Warning Track Power

I went hitless in three official trips to the plate, although I did manage to draw my first walk of the season in the first inning. I stole second for my fourth steal of the year, then scored my first run since Game 2 when Enright drove me in with a double down the left field line. That was our only extra base hit of the game, and we finished with only five hits and that single run as we lost our second in a row, this time by a 3-1 score.

I try to talk to Debbie every day, and when I called at 11 o’clock after the game tonight she was not a real happy camper.

“It wasn’t a very good day at the hospital today,” she complained.
“We lost two patients unexpectedly. They were both recovering from what should not have been life threatening surgeries, and both were scheduled to be sent home tomorrow.  One coded right before lunch, and the other was taking a nap when her family came to visit this afternoon. She opened her eyes when they entered the room, went to get up to go to the bathroom and collapsed dead on the floor.”

“That’s tough,” I said. “Did you watch the game on TV tonight?”

“Actually, I didn’t,” Debbie said. “I turned on the TV a few minutes before the game was supposed to start, but fell asleep on the couch. I was still sleeping when you called. How did it go?”

“We lost 3-1, and I didn’t get any hits, so my day wasn’t very good either,” I whined.

“Losing a ball game is not quite the same as losing two lives,” Debbie snapped. “A little sympathy from you would be nice.”

“I gave you a little sympathy,” I replied. “Gee, what’s your problem?”

“Yeah, a very little sympathy. It’s a shame you couldn’t spare a little more. But then again, baseball is more important to you than someone’s life. Sometimes I think you are my problem.”

“Boy, what a grouch,” I said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Aren’t I the lucky one?” Debbie said as she hung up the phone.

Women.