Worcester Tornadoes

Hoping to see games in all the Boston area ballparks this summer, I headed out to Worcester tonight to see a game against New Haven (Can-Am League, Independent). They use the Holy Cross ballpark, not a thing of great beauty. Clunky aluminum granstand, view of the freeway. As usual, I paid for an expensive seat that I never sat in, roaming the ballpark instead. Worst beer I’ve had to buy in years (Budweiser) and the worst hot dogs and sausages ever — cold soggy things wrapped in aluminum foil for god knows how long. I told the cashier they needed better beer, and she gave me this look like I was crazy not to love Bud. I wanted to say that there was this beer revolution in America twenty years ago and Worcester will catch up to it sooner or later. The crowd was quite into the game, following it closely, even when the City of Worcester’s rather impressive early 4th fireworks show started going off over the right field horizon. I was surprised at the number of California-style, 5th inning-arrivals, though. Worcester-ites are very white and doughy, if the crowd at the game was representative. Sort of Nebraska in Massachusetts. Long lines at the fried dough stand, and it showed :-0.
The officiating was awful (and I don’t often complain about that). The home plate and first base umps made egregious calls. The third base ump, hugely fat and looking past middle-aged, labored out to the field every time a man got on, making me glad for the ambulance I saw standing by on the way in. Good guys, leading their division, won 3-1. Decent pitching, lots of good hits, plenty of Little League moments in the infield, shallow outfield (the lights don’t illuminate very high and many popups were lost in the darkness), and on the base paths. The Worcester catcher looks like he has it all together, though: Yohanny Valera, a veteran who had his cup of coffee with the Expos for two weeks in 1999 before dropping back down and knocking around the minors.
I had planned on going up to Lowell tonight to see the Spinners, but I learned at the last minute that it was a salute-the-troops night there, with the team dressing in camouflage uniforms. More jingo than I could take, so I headed west instead. The Tornadoes, by the way, are named for the big T4 1953 twister that killed 94 people. Worcester is also the home of Robert Goddard, “father of the space program,” as I learned from a sign on 1-290.
I’m excited for Monday’s start for Oil Can Boyd down in Brockton. It will be my third Brockton Rox game. I saw him pitch there with Stefan last weekend. I really love that ballpark, and it’s fun to reconnect with an ancestral home!