hold off on it tonight.

Things started with a package from former interns Spencer Pierce and Conor Santoianni, who conspired with Sean to get me a Bobby Murcer t-shirt. Sean got to watch me open the package today at home.

From there? Baseball, after pursuing some kind of late lunch (after no breakfast). Our first deli didn't have roast beef so we had to go to another one.

Don't judge. 

We witnessed a weird one at Dutchess Stadium tonight. A game that was well into the sixth inning within an hour. Sean and I kept looking at each other, astounded at the pace.

I also almost got yelled at because I said, "Things are going so fast," off the air. Man, superstitions are silly unless Stevie Wonder is involved. 

The starting pitcher for Jersey Shore was perfect through six and I said so. I also said the Renegades were being no-hit.

But, in the end, it was a game that the Gades were one-hit and didn't get that hit until the 10th inning.

It was a game that was scoreless until the 12th.

A game that saw three runners out at the plate, including one off a rebound of a potential wild pitch..

A game with multiple runners at third with less than two out.

A game that Jersey Shore won 2-0.

It went from being a thing of beauty -- a well-pitched, close game -- to a bit of an ugly mess.

Jersey Shore -- 2 runs, 6 hits, 1 error, 11 left on base. They were 2-16 with runners in scoring position.

Hudson Valley -- 0 runs, 1 hit, 2 errors, 7 left on base. They were 1-14 with runners in scoring position.

I was craving the drama of the potential no-hitter (it was a perfect game through six) or a Renegades walk-off (which they had a few cracks at). Even the possibility of a walk-off while still being no-hit.

Instead, it sort of just ended and the potential two-hour game went almost 3.5 hours.

Oh well. They can't all be dramatic.

Sean and I stopped at the Walmart in Fishkill and picked up a few supplies for the house, including a frozen pizza, which we called our "(bleep) it" dinner because of the circumstances.

Don't judge.

By the way, it's a crime that Walmart in Fishkill is closing at 11 p.m. I know why -- and so do you -- but it's a shame to not have that convenience of the all-night store.

So I'm content to table the post I had already written and go with this.

Back at it in a few hours.