When I teach my kids about baseball, I'll get to say, "I was there."
When I teach my grandkids about titanic athletes, I will be able to say, "I was there."
When I take my family to Cooperstown on a mini-vacation, I'll be able to point to certain memorabilia and say, "I was there."
And when people ask me about The Second Coming, I will simply say, "I was there."
Jesus has officially arrived in Washington, D.C. Or should I say, Stras-Vegas? Stephen Strasburg's major league debut occurred on Tuesday, June 8, 2010 -- and I was there to be a witness to the moment's greatness.
Washington, D.C. caught Strasburg Fever ever since the draft last year. Everyone pondered when he would throw his heat in the majors. There had been talk about this kid for years. Touted as the best arm to come along in decades. He proved himself in the minors, blanking his opponents time and time again. The hype intensified as reports came in from the farm as to his speed, his control and his placement. Word got out that he might debut on June 4th against the Reds, and the game nearly sold out. When that didn't happen, Nats Town got a little red in the face. But then, Districtwide, a choir of angels could be heard. Trumpets sounded. It was finally announced -- we could all wish each other a Merry Strasmas on June 8th.
Tickets went quickly. Too quickly. I nearly didn't get any! And to top it off, I paid an exorbitant amount of money for the tickets I did get. After paying $5-20 to see my local team, I was shocked to pay $43 for a Tuesday night game. Against the Pittsburgh Pirates. The PIRATES. The Pirates do not qualify for "premium game" prices! However, I sucked it up because I knew I would witness history. I had Strasburg Fever.
On the morning of the 8th, I got up early. Long before my alarm sounded, I was up and about with a smile on my face. It was Christmas morning in June, and Stephen Strasburg was waiting for me, tied up in a little bow. Dressed in red, I made it to Nats Park, my home away from home these past two years. I couldn't believe the sight. Who are these people??? The stadium was positively overrun. Now, I've seen the place crowded. The Red Sox and Phillies bring the dregs of D.C. society into the Park; but this night was different. This night, everyone was in red. The number "37" was everywhere. Strasburg Fever had become an epidemic.
The atmosphere became electric when the theme to HBO's miniseries "John Adams" began to sound. The game was about to begin. He was about to take the mound. All of a sudden, a tall, lanky figure emerged from the bullpen. It was Him. It was really Him. The Front Office didn't dupe us. Strasburg was actually about to throw a pitch in the majors. Holy crap.
He took the mound. Pittsburgh's McCutchen was the first to see the kid's stuff. The first pitch came and went in the blink of an eye. Ball. What?! That wasn't the way the fairy tale was supposed to go. Oh well, the game isn't ONE pitch. The wind-up... the pitch.... Ball two. FOR REAL?! All of a sudden, all the fans who were on their feet for the past thirty minutes screaming Strasburg's name took their seats. Pudge gave the signal, Strasburg squared up, and the ball flew. The sound of the bat making contact scared us all, but we were comforted by the sight of the ball landing safely in the shortstop's glove.
One away. Perfect game still intact.
Yes, the Fever made us that delirious that we thought this was a possibility. We weren't that far off. By the end of the night, #37 gave us as close to a perfect baseball experience as a 21-year-old rookie could muster. 24 batters faced. 7 innings pitched. 4 hits. 2 runs, both earned. 1 home run. 0 walks. 14 strikeouts. Only two other rookies had more in their debut with 15 Ks. However, the kid still made history by breaking the Nationals' strikeout record by one.
And what's more, reliever Clippard and closer Capps seemed inspired by his performance. Peaches lead off the 8th with a single, but struck out the next two batters and drew a pop fly to right to end the inning. Capps added to the strikeout count with one of his own, followed by two infield outs. At the end of this historic evening, the Nats bullpen combined for 17 strikeouts.
The lineup also did their job. Other than Strasburg, the man of the evening was our usual star, Ryan Zimmerman. The third baseman was the first to put a run on the board with a solo home run to centerfield in the first inning. He would score again twice more, helping the Nats win 5-3. Adam Dunn and Josh "Hammer" Willingham each had home runs of their own. Dunn's landed in the upper deck of right field. Even the team had Strasburg Fever.
Not surprisingly, the winning pitcher was the Player of the Game, earning a pie to the face. Twice. As well as the honor of wearing Nyjer Morgan's silver pompadour.
The Fever did not break right away. The next morning I woke up with pain in my right shoulder. When a friend voiced her concern I said, "It's okay. I saw Strasburg." I was there. And unlike most other people who were in attendance that night, I will be back. I will still relish the pre-game drinking and live music at The Bullpen. I will still roll my eyes whenever Clint is on the big screen. And I will always cheer for Teddy to win the Presidents Race (LET TEDDY WIN!). I'll be back even when Jesus isn't pitching, because I was there, even before he was.
