Game Report: September 2004 Archives
Marlins 9, Expos 1
After all the throwing (a golf ball in the third inning, soda bottles later), the lamenting, and, finally, the losing, it was at last finis for the
It wasn't an auspicious start for the team on its first night as a Washington franchise. But now that they're officially a DC team, pretending to be the home team when the play on the road in Montreal probably confused our players. They have, after all, had a confusing time of things these last few seasons. They've played "home" games on the road in Puerto Rico and Chicago (the American-League park in Chicago, no less); even players with the serenity and imagination of Mr. Rogers were probably driven a bit batty by all the pretending they had to do.
So we don't begrudge them the embarrassing loss. The Expos enjoy a richness of weaknesses, but pitching probably most of all. Sure, Sun-Woo Kim had to come out in the third after giving up five runs (three unearned). But just minutes before he took the mound, manager Frank Robinson had to explain to Kim, using the Korean he picked up during the war, that his team was now the Washington Expos.
"So I've heard. That makes Montreal an away stadium, so I don't pitch until the bottom of the first, right? I could use the extra rest." Kim responded.
"No," Robinson explained, his Korean rusty as ever. "Even though we no longer play in Montreal, we will pretend to be the house team for this game. Just like when we invaded San Juan, or when we retreated from the big wind to Chicago. Do you understand?"
"I am not sure," Kim replied, using short, simple words to help Robinson understand his Korean. "Americans call Chicago 'the windy city.' So why did we go there when we had to get away from the strong winds of the typhoon?"
"There is also the rain," Robinson replied. "The rain would have flooded the field like the Chinese volunteers overrunning our positions when we reached the Yalu in '51. No, we must pretend to be the home team, so you will pitch in the top half of the inning."
"I am still confused," Kim said, and he remained confused as he walked to the mound. There he confused Einar Diaz's signs for "fastball" and "changeup" with the signs for "let him hit this one" and "whatever you do, do not throw strike three."
The infield was just as confused. Maicer Izturis at short and Brad Wilkerson at first both committed errors on account of looking for infield grounders to be in Washington, not Montreal, allowing three unearned runs.
"Sacre bleu!" cried the crowd, 31,395 strong and the largest of the season. "Je ne sais quoi!"
But after the boeuf of the Expos order went down one-two-three in the bottom of the ninth, there was nothing more for Montreal to say than "fait accompli" and "adieu."
Robinson bids Montreal adieu.
Before he stepped on the train that would take him to Washington (with stops at Shea Stadium and the Florida Grapefruit League), Robinson addressed the crowd of Montrealers who assembled to see him off. Here is what he said:
My friends, no one, not in my situation, can appreciate my feeling of sadness at this parting. To this place and the kindness of this people I owe everything. Here I have lived for three years and have passed from an old man to an even older one. Here my players have been promoted from the minor leagues and from here they have been traded away for peanuts.I now leave, not knowing when or whether ever I may return, with a task before me greater than that which rested upon the 1961 Washington Senators. Without the assistance of that Divine Being who ever cursed that team I can not succeed. With that assistance I can not fail.
Trusting in Him who can go with me and remain with you and be everywhere for good, let us confidently hope that all will yet be well. To His care commending you, as I hope in your prayers you will commend me, I bid you an affectionate farewell.
With that, the crowd at the rail-yard grew hushed. Robinson turned from the rail and stepped back into the train. To mournful silence, the locomotive chugged away, building steam and speed, and disappeared into the night. The Expos were home in Montreal no more.
