Kid a couple of rows in front of me at the Jake: “Dad, we got Ichiro out!”
The Seattle superstar had just grounded to Cleveland shortstop Omar Vizquel to start the game, and the kid’s dad had been down getting himself a beer and his son, probably nine or ten years old, some peanuts.
It was the last time the kid could say that all evening. They had left by the eighth inning, but if they were still there they would have seen Ichiro get his fourth hit – he was four for five on the night, with three singles and a double, a perfectly Ichiro-like performance.
It was cold out at the park – in the 50s, but windy, and I had to wear all the clothes I brought with me to Cleveland. But it was lovely nevertheless, another major league ballpark to add to my list.