Out The Barrel." Perhaps they sing "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" at every park in the country, but "Roll Out The Barrel" had to be peculiar toWisconsin . And why not? All these Germans, all that beer and bratwurst. The only thing missing was a polka band, and here they were, nearly everyone paired up, dancing the polka right in the stands.
When the Muskies' last chance arrived in the bottom of the ninth, they had cut the four run deficit in half and had put runners at every base, but after a strike-out and a short fly ball caught within the infield, they were truly down to their last chance.
The situation seemed bleak, but these good Christian pagans held steadfast to their faith in their Muskies. TakingLeon 's example, everyone rose to their feet and chanted in lockstep rhythm, "Let's go fish! Let's go fish!" Hundreds of hands clapped together, emulating the vicious muskie maw, calling forth the spirit of their team's patron totem.
"C'mon," Kern said. "Baby needs a new pair of shoes. Baby needs a new pair of shoes!"
"Little bingo here," Nicole said. "Little bingo."
I turned toward my instructor. "Bingo? What is that?"
She looked at me blankly. Suddenly, a loud crack rang out, followed by a gasp throughout the crowd. My head turned toward the sound, seeing several fans duck as the hard line drive flew at us, directly at Nicole's head.
At the last moment, I reached out and grabbed the ball in mid-flight, the impact sharp and ringing, but the ball's momentum halted, the small spheroid held safely within my tightly closed fingers. I casually handed the ball to Nicole.
"Thanks," she said, a high degree of astonishment in her voice. "Doesn't your hand hurt? That was a real screamer."
I shook my head. Kern and Henry patted me on the back.Leon stared directly at me, his expression shocked, then dissolving into a smile as he flashed a thumbs-up at me.
"Okay, it's three balls and two strikes," Nicole said a few pitches later. She rolled the ball nervously in her hands. "Unless the batter fouls the ball off, the game ends right here. A hit'll score three runs for sure because we've got faster runners on base, and they'll be moving with the pitch."
"Let's go fish! Let's go fish! Let's go fish!"
Crack! A line drive to the left side of the infield. The third baseman leaped, missing the ball by inches. The shortstop lunged, stretched out as far as his limbs could reach, but barely missed the ball. The fellow in the outfield charged forward.
One run. Two runs.
The fellow on first had nearly reached second when the ball was hit. He steamed toward third. The surrogate leader standing behind third base made a wide windmill motion with his arm. The runner spun around the base without hesitation.
The outfielder scooped up the ball and hurled it toward home plate with all his might.
A few strides from home, the runner leaped hands first, arms fully outstretched and slid in the dirt toward the plate.
The throw bounced once. The catcher, standing in front of the plate, clearly in the runner's path, caught the ball cleanly four feet in the air, then thrust his glove down hard onto the runner's back.
The crowd hushed, waited. For a long, pregnant moment, the umpire stared at the tangle of bodies, seeming to wait for the dust to clear.
The umpire crossed his arms in front of his chest, then thrust them sharply apart.
The crowd roared. Henry and Kern jumped up and down.Leon faced the crowd, arms raised in the air, fists pumping. Nicole wrapped her arms around my neck, jumping up and down.
It took a moment to realize that this was victory. Victory! Let the British keep their cricket! Their game has not the passion or drama of this moment.
****
The ride back to the Crystal Corner was quiet; my fellow cabbies were happy, but emotionally drained.
"Coming in?" Kern asked when we arrived at the bar.
"No," I replied, having had more than enough humanity for one night. "I think I shall just go home and quietly savor this stunning victory."
"Well, thanks for driving, Count," Henry said.
Kern and Henry departed, but Nicole lingered. "You enjoyed yourself, Al?"
"Yes, I did. Surprisingly so. Thanks for describing what was happening. I do not think the contest would have made sense without your illuminating narrative."
She laughed lightly. "You sure do have a funny way of phrasing things." Nicole paused a moment, looking down at her hands which still held the baseball as