by Cathy Hedgecock

Wild Streaking Ride

Well, I never … Oh my God … Absolutely it was … the most bizarre and wonderful game imaginable.

I feel privileged to have attended Wednesday’s record-breaking game between the A’s and the Kansas City Royals. Both sides played superbly and horribly. No one gave up, not the A’s in claiming their 20th straight win, nor the Royals, who came so close in their role as spoilers. Nothing was normal or predictable, as befits a never-before situation. And yet, it all fit the A’s perfectly. For starters, who else would be playing to a rare sold-out crowd of 55,000 plus on $1 night – for bleacher seats and hot dogs – with a joint promotion from the local public transit system? That’s Oakland, and proud of it. Gritty, tough, stretching every dollar, always the underdogs.

The Coliseum where the A’s play is in the middle of that grit, in an industrial area surrounded by freeways, barred-window houses, and security fenced businesses. The front gates of the Coliseum are lovely and inviting, and usually we can cruise in and park on the nice blacktop. But with two or three times the usual crowd, it took an extra hour to reach the furthest overflow parking, which I never knew existed. The Coliseum’s lot sprawls seemingly for miles, where Raider football fans spread themselves out for tailgate parties. We finally parked way back amid gravel, barbed wire fencing, and a line of power poles.

It was a fitting, if disappointing, way to start such a strange night. The first inning, a six-run drubbing by the A’s, happened while we were hiking in. On the other hand, that inning took so long that we were in our seats for the second inning. Everyone in the stands was in a mellow mood, settling in for a rout. The A’s proceeded to add five more runs in the next two innings, and I started predicting a 19-1 win. In the back of my mind, that sounded kind of boring, but a victory and a record-breaking game would be worth the tedium.

We in the crowd were so busy enjoying the perceived win that we actually did the Wave. No one does the wave in Oakland; they’re too cool for that. And we almost blew it. All of a sudden the Royals’ big zero was gone. They had scored five runs in the fourth inning, and it was all because of the Wave. Too many people doing it, and too many amateurs. A’s fans have to learn from some other city how to Wave responsibly.

We shook up the feng shui so much that it literally knocked the A’s off their game. They were falling here, dropping the ball there, bone heading on some easy plays. A close pitch near Jermaine Dye’s head shifted the momentum again, and all the scoring stopped for awhile. But now we fans weren’t taking anything for granted. We were pulling for the team.

It’s the best fan experience, I think, when that happens. I wasn’t feeling sorry for the Royals anymore. They didn’t look hapless; they were sneaky and effective. The rows of people around us had bonded. Only one drunken jerk – there’s always one – yelled a few insults at Miguel Tejada. Such was not only pointless, it didn’t reflect our feelings. These were our guys and they needed our support.

We stomped and yelled and clapped, but the Royals had another big inning in the eighth. They loaded the bases, and scored two runs. Then first baseman Mike Sweeney had a big at-bat, and I knew it was trouble.

That’s one thing I have learned from playing fantasy baseball. If a good hitter keeps fouling off the strikes, he’s going to get “lucky.” And there it was, a high fly that looked like it would drift foul but didn’t: A three-run homer. The crowd went from yelling for that third strike to silence. It’s amazing how quiet 55,000 people can be.

A friend who was with Lawr and me was having anxiety attacks as the ninth rolled around. “Just hold them, just hold them,” she squeaked, peeking through her fingers. But the Royals wouldn’t be held and tied the game at 11.

Bullets were being sweated in the stands. The A’s had taught us to keep the faith all the way to the end, but hope was tested. A tie could mean at worst extra innings, but the Royals were still up with a runner in scoring position. Billy Koch, the A’s closing pitcher, was one strike from ending the inning. Koch struggled all the way to a full count, three balls and two strikes, requiring a deciding pitch. Would he walk the batter or strike him out? Could he do it? Was this the end of the line, the end of the streak in front of the A’s largest regular season crowd ever at home?

But Koch never threw that final pitch. The base runner at second made a mistake, started to run too early, and got picked off. The pile of mental errors made throughout the game mushroomed with that one. The only thing to do was gasp and then cheer.

Again, we in the seats could feel the momentum shift toward the A’s. No one wanted to jinx it with a prediction, but there it was. It was “Tejada time,” bottom of the ninth and everything on the line. Too much pressure for most of us; that’s why we watch others go through it.

First was Dye, a good at-bat with lots of fouls, but when his hit came, it came up short, a high fly out. Then Scott Hatteberg. Before anyone could say, “Scott who?” he hit the second pitch up, up, and away. I was so busy cheering I didn’t see him round the bases. I had to watch it again on the scoreboard replay.

I can’t remember ever working up such an appetite as a spectator. I’ve never witnessed such a roller coaster game with so much on the line. And I’ve never seen anyone lose a cell phone at a huge stadium, as our friend did, and then retrieve it later from a discarded tub of garlic fries. It was that kind of night.

I know this will settle in as an historic achievement that I witnessed, but now it just seems like a great baseball game. History is one of those things that happens long ago and far away. I can only say it’s inspiring to watch talented people play with and against the best and never give up.

photo is of cath in front of boston harbor (tea party spot
right behind). she wrote a great column
http://creativesports.com/fbr/hedgecock020704.shtml about that trip and
fenway, by the way.

Bio:

Catherine Hedgecock is a Bay Area writer, and teacher. Cathy has been a
staff writer for the Contra Costa Times and the Stockton Record
newspapers,
an editor for AOL and the San Francisco Daily Journal legal newspaper, a
columnist for the Tripod web site, and a reporter for USA Today. Catherine
holds a BA in journalism from San Francisco State University, and an MA in
English from California State University, Hayward. She has been a
journalism
and English classroom assistant at both Diablo Valley College and CSU
Hayward and is the journalism professor at College of Marin. Catherine has
completed a collection of short stories titled The Draping Effect.

Cathy currently writes a weekly column at www.creativesports.com a site
that
caters to fantasy sports fans. The column, “A View From the Hedge”
chronicles not only her first season playing roto ball, but does it from a
feminine perspective–one unique to the game so far. Cathy manages all of
this while also undergoing regular treatment for a recurrance of Breast
Cancer (attend the Athletics’ September 15 Breast Cancer Awareness Day
game
versus the Mariners!!! She will).