It’s a tiny crowd, 17,000 or so according to Atlanta’s Journal-Constitution. Possibly it is that many, but it’s a big stadium and it looks far from full. Washington’s first run is quick, a first-inning Adam Dunn RBI, but Josh Willingham grounds to third for two quick outs.
Atlanta’s first run is a solo shot, as is run #2. Nothing much occurs in innings 3 through 6–outs occur fairly quickly.
Now and again, sound blasts down on us for tomahawk chops. It is not as jarring as worry would put it, though it’s slightly odd to sit unmoving amidst such motion. Still, without knowing what it is, it just looks funny (and sounds too loud for this small of a crowd, but that’s okay)–a fan tradition, nothing wrong with that.
As is my standard, I’m scoring as I go, but without much room to do so. Scrunching up 1Bs and BBs, I track Nationals’ locations. A hit to shortstop–Paul Simon (that’s how his autograph looks, anyway) falls on his stomach failing to pick it up, and stays horizontal as Washington’s tying run rounds third.
But Atlanta’s third solo shot pulls it forward again, and its fourth is soon to occur. A walk, a hit, and Paul Simon is put on only to bring up a guy with two clouts so far that night. It’s a walk, to bring in Brian McCann. (Both RBI guy Adam and McCann sport oddly many capitals–bring on McLouth!)
So it’s a 6-2 final, a quick night out. I wasn’t rooting for anybody, and couldn’t ask for anything too distinct from this.