Don-o and the Wall
Daily Log of a Fresh-faced College Graduate
May 9, 2013
Stepping into Elysian Fields is not like stepping into any other park we’ve seen. It’s totally dominated by the short right field wall – only 331’ and 341’ in the shallow power zones, but at 34′ tall, it’s an impressive tin slab. It’s 11:00 a.m. as we step into the park for a 2:30 game, and Don-o stands transfixed as he drinks it in. “Jesus H. Christ.” he finally says. The grounds crew outnumbers fans at this moment, and an attendant sees the way the wall affects Don-o. He steps over and touches Don-o before he speaks. “Do you want to go down and touch it?”
“Yes,” Don-o says. It’s like he’s in another zone.
That’s how we get down to the field. Don-o presses himself up against the wall. For a moment, I get the image of him disappearing into that pane of green that stretches it seems to infinity. I realize all of a sudden that the image is not drug-induced at all, that in fact I’m not tripping or wigging out or anything and that I haven’t had any interest in it for… well, since Don-o freaked.
I touch the wall and feel its warmth as the sun peeks out from behind the sun. It’s green paint holds heat well and it feels like an electric blanket against the cool breeze that swirls around the park. I step back. The Nutmeggers come out to the field to begin loosening up, and the stadium speakers crackle as the sound system gets tested.
Don-o is still hugging the wall.
The attendant looks at me as if to ask what he should do. I wrap a hand over Don-o’s shoulder and break suction. He looks startled to find himself in the outfield of Elysian Fields and blinking into the sun that has once again appeared from behind a bit of cloud.
“We gotta get,” I say.
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It’s obvious that the San Antonio Calzones of Laredo are going nowhere in 2013. They are 11-23 on May 9 and their only player making more than $750K is on the disabled list.
I’m interested in seeing rookie shortstop Kenneth Bridges, a late-round draft pick who has shot up through the team’s minor league system. He’s struggling now but looks like he can hit in the few games I’ve been able to pick up on bar TV screens. Pedro Marrero is another guy I’m interested in. He’s another rookie – the counterpoint to Bridges. He’s been beat about in the minor leagues for years, having to prove himself everywhere he went despite being a second round pick. He’s been traded twice and finally made the bigs on the strength of seven dingers and a 1.074 OPS in 74 at bats in Joplin. I like Bridges, but it’s hard not to root for Marrero.
We sit next to a dude who looks as dried up as a sun-beat prune, but he knows his Calzone-neep. He keeps talking about these two, and about AAA kids Carlos Miranda – who he says should be playing first for the team this year – and speed-burner Ben Wagner – who he just wants to watch run.
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The official attendance is listed as 4,854, but I’m pretty sure I can count the actual number in the triple digits. This doesn’t suck, really, because it means we get to sit where we want. I say I want to start behind the third base dugout, and we watch the first inning there. Before the game is out, though, we’ll move to behind the plate and then up to the gunwale that leads to the press box. Seeing a game in Laredo these days, it seems, is the best of both worlds – major league players and minor league ambiance.
Marrero is playing first base today and starts the scoring with a drive over that wall that plates Jarred Curran, who had doubled off that wall earlier. It’s looking like a rough day for Connecticut starter Ed O’Bryan, but he gets out of the inning without further bloodletting, and against the Calzones, that’s generally a pretty good sign.
The Calzones’ starter is Augusto Torres. He’s an interesting pitcher to watch because he really doesn’t have much on any particular pitch. In fact, I’ve seen better curves in the minors… and better cutters, screwballs, splitters, fastballs, changes and sinkers. But that doesn’t faze Torres at all. The guy has made a career outta throwing them all. That’s right – he throws about every pitch known to man except the knuckler, and I wouldn’t put that past him. He’s 29-40 over his five-year career, which ain’t nothing special, but he’s making $600K this year. Not a bad gig if you can get it.
Torres gives back a run in the Nutmeggers’ second when Augusto Valdéz homers. The third sees him walk Pedro González and then leave a slider up in the zone to Ronald Lowry, who plants one over the right field fence. Connecticut is up 3-2, and it’s just going to get worse. Samuel Kettley touches Torres for a three-run job in the 5th, and with O’Bryan settled down, the Calzones are pretty well baked.
The game finishes like that: 6-2 Connecticut.
We are probably the last guys out of the park. As we leave, Don-o hesitates, staring back at the green-green wall. He breathes deeply and looks like he’s leaving his mother. For just a moment, I thought I might actually lose him. For a moment, I thought he might make a break for it, might run down the aisle and onto the field and crash into that wall. For a moment, I thought that if he did that, Don-o might actually disappear into that wall, that it might just suck him in, eat him… or absorb him is a better thought; that the wall in Elysian Fields might welcome him in, accept him for all his problems.
For a moment, I thought that maybe Don-o had found his home. Then it was gone, and we turn away.
He asks me to drive, so we get into Annie and he just sits there as I head to the hotel.