Yeah, about that great pitching...

My impressions:

Great to meet up with Gray again for a ballgame, even though he was dressed for a Decemberists show. It was also fun to meet Ken finally. I’m not sure how many MLB teams do this kind of game, but it’s a fantastic idea. For fans of the Reds organization, there was always something to look for and celebrate on each play.

They’ve done some renovations to Five Counties Field since last I went and, overall, I think they’ve done a fine job with respect to seating, concessions, and field view. It’s a very simple park with pretty good sight lines and a nice compact feel. On the downside, the video board looked pretty grimy and obviously hadn’t been repixelated since it was last used. The PA system was terribly uneven: it was too quiet in some spots and loud as fuck in others.

Of the Reds players, BP, Volquez and DR Herrera looked to have the most rapport with the fans. Volquez was finishing his day-after workouts when they were introducing the Reds team. He made it to the line just before his name was called as a reserve (you’ll notice he’s not on the 3rd base line in Gray’s pic above). When his name was called he didn’t move a muscle, waited a few seconds, then did a half turn while throwing his arms up in the air. It made all the little kids laugh.

The weather was odd: bright and blustery. It must have been hellish in the outfield. Going by all the detritus that was swirling out there, I would say that the Reds outfielders have a small excuse for misplaying some of the balls that got up in the air. Martin the Mudcat, who is (get this) the Mudcats’ mascot, failed to launch two t-shirts into the stands from his shirt cannon and nearly had a third pushed back on to the field if not for the proverbial superhuman agility of an individual who wants free shit. So, really, the Reds outfield was only as inept as an encostumed teenager in meth country North Carolina. Steve Holt!

Always cool to see so many Reds fans so far from Ohio. Gray and I sat next to a very nice gentleman and his son who knew enough about the Reds system that I assumed he was a Reds fan. In fact, he was a Cubs fan. I should have known he wasn’t a Reds fan when he mentioned that the Reds made a mistake in not resigning Dunn. We did enjoy fellowship in making fun of Dusty. He was very high on Darnell McDonald and Chris Dickerson.

My heart was set a flutter only twice last night. The first occurred when Todd Frazier came to bat and the opening riff of Neil Young’s “Ohio” blasted out over the PA. What a bad ass choice for at bat music. Kickass Reds prospect likes ‘em Young? Very likely. Two innings later, however, I noticed that “Ohio” preceded the at bat of El Nino Destructor. Hmm. That seemed less likely ( /that’s racist!). Then it introduced Ramon Hernandez on the Reds at the bottom of the inning. By the sixth inning or so, “Ohio” introduced every other hitter on either team. Gray hypothesized that the PA operator had selected the song based merely on the title alone and had not, unfortunately, paid much attention to the lyrics. By the end of the night, however, the story of a massacre seemed — albeit distantly and metaphorically — relevant. The fact that the players hadn’t chosen their own at bat music was disappointing, but it did make me feel better about Drew Stubbs always coming up to the Bangles “Eternal Flame.”

The right field foul pole at Five Counties is 309 and about a 12 foot wall. It’s called “Catfish Corner.” In very little time, however, it will be rechristened “Way Out Yonder.” Alonso’s power stroke is something to behold. After getting him off-balance with some off-speed stuff, Arroyo tried to put an inside fastball past Alonso in the first inning. He crushed that pitch. Francisco’s swing was similarly impressive but it looked (in last night’s at bats at least) that El Nino Destructor gets the ball up in the air more, but he does have significant gap power.

As Gray mentioned, the 1-6 hitters for the Futures team were an impressive group. It made me giddy to think of them actually batting 1-6 in the bigs. Although I’ve fawned over Alonso and Francisco, the player who impressed me the most was Chris Heisey leading off. He looks confident at the plate, squares the ball up nicely, has doubles power, and looks to be a very efficient base runner.

On a night that was focused on the bright future of Reds baseball, however, my biggest thrill came from its storied past. While waiting in line for another Icehouse, i caught a glimpse of Eric Davis, striding in front of the dugout in his crisp #44 jersey. I’ve heard many, many times that he looks like he could still play, but it’s still shocking to see in person. He’s a physical freak. Seeing Davis walk out of the Reds dugout, as if to take center field, was an absolute rush. The excitement was of that pure childhood stock that gets harder and harder to find as you get older. I thought about all the 9 and 10 year olds around the park who had lost their minds when Brandon Phillips had run down the 3rd base line earlier in the evening giving high fives.. I thought how far away their experience seemed to me then, and how close it seemed now. How badly I wanted to jump the fence and give him a high five.

It’s moments like this — the almost literal representation of a line stretching from the present back to the past and from past into the future — that keeps you grounded in a team despite the frustration, the losing, and all the other carnival acts of human folly. However cynically we might regard the cross-promotion of baseball and family, we must at least admit that there is a fundamental reason that baseball and family are so often bound together in the American mind: their dynamism is the same.