Chapter Eleven, Page 150 CHAPTER ELEVEN JUNE 16, 2008: SLOGGING TOWARD COOPERSTOWN WHAT MAN HAD WROUGHT, NATURE AND NATURE’S GOD WOULD REND ASUNDER. WHAT BETTER WAY TO PUNCTUATE 6/16/08, THE BASEBALL HALL OF FAME GAME’S FINAL DAY OF LIFE? NO ONE AMONG THE GRAMMARIANS OF MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL – NEITHER MLB, THE PLAYERS, THEIR UNION, NOR THEIR AGENTS – WOULD HAVE A SAY ON WHAT THE END MARK WOULD BE: QUESTION MARK … PERIOD … EXCLAMATION POINT … A SET OF ELLIPSES? FATE LEFT THAT CALL TO REST ELSEWHERE. TOMMY LASORDA HAD IT WRONG. THE RECIPIENT OF THAT RESPONSIBILITY DID NOT “BLEED DODGER BLUE.” RATHER, HE TOOK THE TOTALITY OF BASEBALL, WHICH THE DYING BABE RUTH CALLED “THE ONLY REAL GAME,” INTO FULL ACCOUNT. JUNE 16, 2008 DOUBLEDAY FIELD, COOPERSTOWN CUBS VS. PADRES – CANCELED, STORM And thus, it came to pass, that on the 16th earthly cycle around the planetary axis of the third stone from the sun, in the sixth month of the Year of Our Lord, Anno Domini, Two Thousand and Eight, those Larger Forces no one can name deemed that IT BE OVER in a storm of biblical proportions. The early morning rain made any final game iffy. The hail and tornadic winds put all hope to rest. The Baseball Hall of Fame Game would end not with the whimper of a faux contest these exhibitions had become but with the BANG of a thundercloud.
Dizzy, Ted, Babe, Eddie, Honus, Lefty, Ty, Christy, Connie, Grover, Smoky Joe, Mickey, Willie, and the Duke rejoiced. All would be well. Fate would not let a game happen today for the last time. Order Your Copy Today!
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