This is a picture of about 2-3lbs of tomatoes, some kale, and two peppers from my friend’s garden. You see, my friends go to Burning Man every year, and they set up this glorious garden for the first time this season. When they left the other day, they told a bunch of friends that they could come to the house and harvest the stuff that was there; otherwise, it’d go bad. So I did. I love fresh tomatoes, and I am a sucker for free, fresh vegetables. Nothing says summer quite like fresh food.
But why? Why is there a photograph of vegetables on a baseball blog, you might be asking?
Well, the answer is annoyingly simple, terrible, and funny. Eh, maybe not so funny, though tonight was a very just my luck situation.
You see, these early games on Fridays have been great for me, because I can leave work, hop a bus, and walk down to a local pub (who won’t be getting any mention here, because even though I love them, they are indeed partially responsible for my evening going sideways), have a few pints and maybe a bite to eat, and watch the game. Then around 7pm or so, I still have most of my evening left to go elsewhere, or chill out at home. So you can imagine, perhaps, my excitement regarding tonight’s game being on a Friday, against the Red Sox, with Felix on the hill. That’s an imaginable thing, right? I mean, the radio has been talking about it almost all week, and every day that Felix pitches is a good day.
And I did enjoy my evening; I ordered some Zeek’s Pizza ahead of time, picked it up on my way to the pub, and met Tom down there, opened my tab, and we had some drinks. I spent time on Twitter. I watched Felix throw an awful 5 & 2/3 innings, but I was still enjoying baseball, and my Friday. Anything is possible in baseball, and even though around the 6th inning we were down 3-0, I had hopes that maybe the bats would wake up, and we’d be able to make a triumphant return. Not too hopeful, but hopeful nonetheless, because that is the spirit of the game. And this season has been all about hope.
But then the bar began to fill up with Seahawks fans. Seahawks fans who were there to watch exhibition football, a game being played live downtown against the Chicago Bears.
OK, I thought; surely they will allow us to watch the remainder of this game; there are three other TVs in that room, and all are easily viewable. They should allow us to finish the game, and then we’ll leave and they can turn this TV on to the Seahawks game. Fine. Done deal….right?
Not so much.
In the middle of the 7th inning, as game action was still happening, in an important game for the Mariners, the bartender walked into the room, and simply flipped the channel. He didn’t ask, he didn’t offer to switch maybe another set to the Mariners game so we could finish watching, he just…changed the channel to meaningless exhibition football and left the room. So I paid the tab and we bailed.
Figuring that perhaps it was the right thing to do, I decided that since we were losing so badly and there didn’t seem to be much hope of redemption, maybe I’d take my friend up on her offer, and go down to the farm off Rainier and grab some free veggies. I should make something out of the evening, right? If the Mariners can’t win, why not get some healthy organic food? I set the dial to 770AM (an absolutely terrible alternative to 710 ESPN, might I add. Everything sounds like it’s being broadcast out of a tin can under a bridge) because, once again, exhibition football apparently is far more important in this city than a long-struggling baseball team that is in a position to maybe do the playoff thing. We drove along I5, through slowing traffic and an accident, and arrived at the farm. I got a shopping bag out of the car, and spent about 20 minutes or so culling everything in the above picture, then watered the plants in their greenhouse since it didn’t appear that anyone else had since they left. I felt that I had done a good deed and had something to show for it (for those of you who don’t garden, picking fruit off of a plant allows more energy to go to unripened fruit and speeds up that whole process; nature truly is brilliant) and would listen to the rest of a losing game on the radio as I drove home to maybe make a margarita and drown my sorrows.
Except that the first thing that I heard when I started the car back up and turned up the radio was Rick Rizzs, reiterating the now 5-3 score in favor of the Mariners, and talking about how Koji Uehara just had a massive breakdown, and there was a ninth (NINTH!) Mariners batter at the plate, and the Ms had been running roughshod all over Uehara’s pitching.
You. Have. Got. To. Be. Joking.
And yes, Fernando Rodney came into the 9th inning and was a little wobbly but saved the game. And yes, we won. And yes, Uehara got the loss. But I didn’t get to see it, because someone I don’t know made that decision for me, and my past history and pessimism with the Mariners caused me to make the other decision to go harvest food.
I’d like to say that I learned something from all of this, and that it will never happen again; but I can’t make those kinds of promises, because things always come up and sometimes my skepticism outweighs what I probably should do. One thing is for sure; I will not forget this game, not ever, even though I didn’t actually see the best part.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to make a margarita and eat some tomatoes. I feel I have earned it.
EDIT: Anyone reading this post might have noticed I initially mentioned that the Hawks were playing Denver, rather than the Bears; that shows you exactly how much I care about football.