Read from the bottom up. Or not at all.
4:44 Two down in the ninth. Before we leave for the bar, let me assure you I am not wearing a Cardinals hat. My hat is not red. It says "SC," which does not have anything to so with St. Louis or baseball. And it says "Broncos" on the side.
In summary, Shikes is a moron. Rocks win. And we're out. (JT)
4:42 Top of the ninth, Rockies 10, Phils 2 3. Barring a Christian Bale-ian meltdown, the Rocks are off to a 3-1 start. (JT)
4:34: Why do stadiums insist on playing "Cotton Eyed Joe?" Horrible song. (JT)
4:15: So I'm sitting here with one of those guys who wears his own team hat to a game even though that team is not playing. What I mean is that Joe is wearing a Cardinals hat even though the game is between the Phillies and Rockies. What a wanker. Also, Phillies suck. Rockies rule, baby. (JS)
4:05: Joe, what time is It? Oh shoot. Did I say taht out loud. So, my boss called and said she would fire me if I didn't blog about why they sing "Take me out to the ball game" when you are already AT the ballgame. Interesting. But an even better question woudl be, Why do they cut off the beer in the concourse just a half inning later. Sad. Sad. Sad. (JS)
3:54: Also, there was the waiting in the mens; room line for like 45 minutes. Why is it that this game seems less crowded than some 1 pm affair in mid-summer when the Rocks are 12 games back, and yet the bathrooms are twice as full? Why? (JS)
3:45: I am making up the time here because we lost our wifi access when we snuck into some sort of secret ballroom above the Sandlot. The reason we did taht? because Westword's Drink of teh Week columnist nancy Levine made us have Kamikaze shots.
3:11: Fuck you, Shikes. And it was a triple. 5-1 Rocks. (JT)
3:10: Jesus. Joe is getting peanut shells all over the keyboard. Tulo is up. It's another freakin Double! Bring it on BLAKE STREET BOMBERS. Dinger is dancing, but you knew that already, didn't you? (JS)
3:06: Garret Atkins just hit a home run. Oh sweet. Brad Hawpe ... (JS)
3:03: I love it when the pitcher gets a hit, especially at RBI hit. The ump is walking over to the stands. Is he ordering a beer? (js)
3:00 Clint Hurdle is having a stroke. Come on, coach, you got 158 2/3 of these things to go. (Actually, he has a point; the umps called Fowler out for interference, but he looked in the baseline to me ... and everyone else in the stadium, oddly). (JT)
2:56 Clint Barmes just doubled down the left field line, and, to the disbelief of many, did not trip over deer meat on his way to second. (JT)
2:54: Mmmmmmm. Hot dogs:
2:40: C'mon Hawpe. (JS)
2:35: Ack, Heeeellllpppp. Dinger is attacking me! He's beating me over the head with his punk purple tail, heeeeelllpppp. Just kidding. I love that crazy dinosaur. (JS)
2:28: So, I don't really remember anything about the 2008 season -- and for good reason. But some things I definitely don't remember include the slider grille, the salad bar, Tulo dropping easy infield grounders and the Powered By Nature with Solar power sign in left center. One thing I do remember, however, is what a punk Dinger is. Crazy purple dinosaur. (JS)
2:23: Disregard below. Fowler just got thrown out at third for no particular reason. Third place here we come! (JT)
2:21: According to Major League, the third best baseball movie ever, you can tell what kind of season it's going to be by the first hitter. And what did Rocks' lead-off hitter Dexter Fowler just do? Drove a single into left. And then stole second. Gonna be a good year. (JT)
2:18: Oh. My. God. Jason Marquis is the slowest pitcher ever. I seriously just went and got a hot dog and he was still shaking off pitches. As Shikes just remarked, "It's Opening Day, not Opening Days."
It seemed more clever when he said it. (JT)
2:10: First pitch: 2:10 on the nose. Ball one. Horrible sign.
Baseball's ability to time all the pregame shit and start the game exactly on time never ceases to mildly impress me. In other news, here's a photo I took about five minutes before first pitch, in the 10th row behind the Phils' dugout:
Really? On Opening Day? Would it kill you to get here before first pitch? In fact, the upper deck is half empty, and there are huge swatches of empty space in the bleachers. Weird.
2:01: Ooh, yeah, nothing like a flyover! And the sun is coming out. Damn. I'm glad I didn't spend $52 for a sweatshirt. Although I spent more than that on two Rockie Dogs and a beer, but I don't care. (JS)
1:59: Nice moment for Nick Adenhart. (Jonathan Shikes, Extremely Fortunate Managing Editor)
1:54 They're introducing the lineups now. Not sure why they take the time to introduce the entire Phillies roster, right down to the guy who washes the stirrups. This just in: No one -- no one in the stands, no one watching at home -- cares. Biggest ovation so far was for former Rocky Vinnie Castillo, now an assistant coach. Second-biggest: Don Baylor.
Shit, gotta rise again. National Anthem. (JT)
1:39 p.m.: Let's get this out of the way first, since it's the flaming pink elephant in Section 136: Yes, I realize I'm likely to be impaled in the face by a Ryan Howard foul ball in the top of the first -- the perfect karmic response to my being on a laptop in the 21st row behind the Phillies dugout. But if I was going to secure Westword's primo seats for Opening Day, I had to promise to live-blog the holy hell out of this glorious day.
So: Here we are. Thirty minutes to first pitch. A short, breezy half-hour until the first of 82 (and hopefully more) home games -- 82 three-hour-long batches of distraction, courtesy of some very well paid gentlemen.
OK, gotta stand for something patriotic. Back shortly with ... something way insightful. (Joe Tone, lucky-ass Web Editor)
