Last night my wife, The Scotsman, and I went
to watch a Dayton Dragons ballgame. The
Dragons are a minor league baseball team
based in our hometown, a farm team for the
Cincinnati Reds. They are also a very recent
addition to the city. Construction on Fifth Third
field was completed in April 2000, and the
Dragons began their first season immediately
thereafter. Last night's game was the
second-to-last scheduled home game of their
second season.

Fifth Third Field is located right next to the
Miami River in downtown Dayton. It's a fairly
small stadium compared to Riverfront (which
is now called Cynergy Field) where the Reds
play. As a result, there are no "bad" seats. We
were seated in the lower section in row 11, a
short distance from left field just behind third
base. We had a great view.

The Dragons were playing the Michigan Battle
Cats, a farm team for the Houston Astros (???
why a team from Michigan would be affiliated
with a team from Texas was beyond our
comprehension.) The Battle Cats had beaten
the dragons soundly 14-4 the night before, so
they needed badly to receive a come-uppance.
As the visiting team, the Cats were up to bat
first. They scored a run in the first inning, and
then were quickly ousted. The dragons did not
score in the first inning.

During the bottom of the first inning, while the
Dragons were up to bat, one of the batters
knocked a foul ball straight into the stands just
below and to the left of us. The ball literally
went straight from the bat into some poor
guy's face. I think the man was looking up at
the video scoreboard at the time and never
saw it coming. It looked like it got him square
on the nose--ouch! Didn't knock him out, but it
probably broke his nose. EMTs arrived on the
scene quickly and took care of him. Needless
to say, he and his family left early...his wife
looked mad...we hoped they at least got their
money back. We tried to keep our eyes glued
to the field from then on, at least whenever
someone was up to bat. Fortunately there
were no other incidents of that nature the rest
of the evening.

Nothing interesting happened that involved the
game until the fourth inning, when the
Dragons finally got their first run. However, at
Dragons home games, there is always some
kind of entertainment going on in between
every inning. The Dragons' mascot, "Heater"
(you guessed it--a dragon) came out and
played tug-of-war with a kid, while they played
Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers' "I Won't Back
Down" over the loudspeakers. Naturally, a
couple of the players came out and helped the
kid win. They also had ballerina come out and
dance, and she was joined by Heater in a tutu.
That act ended rather badly when the dragon
knocked down the ballerina at the end and
she stormed off in a huff. Later, a female
dragon (I think it was Heater in a wig)
appeared to "lip-synch" love songs and dance
with one of the umpires. In between all of this
and the game, roving camaramen wandered
throughout the ballpark shooting pictures of
the unwary (and the wary, too) and projecting
them for all to see on the video screen. The
Scotsman made it onto one of these shots,
and Mrs. Grishny and I would have too if she
hadn't shooed the camaraman away. Too
bad, too; I was wearing my RinkWorks
convention shirt and Sam could have gotten
some free publicity.

The fifth inning was spectacularly
boring...nothing happened. The sixth inning
was about the same, at least until my nose
started bleeding. No, I didn't get hit with a foul
ball; I just happen to be like Sam in that I am
one of those people who get gusher
nosebleeds from time to time for no apparent
reason. Bleagh. You can read all about this
phenomenon in the first "Bleeding
Excessively" chat archive if you like. Anyway,
with nothing on hand to stop the flow, I'm
afraid my RinkWorks tee got a bit ketchupy.
Oops--I'm probably grossing people out here.
Mrs. G saved the day, running to get napkins
and some ice for me. I missed most of the
sixth and seventh innings while I was
staunching the flow in the restroom.

I came back for the eighth inning to find I
hadn't missed much. Same score, 1-1.
However, by the bottom of the ninth, the Battle
Cats had pulled ahead, getting three more
runs to make the score 4-1. Undedicated fans
began packing up and leaving early, while the
Scotsman sat there and scorned them, loudly
announcing his policy of never, *ever* leaving
a ballgame until it's over. So we waited,
and...the Dragons caught up! They managed
to tie the game, 4-4, by the end of the ninth
inning, so it went into overtime.

Nothing happened in the tenth inning.

Nothing happened the first half of the eleventh,
and we began wondering just how long this
game would last. Scots told me that he
thought the record for a baseball game was
25 or 26 innings. Yeesh.

Bottom of the eleventh. We're in overtime. The
score is tied, 4-4. The Dragons only need one
run to win the game. Someone finally makes it
on base. Then the next guy walks. Then the
next guy walks too! Now the bases are
LOADED. Here comes our star, Wily Mo Pena,
up to bat. The crowd is going wild! Here
comes the pitch...he swings...WHIFF! Strike
one. Awww. Here comes the second pitch...he
swings...CRACK! GRAND SLAM HOME RUN!
Final score, Dragons 8, Battle Cats 4. This is
how baseball should be all the time.

Gri"glad we stated for the fat lady's song. And
yes, his name really is Wily Mo Pena"shny