Back to baseball. I went to Nationals Park in Washington DC earlier in June for the series against the Giants, with the big attraction being the chance to see Randy Johnson snare his 300th career win, something only 23 players have achieved in the game before him.
The first game on a Tuesday night was a surprise win for the Nats against Tim "The Freak" Lincecum, and the next game was to have been the Big Unit's Big Night. Instead, the heavens opened in a truly biblical fashion. A huge storm crashed in, completely drenching the city and putting on a lightning show that sent blue waves of light coursing through a sopping stadium.
There were little scenes to be enjoyed even while we waited an eternity for the game to be postponed (which it was, to the next day when Randy got to his milestone in the first game of a very soggy doubleheader).
Abandoned beers amid peanut shells under what some fans optimistically thought was covered seating; skeptical security personnel watching amazed as a school group braved the downpour and fork lightning to get to their bus outside the park; bleacher waterfalls; and of course, the boredom-induced and beer-fueled sprint and tarp slide for home. In this case, the fan was shadowed by the black-and-white clad field attendants as he rocketed from second, past third, and dived for home only to meet the yellow-shirted security guard who duly flattened him a few feet short of home in a plume of spray. Great fun. And I can't believe my 40D survived the night, given it was constantly in and out of the bag during the storm. Pretty impressive for a semi-sealed camera.
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