Vote for Pedro

Our throat hurts. With reason. Last night we were yelling for Pedro.

The GM was giving an interview near the dugout before the game. We were paying customers close to the rail and wanted to see Pedro Alvarez, a young and talented beacon of hope in yet another dismal baseball season, still languishing in the minors.

"Pedro!" we'd shout at every lull.

The amplified music would subside.

"Pedro!"

The a cappella anthem would end.

"Pedro!"

You get the idea. The GM's face was noticeably redder before he ducked into the dugout.

We lost again, ninth straight. In the throes of such a streak, we looked around for entertainment: ricocheting foul balls, singing vendors, the moon setting young behind the press box. The parrot did his best to offer alternative amusement (yes, that's a big cell phone) but also failed miserably.

An hour after the game, Pedro was called up. He played today in our absence, went 0-2, committed an error, the team pitched in with five more, and now it's ten straight.

What next, you ask?

Best to focus on the close-at-hand, we reply.

We are gargling with salt water.

copyright 2010 J. O'Brien, all rights reserved