[MattStewNYY]

Senators Open Season

Philadelphia Phillies (0-0) vs. Washington Senators (0-0)
Randy Wolf, LHP (0-0) vs.
Livan Hernandez, RHP, (0-0)

Game One

The steady hum of the caramel machines kicked into action, the crickets tender winter slumber, that laid still and comfortable for over 30 years, disrupted -- the subtle glow of a stadium light began to burn the hollywood green of the park's grounds, and I stood at the base of our home dugout, with baseball again in Washington, a new empire to build, and 80 years titleless, two generations teamless, as a vendetta to fulfill.

Our team's dark red jersey's and pinstripes, their dark red caps with the fitting black "W" and blue "Senators" across the chest of their shirts, worn with pride and bit of a mud in typical ballplayer fashion, they stepped onto the field to overcast skies and a packed house of nearly 56,000 as if they'd never left, as if the man with the tall hat and thick suit in 1940 still sat in the left field stands, growing what seemed like years in time as games slowly passed, or the woman and her ill child who would have the special privledge of watching that particular game in the President's Booth, reserved for the Chief Executive on opening day, and to always see a man's best, Ted Williams, though he never stepped foot as a player, thankfully comes to mind.

President Bush sat in his box, guards as thick as trees, and the shy, lonesome frailty of me standing near with my "7" jersey on, and merely embracing the moment. As he stood he rolled up his sleeve, his trademark of hard work and blue collared enthuisasm, and though I disagreed with this man, this flawed man, I could have been no where but that moment, and to avoid being too dapper, too embraced in his own moment, he removed his sparking watch, and with a glove surely bought in the latter half of a few days notice, he cocked and fired to Brian Schneider, waiting happily for the catch.

Thus with all the ceremony done, and JFK Jr. stadium heavy with anxiety, we moved forth with the precedings, and Livan Hernandez, the man I'll most rely on this season, stepped on the mound, toed the rubber, rubbed some fresh erd dirt against his traveled fingers and threw a few to warm himself once more.

We were off, and Hernandez looked like a Danny Almonte, and memories came to mind of dominant pitchers, Koufax, Gibson, the era was looming about the park, and Rollins, missing and missing again, fell on strikes. A batter later, Jim Thome came up swinging for the fences, and rightfully so, they were brimming with activity, as the stadium seemed to sway with every swing from the slugger, but this battle was short, and he would fall, and miss, and crawl to the dug out assured of imperfection. The Senators were up to bat.

First came Nick Johnson, his speed matched by many, his patience by few, the idea was to get the kid on base, and move him along, but a second pitch curveball pushed that to later, at least, and the first Senator out was recorded. In truth, no Senator in the first, be it Johnso, Wilson, or Restovich put together an at bat worthy of much to do. Restovich's corky stance, huddling his shoulders close to his ears, as if cold or wounded, and swinging tight and rapidly, trying perhaps to slay the dragon charging him, but this time he simply trickled down the line, and felt the flame.

Hernandez continued to deal leading into the second, but the gray sky that had created such an eerie feeling early began to fizzle with activity, and the rains came, cleaning the rustbucket of it's 80 year shame, and teaching it an early lesson, and despite hopes, delaying the conclusion of a historic day, for at least a while. For me, I sat in the bat and looked over a few games from the day, prepared some things for tomorrows meeting, and talked to Livan, who, after 45 minutes was allowed to return to the mound, but he moved arm around uncomfortably, and this concerned me.

An inning later, Jimmy Rollins would get his revenge, with two on and two out, he'd strike a long and loud corkscrew hitting the very parameters of the top of the right field wall, and Restovich, with all his might returned the favor back to Vidro, who relayed in an accurate bullet, but it was too little, too late, and the first tally would go Philadelphia's way. Despite avoiding further trouble, Livan had clearly already begun to tire, and the layoff would serve as much a curse as anything. It was clear now, much like his brother Orlando, he'd have to use a fiesty breaking ball, and the love of the game, something he found long ago in Cuba, to get him through the night.

The 5th frame rolled around rather quietly, and both pitchers had held off their respective foes the last go around, but it was clear that Randy Wolf who in the least had faded among the chaos of Philadelphia's 2004 blunder, was on that night, and determined to do everything he could to start his Larry Bowaless career, his new beginning, out right. Michael Restovich, the generous fellow, began a string of double plays for us that, needless to say, killed every tilting turn on the wheel of momentum we managed to create. His first double play in the 5th, would be one of three from then to the end, and overcoming that was something that even a great team would struggle to do.

As the 6th bell tolled, Hernandez was still running on economy fuel, the kind only the heart can muster, but there simply wasn't much of that left. A hit by pinch hitter Miguel Cairo, ending Wolf's rain shortened night, and a walk to Marlon Byrd set up a 2 on 1 out scenario, and again the Phillies sluggers delivered. Thome first, hit a beam that brought one home and sent the other to third, before Pat Burrell sent a dribbler down the swap of third base, and Pokey Reese slipped on his way to grab it, marking down his first error of the year, something that, at his new position, he certainly doesn't need.

That would end Livan's night, and although we would score off of Michael McDougal in the next frame, by a Termel Sledge opposite field single, the first RBI in the new franchises history, another double play by the catcher, and appropriately, in this case, the "stopper", Brian Schneider, who unfortunately this time stopped our momentum.

Joe Horgan would be the next Senator pitcher, and he is going to be key to us this year, but not in this case, where he let a run in, in his first frame, and left in his second without retiring a man, and allowing two aboard. Trever Miller was my next choice, to see if he could live up to my preseason hype, and despite allowing another man's run, he retired the next few relatively quietly, and brought us into the darkening night a little faster, a little more quiet.

Rocky Biddlefinished off the game for us, and I must say I'm surprised at the way he pitched. He outdid himself from his preseason performance, and reminded me of another Rocky, the way he fought his way out of a 1st and 3rd 1 out jam to allow nothing, and showing no more emotion than a quick grunt of jubilation and relief, that he had done his team well, and earned a spot of trust in my mind. But to talk of feared pitchers, you must talk of a flamethrower named Wagner whose grizzly appearance and 99 MPH gun would scare the skin of a cat, given the chance.

Billy Wagner the Phillie's closer, came into the 9th with a 3 run lead, to finish off the game, but a lead off slap hit by Restovich and a close-call walk by Jose Vidro had Washington faithful, most of which still stood, cracker jacks readily supplied, crying "not yet!". The fateful next man, and probably only a helpless victim to the curse of the twin killing, Brad Wilkerson left his at bat with a man on third, but put two away, and effectively ended my hopes. Sledge would bring the game within two, and for the time being at least, is the RBI guy, the Sheffield of this team. We walked away from our opener with a loss, and started assumedly where we left off... Vidro scoring hits and runs alike, but with a positive outlook, and where Livan Hernandez pitched well enough to win, he was outpitched all the same.

So we'll go back tomorrow, hand Claudio Vargas the ball and even up our record. After this game, I still think the same about our team. We've still got fire, still got passion, still got a desire to win, and still have the talent to do it. We have to show it on the field, and now, we're only 161 away from doing so. Confidence is everything.

FINAL SCORE:
Philadelphia Phillies:4
Washington Senators:2

Washington Senators: 0-1