Report from Hattiesburg
Well, that was a great deal of satisfaction taken with the Saturday night win over LaTech, both in the dugout and in the stands. Couple of us drove over from Houston on Friday after we won games 1 and 2; wanted to just support the team and watch some ball games. Not a huge contingent of Owleybirds on hand, but those who were got to see a lot of baseball on Saturday. First game, our old friend Tony Maners was behind the plate and he was terrible; his ball/strike calling was all over the place. Wasn’t Maners the guy who tossed Wayne in the second game of the Rice-Stanford championship series in ‘03? It’s clear the guy is one Blue that makes OG’s skin crawl.
The LaTech crowd was a piece of work; must say have never heard a crowd of 150 people make as much obnoxious racket. To describe, those of you who can remember Texas’ Wild Bunch during the70s and 80s, that’s about what it was like. They hooted and hollered every pitch, it seemed, like it was the third game of the CWS final in Omaha. Perhaps, to them, it actually was. The USM fans absolutely hate them and while hanging around the stadium or at the restaurant before and afterwards, we got a lot of friendly encouragement (among the over-50 set, anyway). Quip heard more than once: what in H are schools like ours (Rice and USM) doing in in a league like this?
We were on Row One at the home plate corner of the dugout for second game; and it was clear the guys had just had a belly-full of LaTech, and were animated and determined. The dugout-to-stands level of involvement with the game was as high as I’ve seen; as small as our group was, have to say that we were a true Twelfth Man (make that, I guess, “Tenth Man”) for the team in a couple of ways am not at liberty to discuss. Suffice it to say that we stood toe-to-toe with the “Deliverance” set from Ruston a more than couple of us have the strained vocal cords this morning to show for it.
Before the game, Dane was sitting at the top ledge, directly in front of us intensely quiet and deep in his thoughts; pretty sure he was told beforehand that was going to be our ultimate line of defense. At one point, he buried his bandaged and braced left hand (looked like a hyperextended thumb) under his left armpit as if to say, ‘if I don’t see it, it’s not there.’ And then of course he went out and pitched his heart out. Pretty damn good for a one-handed pitcher! In the ninth it was clear that, with what he had left in the tank, he was determined to just throw strikes and trust his fielders.
It’s obviously been a disappointing year for everybody from the OG on down, but somehow that win last night was a faith-restorer; sure hope we can pull off the win today and keep The Streak alive, but if not, can live with it – let’s just go out and start another.
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