Rain ruins everyone's day in Bristol

I had a lot of high hopes for Tuesday, I really did. I arrived in Bristol on Monday, and knew I’d be seeing the Keystoners for the first time in a few days. I always enjoy a good baseball game, and usually, the Clinton County boys don’t let me down.

And they didn’t for the first two innings of their game with Maryland. Unfortunately, Momma Nature had other plans and decided she didn’t want us playing any of the Mid-Atlantic Regional games.

What the rain delay did was frustrate a lot of people, because we all had a plan that didn’t follow through. Bill Garbrick had his plans on how to win the game, the parents had their plans to see their children and have dinner at a decent hour, and members of the media has their plan of attack in order to punch out their stories to meet a deadline.

Well, none of that really went according to plan.

At 4:35 p.m. when the rain delay went into effect, we all thought we were fine in the press box. We were assured that after a few hours, we’d be back playing baseball on a soggy but playable field. All the tournament personnel were accomadating, asking us several times if we needed anything. All we needed was to watch a ballgame, the one thing they couldn’t do for us at the moment.

So, we had to get a little creative in the press box. Tom Fox and myself had the pleasure of spending the rain delay with Tom Elling, a local wrestling legend who is a wealth of knowledge just waiting to be tapped in to. We talked about wrestling, and baseball, and NFL quarterbacks, and just about anything else that came to mind.

Mr. Elling told me a fabulous story about how former Buffalo Bills signal-caller Jim Kelly slapped him in the back of the head – jokingly, of course – one time many years back.

And I can’t complain about the music that was being played over the speakers. We weren’t being entertained with Britney Spears or Justin Bieber – thankfully. No, the music on the menu was 80’s all way. Abba, Jimmy Buffet, Journey, Survivor, just to name a few.

Watching the rain pelt the field was not fun. Watching two members of the grounds crew take all the stuff from their pockets before running and sliding across the tarp covering the infield was.

Part of me thought the two guys were crazy, but a part of me also really, really wanted to do it. Hey, my 4-year-old niece would have been so proud of her Aunt Kim.

Instead, my clothes and everything else I carried with me to the field got drenched on the way back to my vehicle. Tom Fox was in the same boat as me, carrying all his gear about half a mile back to our ride because the parking at Breen Field is, well, a little limited.

There’s not a whole lot to eat, either, and the interesting menu of food there left me daydreaming for a buffalo chicken sub from OIP in Mill Hall.

I didn’t get my sub, and I didn’t get my ballgame. Perhaps Wednesday will be a better day.