RMJ 155 July 20

SUNDAY JULY 19 ● Montreal, vs Expos

I had a few beers with Jimmy Deshaies and got back to the room about 1:30 a.m.  I left a wakeup call for 10:00, then read myself to sleep.

My new book is Body and Soul by Frank Conroy. It’s a novel about a musical prodigy. It is a real page-turner.

In what seemed like the middle of the night, I heard voices. By the time I was conscious enough to wonder whether I was dreaming, the voices were gone. I got up and took a leak, and when I headed back to the rack, I noticed daylight steaming through the cracks in the drapery. I picked up my watch to see what time it was, and was alarmed [cute.] to see that it was 12:35. Our game started at 2:00. I was really late.

Why didn’t someone call me? I wondered as I turned on the light by the bed. About that time, I noticed that the digital reading on the clock next to the bed said 6:05. I was truly perplexed — half panicky, but still half-asleep.

I looked at my watch again, and realized I had been looking at it upside- down. It really was just 6:05.

I turned off the light and got back under the covers.

Then I began to wonder about the voices. I wondered if the hotel was on fire, and I knew I would not be able to sleep until I found out. When I called the operator, she told me that the fire alarm had gone off, but there was no sign of a fire. She said that it was probably a false alarm, and another announcement would be made after the situation was under control.

I was so tired that I went right back to sleep. I don’t know how long it was until the next announcement came, but this time I did hear it. There was no problem.

 

Last night, Bill told me he was going to take the bus to the ballpark. I haven’t taken the bus all year, but I decided to take it because we were not taking batting practice or infield because of a birthday party for the Expos’ mascot, Youppi!

When I boarded the bus, Milo, Ash, and Barry Waters were the only other riders.

“Bill deked me,” I thought. “Now I really am late.”

Nobody seemed terribly concerned. I got the lineup out in a hurry, and I had some breakfast.

 

As it turned out, it didn’t take much to beat the Expos.

When I got to home plate with the lineup card, Expos bench coach Jim Tracy was explaining something to crew chief Jim Quick. Quick informed me that the Expos starter, Dustin Hermanson, had a sprained wrist; it was taped up, and would be covered with a wristband so as not to distract our hitters. This seemed fine to me. Tracy is an upfront guy — a real gentleman. In fact, I have found the whole Expos staff under Felipé Alou to be professional in every way.

Earlier this year, Alou and Dusty Baker of the Giants got into an argument about Expos runners stealing the catcher’s signs and relaying them to the batters. I like both of these guys, and I think they both do great jobs with teams that have marginal talent.

 

We scored runs in the second and third innings, and D.K. was mowing them down, as usual.

During the second-inning rally, one of our hitters mentioned that he was distracted by the long, loose lacing hanging from the fingers of Hermanson’s glove. I had already spoken with Quick after he examined the wristband. He told me that he did not see a problem with it.

“If he starts reaching for it with his pitching hand, or rubbing the ball on it, I’ll check again,” he said.  I didn’t expect this would happen; if they were hiding something, they wouldn’t have called attention to it.

The lacing problem was another story. I didn’t want to challenge him, because we were already leading 2-0 and I didn’t want to wake them up. But Biggio said, “Go talk to them. Don’t let them get away with it.”  

Between innings, I talked to the umpires, and the home plate umpire Paul Nauert spoke with Alou. The next inning, the lacing was trimmed.

We failed to score in the next two frames, and Kile kept pace.

In the sixth, Gonzo hit a two-run homer. He followed in the seventh with a grand slam. Kile shut them out on four hits, throwing only 97 pitches in the process.