Why? Because rain meant no baseball.
Through my youth, there was probably nothing I loved more than baseball. I loved watching it. I loved practicing it. I loved playing it. I loved being around it. I used to look forward to my brother's practices and games, just so I could be at the field.
But rain (well, rain or cold, growing up in the Northeast and all) was the one thing that could take it away. If I was home, and the forecast was for rain, I'd hope that it was only raining where I lived, and not the town where we played our games, about seven miles away. I actually think that delusion bore fruit at least once or twice.
Now that I'm older, baseball has fallen down a little on the list. For one thing, I'm married, which is obviously on top, and I realize that rain is a necessary part of life, especially when I see stories about the epic drought in California. (Ironically, even during the massive drought, the Angels had their first home rainout in 20 years in July ... because baseball is like that.)
So rain is a thing that has to happen sometimes.
Just not on baseball days.
* * * * *
Last night, I was ending a boycott.
I had vowed that I would never attend Lowell Spinners game. Why? Because the Red Sox single-A team had something called the Yankees Elimination Project, where they bought uniforms for local youth baseball leagues that dropped teams with the name Yankees and replaced them with Spinners.
Yes, the rivalry is the rivalry and there's a lot of stuff on both sides that's largely in good fun, but this actually made me angry. As a Yankees fan who has lived in Massachusetts since 2003, most of what I've seen has been relatively harmless, but there is that group who believes any association with the Yankees means there's literally something wrong with you.
The Yankees Elimination Project, in my mind, was teaching kids that the Yankees were so bad, they literally had to be cast out. So, I decided I would never go to one of their games.
It wasn't that much of a problem, though. I had the Cape Cod League. Pawtucket was only an hour away. I should have gone to more Brockton Rox games.
I even made a few trips to Fenway. (While I obviously dislike the Red Sox, baseball games are baseball games, and if their games or their affiliates' games are what's around, I'll go, except for Lowell.)
I've even been able to hit Yankee Stadium for the thrill of seeing Stephen Drew play instead of that no-good Jeter guy.
Then I moved, and guess which team is the closest to where I live now?
Yup, the Lowell Spinners.
Fortunately, the problem was solved with an email ... the one that I believe actually came from the owner of the team, answering my query about the Yankees Elimination Project by letting me know they stopped the program a few years ago. If memory serves, interest had dropped off, and I think he was actually a bit sad about it.
So I could go to see the Spinners in good conscience, and once my work set up a night at the ballpark for last night, off to LeLacheur Park we went.
Even better, last night's opponent was the Staten Island Yankees.
My wife had noticed the raindrops first. We had just finished eating in the Home Plate BBQ when the sprinkles first fell.
The sprinkles quickly turned into a downpour that didn't stop for about a half-hour. We went inside and talked to a couple of my co-workers, but mostly I fumed, and not quietly. The delayed start was obvious, but we decided to check out the scene when we saw the tarp was off the infield.
It was not promising. The crew appeared to be five or six guys with squeegees and another with what looked like a leaf-blower, and it was all they could do to clear the standing water off the grass in shallow left field. It was no fault of the crew; it's not like the Lowell Spinners have the resources available to the Red Sox.
However, the longer it took, the more likely it was that there would be no baseball, even though the rain had stopped, and that became clear once the crew stopped out in left field. The game probably would have been called off sooner, but they had a bit of business to do first.
The world record was for the most people fist-bumping at one time, trying to "bump out cancer" in honor of Liam Fitzgerald, known for doing fist bumps with the Boston Bruins. My wife and I made our contributions, although the woman next to me, realizing I was wearing a Yankees hat, wondered if it would count if she "accidentally" punched me in the nose. I think she was kidding, and she accepted it when I said my fist-bump counted as much as anyone else's.
As soon as it ended, the announcement came that the game was called off. I was so ticked, I didn't even stay an hour for fireworks, and I never pass up a chance for fireworks.
Our tickets are good for any home game the rest of the season. I hope we go.
By the way ... today's weather? Perfect.
Of course.
Even better, last night's opponent was the Staten Island Yankees.
* * * * *
My wife had noticed the raindrops first. We had just finished eating in the Home Plate BBQ when the sprinkles first fell.
The sprinkles quickly turned into a downpour that didn't stop for about a half-hour. We went inside and talked to a couple of my co-workers, but mostly I fumed, and not quietly. The delayed start was obvious, but we decided to check out the scene when we saw the tarp was off the infield.
It was not promising. The crew appeared to be five or six guys with squeegees and another with what looked like a leaf-blower, and it was all they could do to clear the standing water off the grass in shallow left field. It was no fault of the crew; it's not like the Lowell Spinners have the resources available to the Red Sox.
However, the longer it took, the more likely it was that there would be no baseball, even though the rain had stopped, and that became clear once the crew stopped out in left field. The game probably would have been called off sooner, but they had a bit of business to do first.
There was a WORLD RECORD at LeLacheur Park tonight. #BumpOutCancer http://t.co/SXuSSF9DMk pic.twitter.com/dv3yaPqNYE
— Lowell Spinners (@LowellSpinners) August 22, 2015
The world record was for the most people fist-bumping at one time, trying to "bump out cancer" in honor of Liam Fitzgerald, known for doing fist bumps with the Boston Bruins. My wife and I made our contributions, although the woman next to me, realizing I was wearing a Yankees hat, wondered if it would count if she "accidentally" punched me in the nose. I think she was kidding, and she accepted it when I said my fist-bump counted as much as anyone else's.
As soon as it ended, the announcement came that the game was called off. I was so ticked, I didn't even stay an hour for fireworks, and I never pass up a chance for fireworks.
Our tickets are good for any home game the rest of the season. I hope we go.
By the way ... today's weather? Perfect.
Of course.
