9 : 435 : 6 : 2
Tuesday morning was lightly dampened – and not just from the excessive and continued rain – by the news breaking out of New York regarding an ongoing FBI investigation into Cardinals employee/s involving a computer breach into the Astros’ database. Or something like that; the grapevine does wonders in the vast and unregulated world of mass media. Leave it to New York to dig their fingers in the dirt wherever possible.
Linnea-Irish and I weren’t too bothered. We stopped at Trader Joe’s for game snacks: yogurt stars and peanut butter cups on a day that couldn’t decide to hang its hat on the upper 70’s or lower 80’s. Makes a big difference as to whether purchasing chocolate is a good idea or not.
Downtown was swimming with Cards fans as usual. I guess they weren’t too bothered by premature news either.
“Where are all the FBI agents?” one man joked as we approached the gates.
“Oooh,” the man at the metal detector said after examining our bag of game time snacks. “You’ve got all kids of goodies in there!”
12:45 – first pitch.
Considering that it was likely to be my final in-person game before South America – I said that two weeks ago, too – I wasn’t going to let two rain delays send us home early. We would have stayed anyway, of course.
Between innings I checked email from my phone, hoping San Francisco would pull through as promised and give me news about our visas being processed. They didn’t.
Michael Wacha “Rain Man” left the game in the 7th as the rain poured for a second time, about to hit nine wins, tied for second in all of baseball. As we waited for the deluge to dissipated, Linnea and I made the move three levels down to hang around in “standing room only” for the remainder of the game. It paid off, because one of the ushers directed us to a row of unused folding chairs in the handicap section.
With the evening came another sobering event. After we pulled into the Big House driveway at seven o’clock, Mom and Puck shared the saddening news with us that much loved and loveable fourteen year-old grandpa bunny, Ketseh, had passed away that afternoon. Joining little Bonnie somewhere over the rainbow bridge
Not the best of days.