Wet Sox

Yesterday afternoon I wrote and then deleted a whiny post about the prospects for last night's Sox game, which we had tickets to. It had been overcast and sprinkling off and on all day, and I had prepared a list of possible outcomes from the best ("The weather miraculously clears up and we have a great night—and the Sox win!") to the worst ("We schlep all the way to Fenway, and then they postpone the game, and we sit there like idiots in the rain for 2 hours until they send us home."). So ... guess which scenario came to pass? Yep.

We had only 4 tickets, so Julie stayed with Barbara and Jerry (another component of Julie's recent sleep disturbances is a desire to go to bed earlier and earlier every night—we have to persuade her to wait until 7:00—so she was not even remotely disappointed that she couldn't go). Andy, Pete, Steph, and I grabbed a bite at O'Leary's and tried not to fret about the continued light rain as we headed over to Fenway to watch Jon Lester pitch against Tampa Bay.

The game was supposed to begin at 7:10, but it was 7:16 by the time they got the tarp off. Lester got off to a very rocky start, and the bases were loaded after the first three batters. Then, at 7:28, it started to pour, and they called for a rain delay. Back came the tarp! The heavy rain lasted only about 10 minutes, but they still didn't resume play. We sat there for an hour of no rain (or perhaps the lightest of sprinkling) wondering why they weren't playing. Then the rain got heavy again, and still we sat. Luckily, our seats are just under the overhang of the above box, so we were out of the actual rain, although the wind did whip a fine spray into our faces, and it was chilly.

We kept thinking that someone in a decision-making position must be watching the weather radar and have a good feeling that the rain was going to pass, so we waited. And waited some more. We waited while the PA system played every rain-related song you've ever imagined ("Raindrops Keeping Fallin' on My Head" is now permanently stuck in my brain). We waited while the couple behind us drank at least eight $7 beers each. We waited while they showed the Detroit-Toronto game on the JumboTron.

Finally, at 9:30, as the rain really started to come down, we cried "Uncle." Steph was furious, because she was convinced that as soon as we left, play would resume—and indeed, why would they be keeping us there if there wasn't at least a glimmer of hope that it would?—but we just couldn't see them unrolling the tarp and warming up Lester again only to get started after 10pm. We headed out, and by the time we got to the car, we heard that the game had indeed been officially called on account of rain just minutes after we left.

We were really annoyed! Granted, we didn't travel far, but some people sure did—they must have been livid! Did they keep us there just to make money for the concessions? They should have canceled the game at 4pm and not dragged every down there—and not made Lester waste a good warm-up and 20 pitches.

So there's a regularly scheduled game tonight, which we don't have tickets to. The regularly scheduled game tomorrow at 1:35 has been moved back to 5:05, and our tickets will be good for a game that will be played tomorrow at 12:05. I think they got this completely backward. All those people who had tickets to the 1:35 game are now going to an evening game, which is probably not going to work for plenty of them (I saw a comment online last night from a guy who was planning to drive up from New Jersey for the 1:35 game and then drive back; now he's faced with a late-night drive home). It seems more likely that someone who was planning to go to a 1:35 game could just as easily go to a 12:05 game, and those of us who had been planning to go to last night's game could probably go to a Sunday night game. Also, not for nothing, but Lester is pitching the 5:05 game, and I really would have liked to see him for more than half an inning (and a lousy half at that); we'll get Buchholtz instead at 12:05.

I haven't yet figured out how we'll work it out tomorrow, between Hebrew school and soccer practices (and a looming deadline for me), but at least the weather looks like it'll cooperate. (Speaking of weather, it's still raining now, and I even heard some thunder, so I wasn't surprised to learn that Pete and Julie won't have their first soccer games of the season this afternoon. Barbara and Jerry, on the other hand, are currently on their way down to the Cape for a Wampanoag beach wedding ... oy!)

Comments

[JP]

Jeepers, they really screwed up the Sunday schedule.

[Baseball Wife]

That is a bummer to sit around all that time waiting! Though you might like to know that resuming a game is up to the head umpire, not anyone at the Red Sox. They were just warming up their pitcher in case the umpires decided to proceed. The umpires watch the radar and look at local weather reports to determine whether to go ahead with the game. It is always their intention to proceed, and they will wait for hours to try to get the game in. They also determine when the next game is played, albeit with input from both teams. Believe me, I know the feeling...I am often waiting for my husband to return from these seemingly unending rain-delayed games. Sometimes the rain delay lasts longer than the actual game would have!