Hitting the wall

This weekend I might have hit a wall — and the Brewers might have as well. After nearly a year of working two jobs, I’ve had a hard time staying in a good mood for more than 5 minutes lately, or being positive about anything, and I’m worried about a burnout. The Brewers have played in 25 games so far — and eight of them have gone into extra innings. Two those games were this weekend.

Both losses.

I watched parts of the game at work on Friday. There was a guy at MP with a makeshift sign reading: “Friday Night Fish Fry.” But the Marlins and the Crew went to the top of the 10th with no score. Then the Fish jumped out of the fryer. Even my friend Sam, who just started paying attention to baseball, could tell: “That’s a helluva way to lose, man.”

Saturday was equally tense, but they squeaked out a run with a homer by Prince. Sunday was a shitshow. Posh Tosh and I were nothing short of exhausted. We struggled to make it to the Park by the fifth inning and could hardly keep from yawning, despite another interesting, tight game.

Turnbow came out (to some boos), walked a guy (to some boos), gave up a single (to boos) and walked another guy to load the bases (more boos). This is just about too much to bear. He came out (to thunderous boos) and handed the ball over to Mitch Stetter.

“He’s going to get out of this.”

And he did. Scoring two big strikeouts and getting a third dude to pop up to Prince, standing in the right field foul area, which was now bathed in sun coming through the Park’s west window panes.

“Have they always put the other team’s profiles up there?” Posh asked about the Jumbotron. “I guess I’ve never noticed before. This team is very… unattractive.”

Cody Ross, yeesh. Dan Uggla, that one pretty much writes its own joke. And yet, after Stetter struck and Bill Hall homered to tie the score (leaving everyone feeling the win was in reach), Wes Helms — that ugly, fat sack of donkey shit, Wes Helms — homered to give the Fish a one-run lead. The Brewers couldn’t convert in the bottom of the inning, leaving Corey Hart stranded on 3rd.

There is, however, sparse good news, for me and the Crew:

  • By pinch hitting for our vacationing courts guy, I got to cover the pube planter’s preliminary hearing. The Associated Press called and requested my story, but I haven’t seen it picked up lately. This is sort of like Hernán Iribarren getting called up, getting his first Major League hit, and then getting picked off at first.
  • The Brewers are now 4-2 in games I’ve attended.
  • This weekend figures to be action-packed, as I’m working Derby Day. I’m likely to be neck-deep in mint juleps and things will just start to get more interesting by race time.
  • Tomorrow the boys will be down at the rotten ivy patch on the Northside for their second freezing, rainy April series against the division leading Cubs. Ben Sheets (P) is returning to the lineup, and Mike Cameron (CF) is joining the team after serving his suspension. As much as I love Villanueva and Parra (P), and Kapler and Little T (CF), hopefully it will bring a boast of confidence for everyone to have proven professionals back on the scene.

Baseball can be a confounding, complete metaphor for the Real World, as I’ve said before. And what it teaches us is that sometimes when you hit that wall, you just gotta break on through.

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One response to “Hitting the wall

  1. Pingback: Not in Nottingham « Viva Cerveceros

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