Marathon game leaves him exhausted (10/12/05)

I'm exhausted. And I haven't done anything.

But I've done it for 18 innings.

The elegant baseball writer Roger Angell observed years ago that baseball is a game without a clock. Theoretically, if you play it perfectly enough, it can go on forever.

On Sunday, it did.

In case you had other things to do (so did I), let me fill you in.

The Houston Astros were facing the Atlanta Braves in game four of a best-of-five series. The Astros were ahead two games to one. If they won, they'd move on to face the incredibly tough St. Louis Cardinals. If they lost, they'd play Atlanta again.

OK, so the fate of the world didn't depend upon the outcome.

But in baseball terms, it was a very big deal.

So, when I turned on the TV and settled in with a bowl of minestrone and a big glass of skim milk, I thought I'd be entertained for a few hours.

But baseball, as Roger Angell pointed out, follows its own rhythm and its own clock.

Six hours after the game started, it finally came to an end. Something like 21/2 hours passed after the game was tied at 6-6 in the 9th inning.

They essentially played two consecutive games before hitting the locker rooms.

And what's a fan to do?

I watched. I yelled. I think I walked the dog at one point.

And, inevitably bored, I switched over to the Colts game for a bit. (Does the Nobel Prize committee have something special in its gift bag for the inventor of picture-in-picture?)

Toward about the 12th inning, I made some popcorn and Connie joined me for some of Orville Redenbacher's finest. But when she returned to her studies, the game kept on going.

And going. And going.

And I kept watching and watching and wondering why exactly I was watching.

I'm not at all fond of the Braves; Atlanta has been the National League equivalent to the Yankees the past 15 years or so.

But I don't care very much about Houston either; we're fans of Nolan Ryan, now retired, but not too big on Roger Clemens, about to be retired, again.

Whoever won the playoff was going to have to face the St. Louis Cardinals, a team we favor at our house.

Baseball allegiances can get pretty complicated, as any fan knows.

For instance, we were sort of rooting for Boston in the American League, because the twins live in the greater Boston area; but at the same time, we saw A.J. Pierzynski of the Chicago White Sox play in the minor leagues in Fort Wayne and wanted him to succeed. Meanwhile, my brother Steve used to cheer for Pierzynski when he was with the Minnesota Twins but can't conceive of doing that now because he's a member of the Twins' arch-rival "mighty Whities."

The only thing clear is that none of us wanted the Yankees to succeed, except Sally's roommate, who can be forgiven since she's from Long Island.

You'd think that all of that confusion would make it hard to get excited about an 18-inning game on a Sunday afternoon. And you'd be wrong.

There were, I think, four home runs, including two grand slams. Clemens, a middle-aged man these days, pitched three innings of relief and laid down a great bunt.

So many players took the field in various permutations of substitution, you halfway expected to see the hot dog vendor at first base.

And as to the score?

The Astros won.

We'll take the Cardinals in the next match-up, but it's going to be a great October.[[In-content Ad]]