Contrasts

Liz and I enjoyed a nice evening of baseball last night. Rain threatened, but the umbrellas were only out during pre-game activities. Our guys won rather convincingly, and used quite a few tools to do it. In the eighth, a walk, stolen base, sacrifice bunt and suicide squeeze scored one run, followed up by a towering homer. Little ball and big ball. Big fun.

The folks sitting next to me came down from Frederick (we were playing the Keys, a Baltimore Oriole farm club), and it was cool to talk to them. They're just as committed to "their boys" as the regulars are for our guys. One of the Keys coaches came by before the game and shook hands and said hello, he recognized them from the dugout. I love minor league baseball for things like that.

The night before last, the Washington National's closer was assigned to Potomac to pitch an inning as rehab before being activated from the disabled list. He came in, threw nothing but fastballs and was rocked for five runs in one inning. By single-A players. The Keys went through the whole lineup on him. He'll probably be back with the parent team tomorrow.

The folks who sit behind us have had season tickets for years and years. They host a couple of players each year in their home and have all the inside news. One of the pitchers was released (a 12.something ERA isn't going to cut it at any level). He was a Canadian kid and headed home immediately to find a job. As soon as he got home, he signed with the Toronto organization and did a u-turn back to the Florida instructional league. Good for him, I wish him luck. Honestly though, by next year he'll probably be out of baseball for good, unless he hooks up with a college as a coach somewhere.

Last year's manager was Randy Knorr and he was friendly and outgoing. This year it's Trent Jewett and he's the exact opposite. Maybe he'll lighten up as the season progresses.