THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Tuesday, April 9, 1996 TAG: 9604090476
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Tom Robinson
LENGTH: Medium: 61 lines
Things from the notebook . . .
It's like that Capistrano swallows thing, and I can't figure out why. So I offer a warning: The next time you're at a Norfolk Tides game that's tied as the ninth inning ends, walk down the aisle at your own risk.
Because heading up the aisle at that same time, without fail, will be an exodus worthy of Moses.
Latest case in point: Opening Night, last Thursday.
The Tides and Toledo Mud Hens were locked in a scoreless tie after a swiftly played nine innings. It was maybe 9:45 on a warm, pleasant evening.
Most kids didn't have school the next day. Sure, plenty of their parents still had to get up for work Friday morning. But by the way the paid crowd of nearly 10,000 thinned to less than half that in a matter of minutes, you'd have thought everybody's car was on fire.
The first game of the season wasn't compelling enough to linger at least another inning, just out of curiosity? Gets me, but this happens every time, day game or night game, warm or cold - at the end of nine, it's departin' time, lack of a final score notwithstanding.
You wonder if the Tides ought to post signs reminding their audiences that, after nine, it's FREE baseball. No extra charge.
I am pleased to report, however, that for however long you sit at Harbor Park this season, you'll not be assaulted by the incessant noise pollution that fouled the place last year.
The Tides have adopted a less aggressive public address system posture regarding the sound effects that pour from the outfield speakers. Last season, it was as if somebody ordered every moment of inactivity filled with an annoying sound effect - shattering glass, Three Stooges schtick, yahooing cowboys, Wave-leading bimbos, game-show themes and other vapid stuff.
It was fun to a point - but the point of diminishing returns was reached quickly. The club realized this and, with a new guy in the sound booth, decided to retain the filler but trot it out less frequently.
``I'm in favor of the sound effects, but not after every single pitch,'' Tides president Ken Young said. ``I think the people that are here every night will notice a little bit of a scale-back.''
I enjoyed one of the coolest sports thrills I've had in a while last Saturday. I watched Bob Learn Jr. of Erie, Pa., in front of a raucous hometown crowd, bowl a perfect game on TV.
I'm telling you, Princeton-UCLA in the NCAA tournament was pretty fine, but this Learn-Johnny Petraglia match in the Flagship Open had me transfixed.
The drama was double because Petraglia was nearly perfect himself with 11 strikes and a 279 game. But Learn attacked each frame. Psyched, he pumped his fist and signaled ``One more!'' to the crowd after his 11th strike.
After his 12th, Learn was wrapped in a bear hug and joyfully hoisted by Petraglia himself, the last man to bowl a televised 300 game.
Making it even better was my seat: In my parents' living room in Pennsylvania, watching with my dad, just like on all my Saturdays when we'd catch the afternoon telecast after he got home from work.
Perfect. by CNB