Hope Eternal, Part 4
Read Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 of Hope Eternal
Recollections from an evening in the west side of Laredo, TX
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
The Calzones had new life, and the game moved on. And on. And on. Neither team mounted much of a threat through the next three and a half innings. Much to Isabel’s surprise, the Calzones’ bullpen, as tattered, beaten and exhausted from overuse as it was, continued to rise to the occasion. José Ocasio pitched the 10th and 11th innings, not allowing a run. Closer Artie Herman came on to dominate the 12th and 13th innings, striking out four.
In the bottom of the 13th, it looked as if the Calzones might finally break through and end the game. A double and walk gave them a pair of base runners with no outs. Hicks sacrificed the runners over to 2nd and 3rd with a perfect bunt. London was forced to intentionally walk Miranda to set up the force at any base.
Now the Calzones had the bases loaded with one out, and Isabel was beside herself with excitement. Left-handed hitting catcher Emílio González came to the plate to face the Underground’s right-handed reliever Guillermo López. The odds seemed to be in the Calzones’ favor. A simple fly out would end the game, as the runner at third was the speedy Enrique Herrera.
“Augh!” bellowed the young girl as González popped out to third base for the second out of the inning on the very first pitch he saw. Isabel marked the scorecard and shook her head with some degree of frustration.
The young infielder Árias came to the plate again. Isabel sat and watched nervously. “Come on George, just a base hit,” Isabel pleaded. Árias swung at the 0-1 pitch and hit a fly ball deep to left. Isabel watched first excitedly as the ball carried near the wall, then dejectedly as Underground leftfielder Rory Baker made a sensational diving effort and snared the ball out of the air for the final out. “Damn!” She marked her scorecard. What the heck do we have to do to win a game?
When Ed Stanley came out to pitch the 14th inning, he became the Calzones’ eighth pitcher of the night. Not much left in the pen now.
Neither team did much in their at bats in the 14th and 15th innings. But in the 16th, with Stanley still working on the hill for the Calzones, Dennis Carter’s two-out bases loaded single plated two runs for the Underground.
Not again, thought Isabel. Not another loss. So close, yet so far. The story of the Calzones in 2014, or so it seems.
But it wasn’t over yet. Despite the seeming setback, Isabel would never give up hope. Not until the final out was recorded. Isabel reached down and patted Roger on the head. “We need another rally, Roger.”
Isabel nervously scrolled through the final scores from that night’s PEBA action. All of the other games had already been completed, while the Calzones seemed determined to drag out their own death roll as long as they possibly could. She checked the comments on her blog, most of which were decidedly negative after the events in the top half of the 16th inning. She was tempted to type a response, but at this point in the evening, she didn’t have the energy. She stared back at the television. When… when are we ever going to have a team that I can really get excited about?
The bottom of the 16th inning started, and to everyone’s surprise, the Underground were sticking with López, who had entered the game in the 11th inning. He can’t have much left, thought Isabel.
Miranda led off the inning with a single, and Isabel became slightly hopeful that the Calzones might yet find a way to win the game. When González walked on four pitches, giving the Calzones runners at first and second with no outs, she became that much more excited. “Come on, George. Just keep the line moving.” And Árias accommodated, smashing a hot ground ball down the first base line, where it rolled into the right field corner. Miranda scored easily and González pulled into third base while Árias pulled up at second base with a double.
“Yes!” screamed Isabel. “That’s the way.” She marked her scorecard. Runners at 2nd and 3rd with no outs. We’re going to win this yet.
“What time is it, mija?” asked a weary Rosa, who had been awakened by Isabel’s excitement.
“Almost midnight, Mommy” replied Isabel, who was feeling somewhat ashamed for having awakened her mother.
“The game is not finished yet?” Rosa asked her daughter.
“No, Mommy. Extra innings. It’s the 16th inning.”
“Aye, Dios mio,” Rosa whispered quietly. “When will it finish, mija?”
“Soon, Mommy,” Isabel replied.
Rosa looked wearily at the television and then closed her eye again. Isabel watched as the Underground gave Hayes the unintentional intentional walk to load the bases with nobody out. The Underground were now going to change the pitcher, and the game went to a commercial break. Isabel was nearly numb and most of all drained, and the game was not even over yet.
The game returned and Clancy O’connell was announced as the new Underground pitcher. Isabel felt even more excited. This bum? There’s no way he gets out of this mess. Bases jammed, no outs. We need one to tie, two to win.
Howard was first to face the new Underground hurler. When he struck out swinging, Isabel’s face landed in her palms. Unreal. Absolutely unreal. This guy couldn’t break glass if he was throwing with a tailwind, and Howard strikes out. You’ve got to be kidding me.
Isabel’s confidence sunk. She knew the game was a lot different with one out than with no outs. A double play here could end it. But just as quickly as hopes sank, back they rose again as Lonnie Davis took the first pitch the opposite way and dumped a base hit into short right field. González crossed the plate with the tying run, and the bases remained loaded. Should have sent Árias, Isabel thought. 16th inning with a chance to win it. Force the issue. Well, at least the game is tied.
O’Connell then struck out Pedro Marrero for the second out of the inning. Are you kidding me? Another strikeout? Isabel marked the scorecard with the second out and tapped her pen nervously on the desk. “Come on, guys, let’s win this thing.” She then watched helplessly as José Hernández hit a weak humpback liner right to the first basemen, who didn’t even have to move to record the final out of the inning. For the second time in the long evening, the Calzones had tied the game with two runs in what was seemingly their last chance. But as they had all night – and seemingly all season – they failed to capitalize on their opportunities.
Stanley remained on the mound into the top half of the 17th inning, but it was apparent that he was gassed. After he walked his second batter of the inning with two outs, Calzones manager Rafael García finally came to get his pitcher. Isabel looked wearily at the television. What else do we have? He has to be looking out there for a starter. But who?
Isabel looked at her scorecard as the television went to a commercial break while the Calzones made the pitching change. Bush? Miller? Scott? I don’t know what García has in mind, but the pen is toast. Isabel looked at the clock in the corner of the computer screen. 12:18 a.m. It had been a long night, and it wasn’t over yet.
The game returned, and Isabel could see Miller on the mound taking his warm up tosses. Great, thought Isabel, he is tomorrow’s starter. So who starts the finale of the series if we waste Miller here?
Switch-hitting Orlando Germán was due up. Isabel’s laughed quietly to herself as her memory flashed back to her mother’s comment about the switch-hitting Howard earlier in the evening. She watched as Germán lined the 1-1 pitch to right field for a base hit. Isabel’s heart sank as the runner rounded third. She stared at the runner digging for home, where he was met by a perfect throw from the right fielder Hernández and the tag by González. “Yes!” exclaimed Isabel. “Way to go, José. Yes!” Isabel smiled as the inning ended. What a game, she thought to herself.
Sherman Hicks led off the bottom half of the 17th inning. Soft tossing Clancy O’Connell and his repertoire of off-speed garbage were still on the mound. Isabel stared at the television.
“O’connell works from the windup. He delivers… Hicks with a swing, a long drive… say goodnight, folks; this one is over! Hicks with his third home run of the season, a laser beam to right centerfield that left the yard in a hurry. Hicks is mobbed by his teammates at home plate as he ends this marathon with one swing of the bat.”
Isabel pumped her fist and bounced excitedly in her chair as she marked the game-winning hit on her scorecard. She watched the replay of the home run and listened to the announcers hurried recap to the 17-inning game. As the game went off the air, a drained but happy Isabel picked up the television remote and clicked off the power. She reached over and tapped her mother on the shoulder. “Mommy, it’s over,” said Isabel to her weary mother.
Rosa blinked her eyes, and raised her head from the pillow. “Who won, mija?” she asked her daughter.
“We did, Mommy. Hicks with a home run in the 17th inning,” replied Isabel, smiling.
“Did he hit it to the opposite field, then?” asked Rosa.
“Yes, Mommy, something like that,” Isabel replied. “Go to bed, Mommy. I’m going to bed now, also.”
Rosa stood up from the bed and steadied herself. She leaned over and moved her cheek near to her daughter, who leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Good night, Mommy,” said the young girl.
Rosa looked at the time. “Aye, it’s almost morning already,” said a weary Rosa. “Good night, mija. I love you.” With that, Rosa Padilla stumbled wearily towards the hallway and towards the comfort of her own bed.
Isabel prepared herself for sleep, basking in the joy of the rare Calzones win. As she crawled into bed, her thoughts shifted from the exciting win to the pending Saturday afternoon game. As she drifted off to sleep, her thoughts shifted to dreams. In her dream, she felt the warmth of the afternoon sun on her face as she stood on the perfectly green grass of Elysian Fields. She heard the PA announcer call her name. “Now batting for the Calzones: Eee-zah-bell Pah-dee-yaaaa!” She felt the excitement of the adrenaline rush as she stepped to the plate, the satisfaction of a bat in her hands making solid contact with a baseball as she lined a hit into centerfield, the wind in her hair as she raced around the bases, the fastest thing on two legs.
The young Isabel continued to dream, as she would always. And as she dreamed, she lived.