Rockies 4, Cubs 3

The wind blew out, bringing Rockies’ home runs with it. The first two were thrown onto the field; the third Helton’s second of the night, got hit to green center, merely needing to bounce in its return to the field.

The structure on top of center field, next to its electronic peers in the upper deck, didn’t quite seem iconic. They weren’t in sync, with the legend behind the times. It couldn’t fit every Senior Circuit result, not even including every competition involving those in the Cubs’ division. Still, I didn’t need to know (though the electronic ones told me) the Bulls clinched something. I sort of minded the hockey score (1-0 in the first, the Cubs’ neighbors losing), though. Hockey is cool.

But let’s return to the green grid. It showed us four ones, once; the count 1-1, one out, Kosuke Fukudome hitting (turning thirty-four, music informed us). Super wild.

I noticed them removing the line scores for the White Sox when they finished, with just the end score left behind. But the column for the result is titled 10, in line with the 1-9 next to it!

The electronic sign directly under this didn’t impress me, either. There, I found out the Cubs’ fourth hitter got his 1,000th RBI on 4/10/10. Good for him, but did he do nothing else in the previous twelve months? Plus, their first hitter is hitting (.500) when hitting first. Still excellent, but why ()? It told us 38,261 were there, but this figure seemed quite high. They showed some promotion for keeping Wrigley green like the ivy. So, not green?

This isn’t to suggest the upper deck ones were so good. During the pre-competition music, it showed Old Glory in windy style, though wind blew plenty to begin with! It died down, though, until I could see retired numbers billowing in right field but not left. Might’ve just been some trick of my position.

The good news they showed, sort of, were digits next to the Cubs’ fourth relief pitcher; “5.59.” Not excellent, but when my scoresheet got printed, they were 8.10. He, if nothing else, showed up on the roster list. This didn’t hold for their first reliever who just got brought up from the minors, very recently indeed. This boded poorly. Though he wound up pitching fine, going two innings while conceding no runs on one hit.

Enough of the scores, then. Other things I noticed:

The Cubs’ shortstop writing stuff in the dirt before the top of the first.
The Rockies’ second hitter (fielding second, too), putting some kind of big plus sign in the box in the top of the first.
The beer vendor conversing with the guy in front of me, wondering if someone they both knew would be there for the next home series.
Five guys with instruments, moving from section to section, performing between innings.
People cheering for outfielders to throw them souvenirs. I thought they were trying to get everyone to get up, section by section. Shows where I’m from, I guess.
“95th,” doubly reversed, blinking, next to my reflection in the window, with blue light from the Red Line lighting up the city beyond.

Cubs 4, Rockies 0

We saw his breath as it soared from its mouth,
Too personally. The camera zoomed in
But they cut elsewhere after things went south.
(Not very far, though. He still got the win.)

We sighed a little after the bid failed,
Wishing we could share the triumph, despite
Having flinched when we’d seen his breath exhaled.
Sharing can be a dream, or not feel right.

Only after the hit, and when they took
Him out, did the fans clap the loudest. I
Wasn’t too surprised, as I tried to look
At them, but something else had caught my eye.

The stands’ camera couldn’t have been the main
One. Its image was blurred. I stared at rain.