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Vote Early…or Late…Just Vote

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Maryland’s early voting opened today, and I just returned from casting my vote at the Silver Spring Civic Center – along with hundreds of my neighbors.

The line stretched back to the Whole Foods store, but moved briskly.  There was a festive feel in the air. Of course, when I got inside the Civic Center and saw the tabulation for votes at 1 p.m. – over 500 registered Democrats and less than 30 registered Republicans – I realized that most of the people in this line were going to vote the same general ticket. No wonder they were festive!

Our presidential contest is assumed to be no contest, but we do have a few national/local issues on our ballot – the most important being the state’s Marriage Equality initiative.  Maryland, along with two other states, is attempting to become the first state to support marriage equality by popular vote.

Waiting for 90 minutes also means you have a lot of time to talk with others in the line. I was in a typically diverse segment, with a 20-something long-hair, a young African-American man with bright orange shoes, a 70ish grandmother type who was smart enough to bring her camp stool (remember that for future years), and two delightful Latina women. We all talked about the issues, chatted with the poll workers, and read our smart phones/tablets.  I also took out time to plug-in to some music, and the following tune by Patty Griffin came on as I was nearing the voting booth.  I love Patty’s version of If I Had My Way (recorded at Nashville’s historic Downtown Presbyterian Church), and it seemed appropriate in these days of Citizens United.

As the lead says, vote early, or late…just vote!

More to come…

DJB

Guitars and Baseball

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James Nash once gave some good advice to aspiring guitarists:

Rule #1 for learning to play fast:  don’t practice while watching the ball game. 

Well, tonight…I’m guilty.  Two hours after starting, I’ve finally put the last instrument back on its stand.  I was watching baseball the entire time.

However, I suspect that the San Francisco-based Nash would approve of my choice of ballgame, as the hometown Giants are in the World Series against the Detroit Tigers. And while I didn’t get any real practice in tonight, it sure was fun to multitask around two things that I love.  (Note to regular readers:  Candice, who has become a baseball fan this year with the emergence of the Nats, is out-of-town. I wasn’t ignoring her.)

I grew up as a Giants fan.  The Braves hadn’t moved to Atlanta, so we didn’t have a MLB team in the South.  And Willie Mays is, to my mind, the most complete player in the history of the game.  He was so much fun to watch as a young kid in Tennessee. In those pre-internet days, I had to resort to calling the sports department of the local paper, the Daily News Journal, to get the west coast Giant scores off the wire. But it was worth it to find out if Mays and the Giants won.

Since my Nats couldn’t make it past the Cardinals this year in the postseason, I’m solidly behind the Giants in this World Series. And, at the risk of jinxing them, they’ve had a great start in Game 1.  How about the Panda!

Multitasking isn’t helpful to living in the moment, but tonight I’ve lived in two great moments simultaneously! I’ve just loved wrapping my hands around my Running Dog.  And I have so enjoyed seeing the Giants get off to a great start in the World Series.

Being the superstitious baseball fan I am, if the Giants win I’ll have to multitask again tomorrow night!

Go Giants!

More to come…

DJB

P.S. – If you want to hear Nash give his advice first hand, go to the 4:30 mark in this video and you’ll hear it from the mouth of the master.

How many days until pitchers and catchers report?

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Thomas Boswell deserved better.  But another well-educated baseball fan with a way for words said it best:

“It breaks your heart.  It is designed to break your heart.  The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone.“

I was at Nationals Park last evening to the bitter end.  The spring promise of the 3-0 lead after the first three batters inevitably (it seems in retrospect) led to the chilly fall loneliness of five potential game-winning last strikes that never came.

To sum it up, Thomas Boswell had one of his classic columns in this morning’s Washington Post. Boswell has been writing intelligently about baseball for decades.  But this past week, for the first time, he’s been able to write about playoff baseball where his hometown team is involved. And the bitter pill of last evening’s Game 5 loss in the deciding game of the NLCS series was captured perfectly in his opening line:

“You don’t get the whole feast in the first course. But Washington and its baseball fans, in their first visit to baseball’s postseason banquet, didn’t expect to be served arsenic in the appetizer.“

Boswell deserved better…and the fans in Washington so wanted to see the Nats keep winning and to keep reading Boswell’s columns about this magical season. But it wasn’t to be.

“Get used to it. That’s the nature of the baseball beast. The trek to a pennant, to World Series visits, even to a title, usually take years and, almost always, pass through dark, cold and unforgiving nights like this.“

I took at least five pictures last night, hoping to get the glorious final pitch that would take the Nats to the battle against San Francisco for the National League championship.  But the strikes were never called.  It simply wasn’t to be.

A friend and I were among the largest crowd ever at Nats Park.  It was electric (and I have the rally towel and playoff hoodie to prove it). And even with the loss, I wouldn’t trade a minute.

“After hours of standing and cheering, the crowd finally found itself more in the mood for kneeling, and perhaps praying.“

But in the fashion of a true baseball fan, Boswell ends up looking ahead:

“In the last two days, an entire city has grasped why baseball — the October version for the highest stakes — produces millions of baseball fans. And, as Washington has also learned, those fans end up in three categories: incurably fanatic, temporarily in remission or still recuperating in intensive care.

This week, the Nationals ended a season but probably began an era. After generations of competitive starvation, the District hosted three playoff games with the Nats holding the best regular-season record in the sport.

There will be other seasons. But, for the Nats, none so thrilling, so shattering, so moving, as the first — the first, that is, that really mattered.“

And we’ll give Giamatti the last word at explaining why it matters:

“It breaks my heart because it was meant to, because it was meant to foster in me again the illusion that there was something abiding, some pattern and some impulse that could come together to make a reality that would resist the corrosion; and because, after it had fostered again that most hungered for illusion, the game was meant to stop, and betray precisely what it promised.

Of course, there are those who learn after the first few times.  They grow out of sports.  And there are others who were born with the wisdom to know that nothing lasts.  These are the truly tough among us, the ones who can live without illusion, or without even the hope of illusion.  I am not that grown-up or up-to-date.  I am a simpler creature, tied to more primitive patterns and cycles.  I need to think something lasts forever, and it might as well be that state of being that is a game; it might as well be that, in a green field, in the sun.“

Thanks Nats.  Thanks Jayson, Bam Bam, Zim, LaRoche, The Beast, Ian, Danny, Suzuki, Jesus, Chad, DeRosa, Lombo, Shark, Wilson, Tyler, Ankiel  and all this year’s position players.  Thanks Stras, Nat Gio, Jordan, Edwin, Ross, John, Ryan, Craig, Michael, Christian, Tom, Sean, Clip, and yes…thanks Drew.  And Davey — even though I was dying through the pitching changes in the middle of the game and on the decision to pitch to Kozma with the game tied — a special thanks to you.  This was a hell of a year and we’ll be back for many more.

More to come…

DJB

Sunday Brunch…A Lifesaver

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Last October, Candice and I inadvertently started a tradition of eating brunch out every Sunday.  What a lifesaver…in more ways than one.

It began as a way to get Candice out of the house after her fall.  Since she wasn’t able to drive at the time, I was concerned that being home was making her stir crazy. Church was one of the initial places we ventured and that first Sunday I suggested that we add on brunch. My motives were probably less than pure.  Sure, Candice would get out of the house.  But I’d also get to eat great food…without having to cook! (I was doing a number of chores I don’t normally assume last fall.)

Our pattern became pretty consistent. We’d begin to talk about our choices mid-week.  In the process we’d check out the “best brunches” in the restaurant lists for the DC area.  By Saturday, we go on Open Table and make our reservation.  Candice would often study the menu and go to the restaurant knowing what she wanted. I’m not that disciplined.

The brunches had their intended effect…and then some. Candice began to feel more and more comfortable being out of the house. We found great places to eat (and a few not-so-great). Our new-found tradition carried over into the summer, where Andrew and Claire joined us for brunch whenever they were home. We saw the rhythms of our Sundays change, as we would leisurely sit and talk over food and coffee. These times together helped us adjust to our new-found status as empty nesters. We’d plan our week, trips, and holidays over brunch. And did I mentioned that we found some great food.

Why am I writing about this today?  Because we’ve just returned from another new find that we loved. One of the twins’ favorite brunch places this summer was Graffiato, an Italian restaurant where the innovative offerings are cooked with locally grown ingredients. Candice suggested chef Mike Isabella’s other DC restaurant, Bandolero, in Georgetown. Technically we had lunch (they don’t serve brunch) at Isabella’s Mexican restaurant, but we’re not quibbling.  The lobster quesadilla, crispy cornish game hen, and crazy corn (chile, cheese, and corn nuts around small bites of corn-on-the-cob) were all terrific. Bandolero just opened in May, and Isabella – with a new book out named Crazy Good Italian – is becoming a bit of a franchise in the city.

You may be thinking, “What else do you like?” Well, I was going to tell you.

Our favorite for special occasions is Blue Duck Tavern.  For Easter brunch, the menu is extensive and so tasty.

The local favorite is 8407 Kitchen Bar…located a block and a half from our house in Silver Spring. I’ve become fond of the Andouille Sausage and Shrimp Grits, topped with poached eggs from our favorite local grower, Evensong Farms. Yum, yum!

We’ve also enjoyed Matisse a couple of times this year, where I always order the beignets.  Cashion’s Eats is on our list of regulars. Try Sammy’s Scrapple.  (We know the Sammy in question. He’s a great cook and has a wonderful wife to boot.) And finally, I really enjoy Black Salt restaurant in Palisades. The Louisiana Poached Eggs are to die for!

We’ve been to many other restaurants this year…but these are the ones we’ve put on our “to be visited again” list.  So tell us, DC-area readers, where should we go next Sunday?

More to come…

DJB

The sound of genius

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I opened the paper this morning to the wondrous news that Chris Thile — celebrated l’enfant terrible of the mandolin — was one of the 2012 recipients of the MacArthur Foundation Fellowship grants.

You gotta love it when a kid who starts off in bluegrass ends up being recognized as a MacArthur “genius” – the popular term for the winners of the $500,000, no strings attached annual award.

Here’s the description from the MacArthur Foundation website:

Chris Thile is a young mandolin virtuoso and composer whose lyrical fusion of traditional bluegrass with elements from a range of other musical traditions is giving rise to a new genre of contemporary music. With a broad outlook that encompasses progressive bluegrass, classical, rock, and jazz, Thile is transcending the borders of conventionally circumscribed genres in compositions for his own ensembles and frequent cross-genre collaborations. Although rooted in the rhythmic structure of bluegrass, his early pieces for his long-time trio, Nickel Creek, have the improvisatory feel of jazz; his current ensemble, Punch Brothers, evokes the ethos of classical chamber music even while adhering to the traditional instrumentation of the bluegrass quintet. The Blind Leaving the Blind, a song suite on Punch Brothers’ first album (Punch, 2008), extends the sound of bluegrass in its range of harmonies and polyrhythms. Thile further explores the symphonic dimensions of the string quintet in both the improvised and elaborately composed works of Antifogmatic (2010). Among his many collaborations, Thile has expanded the reach of the mandolin in Ad Astra per Alas Porci (2009), a three-movement mandolin concerto, and in his solo mandolin interpretations of Bach’s works for violin, which showcase his technical mastery and fluid, soulful phrasing. Through his adventurous, multifaceted artistry as both a composer and performer with various ensembles, Thile is creating a distinctly American canon for the mandolin and a new musical aesthetic for performers and audiences alike.

Chris Thile studied music at Murray State University (1998–1999). From 1989 to 2007, he was a member of the trio Nickel Creek, and in 2006 he formed Punch Brothers. His additional recordings include Here to There (1997) and Why Should the Fire Die? (2005) with Nickel Creek; Who’s Feeling Young Now? (2012) with Punch Brothers; and the solo albums Not All Who Wander Are Lost (2001), Deceiver (2004), and How to Grow a Woman from the Ground (2006).

That’s all true.  But for those of us who have been listening to this phenom for a decade or two, he’s simply otherworldly.

There are many musicians who paved the way for Thile’s genius to bloom. His current band, Punch Brothers, plays with the same configuration of instruments – with the mandolin at the center – that the Father of Bluegrass, Bill Monroe, established in the 1940s. Traditional music virtuosi such as Doc Watson and Earl Scruggs showed that roots music could include branches outside the strict confines of bluegrass and folk.  Monster string players such as Tony Rice and Mark O’Connor demonstrated that traditional musicians can play with a speed, tone, touch, and musicality that raised the bar in the acoustic music world to levels once thought to belong only in the jazz and classical genres. Dobro master Jerry Douglas and Newgrass pioneer Sam Bush bring a physicality to their playing that helped shaped this key aspect of Thile’s music. Composer and bandleader David Grisman almost single-handedly took the traditional string band instrumentation and showed how gifted players could play a wonderful blend of jazz, world, bluegrass, and classical.

Thile combines all of these talents, and more, in one incredibly energetic and creative individual.  Take, for instance, the Nickel Creek live classic, The Fox. In this version from a Merlefest performance that Claire and I saw a few years ago, Thile and his band mates take off on a traditional tune, and then find all sorts of ways to venture out into other music and genres, before meandering back to the original.

But Thile doesn’t have to be in a band setting to shine.  Listen to this wonderful Bach E Major Prelude, which Thile takes to the mandolin:

Why not show TWO MacArthur genius grant recipients together?  Because, the talent here might just blow you away.  But if you are game, take a look at Thile and double bassist Edgar Meyer playing Farmer and the Duck.

This could go on for days.  So to wrap things up, let’s end with a fun tune by the Punch Brothers, Brakeman’s Blues, where Thile gets to channel his inner Jimmie Rodgers.

Congratulations, Chris Thile.  Well deserved!  And congratulations to the folks at the MacArthur Foundation for recognizing genius in some of the hidden places of American life and music.

More to come…

DJB

Scorebook

2012 N.L. East Division Champs!

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Like Michael Morse – shown here grinning as he steps to the plate to lead off the bottom of the 9th in a 2-0 Nationals loss to the Phillies –  I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun in a ballpark after a loss.

Best. Losing. Night. Ever.

Candice and I were at Nationals Park on Monday, October 1st, hoping to watch the Nats clinch their first ever National League East Division championship.

It didn’t happen the way we hoped, with a Nats victory. But since they played so well from April through September, this loss on the first day of October didn’t keep our boys from clinching. About 10 minutes before our game ended, the Pittsburgh Pirates (bless their hearts) defeated the Atlanta Braves. With a magic number of one, the deed was done and the outcome on the field was anti-climatic.

For the third time this year, I made the big screen, this time holding up a pair of Champs banners that our seat mate had brought to the park.

Let the celebration begin!

To help, here are my photos from tonight:  My scorecard from the game (with my new N.L. East Division Champs t-shirt) at the top. Bryce Harper high-fiving the crowd. (Best interview line tonight with the 19-year-old Harper – Radio interviewer:  Bryce, are you drinking cider? Harper: That’s a clown question, bro!) Fireworks at the stadium. DJB wearing his new Division Champs hat!

And listening to SportsCenter tonight, they just say, “How about a Beltway World Series?” How about it!

Woo hoo!!

Go Nats!!!

More to come…

DJB

High and Tight or High Lonesome…It’s All Good

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Last evening felt like an embarrassment of riches.

The Nationals were mowing down the hated Phillies on the road, to maintain the best record in baseball and lower their magic number to 3.  There were some high and tight pitches thrown. Michael “The Beast” Morse hits a home run “nine million feet” into the Nat’s bullpen in right-center field where reliever Tom Gorzelanny catches the ball in his cap, eliciting whoops, cheers, and raised arms all around.

It was fun to watch.

But the International Bluegrass Music Association awards (IBMA) show was being live streamed on Bluegrass Today’s web site from the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville at the same time, with appearances by Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers, Doyle Lawson, and many others.

What’s a bluegrass loving Nat’s fan to do?

Simple…multi-task.

Zap goes the mute button. I’ll “listen” to Bob and F.P. on closed captions. Next, I turn on the live stream on the iPad and we’re off to the races.

Loved the tribute to Ralph Rinzler and the story of how he discovered Doc Watson.  (Doc came to a recording session with his father-in-law bearing an electric guitar.  Rinzler, the purist, sends him away. The next day Doc comes along with a banjo and plays old-time music. Rinzler pays attention, and the rest is history.) And it was a nice tribute to name Doc the bluegrass guitarist of the year. There was great music throughout the evening.

So Thursday ended up being a pretty wonderful day.  Of course, things change and the Nats are now down 5-1 in the first inning. Oh well…there is still a lot of baseball to be played.

If you can’t stand the scary parts (as Boswell puts it), just click on the video below and listen to Junior Sisk sing the Bluegrass Song of the Year,  A Far  Cry from Lester and Earl. For extra credit, see how many bluegrass tunes you pick up in the course of the song.  You’ll also get the reference to the High Lonesome sound.

High and Tight or High Lonesome. No matter where you looked, it was all good!

More to come…

DJB

The World’s Longest Art Gallery

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Nine Mile Canyon Rock Writing

Rock art at Nine Mile Canyon

Utah’s Nine Mile Canyon is one of the unique cultural  landscapes in the world. Earlier this week I was fortunate to tour portions of the canyon with some of the smart, passionate people who have helped save it through the years.

As Jerry and Donna Spangler note in their guide Horned Snakes and Axle Grease, Nine Mile Canyon is…well, not nine miles in length.

By its very name, Nine Mile Canyon is an enigma.  From its upper reaches on the west, the canyon twists and turns more than 50 miles to its confluence with the Green River on the east. And how the canyon got its incongruous name remains clouded with the passage of time.

Despite the misleading name, Nine Mile Canyon is an amazing landscape filled with rock art – or as some prefer rock writing – from Native Americans about whom we know very little.  The miles of rock art has led many to call Nine Mile Canyon “The World’s Longest Art Gallery.” As the Spanglers note, “There is something undeniably magical about Nine Mile Canyon….”

So rather than write about it, I’m simply going to post six additional photos out of the 150+ I took on the trip, ending with the world famous “Great Hunt.” Enjoy the mystery and beauty. If the pictures tweak your interest, the Spanglers’ roadside guide is a good place to start.

More to come…

DJB

Begin the New Year

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Candice and David at High Brewster on Cape Cod (Photo by John Thorne)

Candice and David at High Brewster on Cape Cod

For many Americans, the Labor Day weekend — not January 1st — is really the beginning of the new year.

School years begin in late August and early September. Some parents — like us — have just dropped off one or more children at college this weekend. (In Claire’s case, she flew off to California on her own, but we did physically deposit Andrew in his dorm room for his sophomore year.) The somewhat slower rhythms of July and August at work, coupled with vacations, seem to be a bigger break in anticipation of starting over than the December break provides before January 1st. And this year, many Americans are just beginning to focus on the presidential race and the choice facing our country.

So while Candice, the twins and I took a two-week family trip in mid-August to visit with our parents and siblings, we took the advice of those who said family trips don’t equal vacations and decided to tack on four days around the college drop-off to make sure our batteries were sufficiently recharged.

We are ready for a new year.

Three hundred and sixty-five days ago, we were nearing the end of an 8-day, unscheduled stay in the Intensive Neurological Care Unit at Rhode Island Hospital, after Candice fell and suffered a severe concussion and seizures as we dropped Andrew off for his freshman year at college. The Fall – as it came to be called – affected everything over the past year, in good ways and bad.  On the down side, we had to grapple with the onerous US health care system (count us among the fans of universal health coverage and the Affordable Health Care Act); unintended side effects of the concussion (such as the inability to exercise and swim for several months, which led to a faster-than-expected hip replacement for Candice); and strains on care-givers and children. I have put on about 20 unwanted pounds, which I’m attributing to my focus being elsewhere.  (That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it!)

But Candice likes to say that the past year has been a blessing…and as much as I hate to admit it, she is right as she usually is in so many instances.  Our doctors, nurses, and physical therapists have been amazing. Candice has had time to think and reflect while resting first from the concussion and then the hip replacement. Out of that time, she’s focused on how she wants to reshape her life as we begin time in the empty-nest without the burden of personal health issues staring us in the face. We realized that we could simplify much of what we did and still get by.  Our children have been wonderful – and so supportive – during this period of recovery. The greatest blessing of all was the love of friends and family, who fed us, drove us to appointments, and watched over us during the most trying times of the year. We were just reminded of that last evening when we visited with our friends John and Sara, who helped us in so many ways throughout the year.  John is the photographer who took the photos of the two of us I included in this blog post.

Candice likes to talk about all of this as we’re sitting out on the porch of the Cranberry Inn here in Chatham, on Cape Cod.  I’m more of a listener when it comes to these discussions, but I’ve been thinking about how this year can – and should – be different. What can I take from this experience as I begin a new year?

Claire’s interest in psychology has me reading all sorts of books that I wouldn’t have considered just 18 months ago. Case in point: I recently read Charles Duhigg’s book The Power of Habit, which explores some of the recent scientific study of the brain. I have begun to think about ways to change some regularly recurring actions that I want to lose, and how to strengthen a couple of new habits that can be keystones to reprogramming other routines in life as well. In the past two months, I’ve been much more faithful at the gym, in part because I trigger that habit by laying out my gym clothes at night before I go to bed.  Simple, but effective. Yet that unwanted 20 pounds won’t go away on exercise alone.  Our children have become much more focused on exercise and eating well, and I want to build on their good routines.

Music fills my soul. More music comes when I practice guitar every morning before heading off to work, and then scheduling regular play times with my guitar buddies.  (Sounds like 4-year-olds, I know).  I’ve seen the former, because I’ve played every day since early July.

We have been so touched by the kindness of friends this year, and thus have looked for ways to build on that kindness. Candice and I love entertaining small groups of friends, and we’re working on making that intentional all the time – not just when we happen to think it has been too long since the last dinner.

For me, work becomes more effective and rewarding when I delegate and support, rather than attempting to do it all. I could go on and on, but you get the picture.

Duhigg writes that,

“Habits aren’t destiny….(They) can be ignored, changed, or replaced. But…when a habit emerges, the brain stops fully participating in decision-making. It stops working so hard or diverts focus to other tasks. So unless you deliberately fight a habit – unless you find new routines – the pattern will unfold automatically.”

Part of my new routine is to name the change.  I’ve done that before (as when I announced, on my Facebook page last January, that I was giving up all sodas) and it has worked.  I’ve named a few more changes needed here. I have others where I want to make the change but I’m not ready to announce them to the world.

September 2011 – August 2012 was a blessing…most especially in that a potentially fatal accident led instead to time for introspection, learning, and more reliance on friends than we’re use to. September 2012 begins a new year where we can claim all that we’ve learned.

More to come…

DJB

Baseball Pilgrimages (Continued)

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It was a night when you wondered if Noah was nearby, putting the finishing touches on his ark.

Lightening and thunder in rapid succession. Rain that lashed at the body if you were unfortunate enough to be outside. Howling winds. Waves lapping at the shore.

And I was in Tampa, not to help rewrite the Republican national platform, but for something much more consequential: to catch a baseball game.

In most cities it would have been a wasted opportunity. But the Tampa Bay Rays play in St. Petersburg’s Tropicana Field, one of the few remaining domes still hosting major league baseball on a daily basis. And for this night, I was glad to have a roof over my head when Ray’s ace David Price threw that first pitch right on schedule.

Tampa Bay was #14 on my journey to visit all 30 major league ballparks.  It promised to be a special night.  The Rays were on a hot streak, winning five games to close the gap with the first-place Yankees to four games. Their ace – and Murfreesboro, Tennessee native – David Price was on the mound throwing serious heat and going for a MLB-leading 17th win. The hapless Kansas City Royals were the opponent and although they had the first pick in the 2006 draft (Luke Hochevar) to go against the first pick in the 2007 draft (Price), it still looked like a mismatch.

Price held up his end of the bargain, pitching eight scoreless innings and throwing fastballs at 95-97 mph that couldn’t be touched. The Royals managed three lonely hits against Price.

But he was matched – or perhaps bettered – by Hochevar.  Throwing a steady diet of 77 mph curveballs that had the Rays flailing all night, he also threw 8 scoreless innings and gave up only one hustle double that did no harm. Rays star Evan Longoria looked so helpless that on a grounder to short, he trotted down to first, eliciting a few “run it out” calls from fans (including yours truly). Yes, he is recovering from a partially torn hamstring, but I would rather not see players on the field if they can’t go all out.

The game flew by (for an American League game) and shortly past the two-hour mark the game headed into extra innings.  The 100 mph heat from the Royals’ Kevin Herrera looked – no doubt – much more formidable following Hochevar’s junk than the 100 mph pitches from Fernando Rodney, who was only besting Price by 2-3 mph on his best stuff. A Rays error in the top of the tenth allowed the Royals to score the winning run, and it was all over.

It was your classic pitchers duel, and ESPN told just how impressive a feat it was for both pitchers:

Tuesday, there was a pitcher’s duel between David Price of the Rays and Luke Hochevar of the Royals. Price allowed no runs and three hits, with 8 strikeouts in 8 innings Hochevar allowed no runs and one hit with 10 strikeouts in eight innings. This is the 2nd game in the Live Ball Era (since 1920) in which each starting pitcher went at least 8 innings, allowed no runs, 3 hits or fewer, and struck out at least 8. The other came in The Year of the Pitcher– August 26, 1968 between the Twins and Senators. The pitchers that day were Jim Perry for the Twins (who won 215 MLB games over his career) and Frank Bertaina (who finished with 19 career wins) for the Senators

The disappointment of the evening – besides the general dated feeling of Tropicana Field (hey, the 70s ended a long time ago) – was with the crowd. With two aces on the mound and the Rays hot on the heels of the Yankees in a pennant race, the stadium looked and felt two-thirds empty.  The morning stat sheets tells me the announced attendance was 10,877 – or 30.2% of capacity. There wasn’t a lot of energy in the stadium, and it sure didn’t feel like other parks I’ve been in (Boston, Philly, Washington) where the homestanding team is right in the thick of the race.  Hell, I was wearing my customary Washington Nationals cap (in honor of Stephen Strasburg’s big win over Atlanta last evening – Go Nats!) and Andrew and I were actually shown on the big screen TV – totally destroying his thesis that you had to wear Rays gear to make the show.

But baseball is still baseball, no matter the crowd, and we had a great time knocking off stadium #14 on my bucket list.  Here’s what remains, and a final photo of David Price from Tropicana Field.

  • Arizona Diamondbacks – Chase Field
  • Cincinnati Reds – Great American Ball Park
  • Chicago White Sox – US Cellular Field
  • Cleveland Indians – Jacobs Field
  • Detroit Tigers – Comerica Park
  • Houston Astros- Minute Maid Park
  • Los Angeles Angels – Angel Stadium
  • Los Angeles Dodgers – Dodger Stadium
  • Miami Marlins – Marlins Park
  • Minnesota Twins – Target Field
  • New York Mets – Citi Field
  • New York Yankees – Yankee Stadium (I know – how can I not have made it to Yankee stadium yet?!  Just goes to show I’ve never been a big Yankees fan)
  • Pittsburgh Pirates – PNC Park
  • San Diego Padres – Petco Par
  • Texas Rangers – Texas Stadium
  • Toronto Blue Jays – Rogers Centre

More to come…

DJB