"I been having a ball since I was a boy in Beaumont
I love that town but I just couldn't stay
Two-stepped all the way to Amarillo
Shuffled my way into Santa Fe
I just had to see she sunset out in Frisco
The golden gate is great, but it ain't home
Give me a Rodeo
Blame it on Texas don't blame it on me" (Mark Chestnut)
I guess last night we can blame the pitiful performance on Texas...since the Phililes Clay Condrey is from Beaumont, on the tidewater of the River Neches, and one of the first cities in Texas to vote to secede from the Union, just after the Confederate artillery open up and shelled Fort Sumpter.
Speaking of getting shelled, at least at Ft. Sumpter there were no casualities, but we can't say the same about last night. The fan in the lower deck who caught the rocket that ricocheted off the facing of the upper deck from the bat of Matt Stairs, has two fingers in a bandage after staying up half the night walking the floor and wondering why he stuck his hand out in the first place.
We were there last night, nestled in our seats with the family relatives hoping to witness a dry game and a spectacular night of Jamie Moyer's magic tricks: First you see it, now you don't. Moyer didn't have it and that was okay. The Grand Old Guy of the Grand Old Game deserves an off night now and then.
But the kid from Beaumont? That was single A Lakewood stuff. Either that or we dosed off and awoke during batting practice. He may have two-stepped his way to Amarillo, but now he should two-step his way back to Ottawa. I hear the sunset over the Ottawa River, just before the water rafting in the spring, has the sunset beat in Frisco 7-2, which was the score last night before Condrey gave up six in a hearbeat.
"Give me a Rodeo."