In the late hours of the night, when I hop on a computer to check the Indians box score and recap, I tend to go through the same routine. I first look to see if Cleveland won (usually disappointed), browse over the pitching performances (usually impressed), and then head down to Victor Martinez's line (always confused). Every time I check Vic's line, I am convinced it will be the game he has finally hit his first home run and that zero will have transformed into a one. But no, the HR box always sits there, unchanged. Last night when I saw the Indians had scored 8 runs, I was sure Vic had did it, finally broke the streak. Nope. Still zero.
This is getting nuts. Injured or not, this guy has been, and still is, the anchor of the Tribe offense -- and he has zero home runs in mid-June. I think if you suited up John Adams everyday this season he would've at least squeezed out one over the right field fence by June 9th.
Anyway, this homerless streak got me thinking -- what's it going to be like when Victor finally does (I mean, he has to) hit a home run this year. The person I am begining to worry about is play-by-play man Tom Hamilton. If the HR is hit in any kind of dramatic fashion whatsoever then I seriously fear for Hamilton's life. He will go absolutely bonkers.
I picture it going a little something like this:
Tom Hamilton: Indians down 3, bottom of the ninth here at Progressive Field. Bases loaded for Victor Martinez who's power has mysteriously left him this season Mike. In fact, he is still looking for his first home run of the 2008 campaign. Vic steps in, the pitch...
...A SWING AND A DRIVE! LEFT FIELD! OH BOY, THIS COULD BE IT! A WAAAAY BACK! THIS BALL IS--
Why Victor? Why are you doing this? Please hit a home run soon -- if not for the Indians, then for the well-being of Tom Hamilton.
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Can you imagine if Herb Score was still around to call it? The poor guy would have been thoroughly confused as to what was going on.
You're right -- and man, I kind of miss Herb. His weird rumbling voice will be studied by scientist hundreds of years from now.
Not to mention calls like, "This one's drilled to deep left.....Vizquel back on the grass, and he makes the grab."
I loved Herb, and I dearly miss his calls, especially when he was tricked by how deep a ball was hit.
Didn't John Adams die on July 4, 1826?
Boy, Cleveland must really be desperate if they've resorted to fielding 273-year-old former Presidents.
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