Hangin' with The Colonel

Connie offered me a ticket to yesterday’s Giant game, up in CL232. The good news is the seats are in the sun. The bad news is they are closer to the Sun than they are to home plate.

Meanwhile, the Colonel (not Col. Luis Gonzalez, but Col. Tyree) was kind enough to trek up to the hinterlands and rescue us down to FC109, behind the 1st base dugout. This kind of life or death rescue comes naturally to the Colonel, a man who confirmed that Pete McCloskey was under his command when he ordered those 7 bayonet charges in Korea. When I brought that up, he was naturally modest about it. In fact, after acknowledging the bit of personal history, he didn’t want me to talk about it anymore. Or anything else, for that matter.

Yes, the Colonel is a man of few words, particularly at a sporting event. He is focused on the action, and the traditional peripheral chatter during the pauses (generally long pauses) between the moments of action is just noise to the Colonel. There is always something to concentrate on when you are 13 steps ahead of Felipe Alou.

The Colonel was also at the game Tuesday night, Schmidty’s masterpiece. For those who weren’t there, the Giants led 2-1 going into the ninth. Schmidt had 13 strikeouts and had only given up 5 hits through eight, but Dan Uggla beat out a bunt single which was followed by lined single into center by Mike Jacobs to make it first and second, no outs.

Miguel Cabrera, the NL leader in batting average, stood menacingly at the plate. Schmidt threw his sinking changeup, which went by rookie Eliezer Alfonzo (declared a wild pitch, though Kruk insisted it was a passed ball), and the runners moved up to second and third. In thrilling fashion, Schmidt struck out the side to win the game.

The Colonel was incensed. While everyone was cheering, he was correctly second-guessing the Giants’ defensive scheme, which was NONE. Clearly Schmidt had to try to strike out Cabrera. But with one out, why didn’t Felipe order Willingham (Joshingham?) walked? And if they didn’t choose to walk him, why wasn’t the infield playing in?

In essence, the Colonel concluded that Schmidt was simply ordered to strike out the side while his teammates watched. “Hey Schmidty, nice game, but you lost because you couldn’t strike out the heart of the Marlins’ order.” That’s what Felipe would have offered as a condolence to him. But instead, he made it 16 K’s, tying him with Christy Mathewson for the Giants’ team record. That’s Christy Mathewson who fought in World War One, Christy Mathewson who was one of the original five members voted into the Hall of Fame, Christy Mathewson who had 16 strikeouts in nineteen oh four, only, uhhh, 102 years ago.

Nice outing. All by himself.

It was nice to see the Giants mob Schmidt, not just get in line to give him a high five. It was a fine moment, and in his TV interview after the game, Jason Schmidt was a mensch. He acknowledged the great game pitched against the Giants by rookie Josh Johnson (he was brilliant, and is really going to be something for them). He also gave kudos to the 11 year minor leaguer, his catcher Alfonzo, who made all the pitch calls in the critical ninth. It was a great, warm interview, which was topped yesterday on the Razor and Mr. T show. They had a long interview with him after the game, which was so good they repeated it a couple of hours later. They discussed the team, and pitching strategy, and the state of the team, and everything baseball. Brilliant.

Back to the Colonel. I tried hard to drag him into conversations about baseball trivia, and the Giants and the Marlins (he likes them, a good up and coming team) and the Civil War and bayonet charges, but he would have none of it. You all know how engaging and charming I can be at a game, but the Colonel was focused, 12 steps ahead of me (I’m one ahead of Felipe). He saw it all, just the way he saw it all when he sent ‘ol Pete McCloskey charging up that hill fifty some years ago. If it weren’t for him, we’d be eating a lot more Moo Goo Gai Pan here in the states.

But don’t ask him about it. The man lives in the present, and he’s focused. Like yesterday, when he wondered aloud what Dan Uggla's sister was named.

One of a kind.