A Week of Texas Baseball

It was a long week. I knew it would be. Besides four baseball games, there was the Houston Museum of Natural Science; the gallery for the Menil Collection; the Lyndon B. Johnson Presidential Library; the George H.W. Bush Presidential Library; the Sixth Floor Museum at the site of the assassination of JFK; and well, other than the meals, I think that was it. But it was still two things baseball-related which I was anticipating most.

The first was Roger Clemens pitching at Minute Maid Park. I’m not one for letting an individual player supersede the game because it just doesn’t work that way, but there are certain guys that you just can’t help getting a little extra excited for. A couple of seasons ago, I was thrilled to see Ichiro in U.S. Cellular on Labor Day weekend because he was well on pace to break George Sisler’s hit record. He went 5 for 5, and whatever the stereotype is about Sox fans -- especially pre-2005 -- the crowd was fully aware of what was at stake in the final weeks and gave him a full standing ovation after his fifth hit. The season before, I caught Pedro pitching in Comerica, and he struck out the first 5 batters of the game, and 7 of the first 9. Back in old Tiger Stadium, I saw Ken Griffey Jr. catch a ball running back to the wall in centerfield, a play that was so good it got 6 pages in a full-page photo spread for the next issue of Sports Illustrated, breaking it down frame by frame. These guys are the elite for a reason.

Clemens is one of them, and while I can never get fully behind him for being with the Red Sox and then a Yankee Mercenary, numbers are numbers and he is the best pitcher of the era. Unfortunately, he didn’t dominate. In fact, although he pitched well enough to get a win, the Astros couldn’t muster a run and he took the loss 2-0. You pay your money and take your chances, they say. Still, the next night Berkman hit a monstrous homerun about 450' to center, and while he’s not in that elite group it was as impressive a homerun as I’ve seen since Andruw Jones hit a moonshot in Philadelphia last season.

And it was good to be back in full baseball mode. The game in Wrigley a month ago was fun, but my mind was in a million places. It still sort of is, but I could shut everything else out this week for hours at a time, sitting in the old ballpark.

Which brings me to Ameriquest Field in Arlington, the other reason I was excited for this week. I haven’t been there until now, and I’d heard good things. I have to say, it lives up to its reputation. It’s not as nice as Camden or PNC, but considering its age (1994) it’s fantastic.

It just feels like a baseball park. The new ones border on cathedrals, and the feeling is deserved. Ameriquest, however, doesn’t feel like that; it doesn't feel like you should be paying attention to it instead of the game. It just feels like a ballpark. The right field bleachers have beams that remind me of old Tiger Stadium. Center field spreads out cleanly. The sightlines are clear. There’s nothing gimmicky about it whatsoever. Compared to Houston, it's a perfect example of why sometimes less is more. And, when the Rangers hit a homerun and the fireworks go off to the opening bars of the theme to The Natural, there is no doubt that you’re there watching the show -- the best of the best playing this brilliant game.

Well, except that they were playing the Royals, whose only player good enough to start on other clubs is probably former Cub Mark Grudzielanek, who it was nice to see fouling off pitches and ripping line drives again. John Koronka got the win tonight for the Rangers, moving to 7-6 as Cubs fans everywhere wonder why we let this rookie go and not one of the others. Of course, it didn’t hurt that the Rangers offense was clicking on all cylinders, and Carlos Lee is hitting over .600 since arriving with Texas. (And good riddance, by the way; he was a Cubs killer.)

I was also impressed with the Rangers fans. Last night my father and I sat next to a woman with season tickets who knew her stuff as thoroughly as anyone you’d meet. She concurred with us that Yankee fans are hellspawn. Not in those words, but you know. And both nights, when the Rangers had good innings at the plate, the fans stood and applauded the hitting when the Royals got the third out at last. Nicely done.

In other news, A & I favorite Todd Wellemeyer looks to be on the fast track out of the majors. He was still throwing that 96mph fastball with life, but without better control on an out pitch like a changeup, hitters adjust over the course of an at-bat and rip line drives. Happened again last night.

Meanwhile the Cubs are suddenly playing good baseball. Zambrano is holding steady as a serious Cy Young contender, with the only glaring minus for him being the walk totals. Cedeno got a few knocks, Ramirez is still on fire, and the pitching is alright.

And it always feels especially good to know that somewhere, a Cardinal fan is saying, “How can we get swept by the freakin’ Cubs?!?”

In any case, August is nearly arrived, Prior is on the hill tomorrow, and I’ve been reminded again this week about how much I love to slow things down and take in a game. Not that I'd forgotten, but knowing and doing are different things altogether, and I was glad to be sitting in the crowd for 4 nights of baseball in Texas.