The Miraculous Ninth-Inning Rally and the Healing Power of Chicken-Fried Steak

A few years ago on a summer night like this one I was watching a baseball game on ESPN, Dodgers and Phillies in Dodger stadium. Actually it was several years ago--we were living in the Vancouver apartments and Roger couldn't have been more than four. Tommy Lasorda was still managing the Dodgers. It was one of those nights for the Phillies where nothing went right, and by the ninth the Dodgers had a nine-run lead. But then in the ninth, their last chance, the Phillies strung together a few hits and the Dodgers made a couple of miscues and a series of Dodger relief pitchers had trouble finding the strike zone and within twenty minutes or so fortunes had completely changed, and by the time it was over the Philies put together a ten-run inning to win the game.

It happens every once in a while in sports, and it's one of the most enjoyable experiences a fan can have. I wasn't a fan of either team that night, but the most entertaining part was watching Tommy Lasorda go ballistic in the dugout, slamming the water cooler and screaming at his pitching coach. It wasn't hard to read his lips. He was using the words that crossed my mind just now when I lost a 9000-chip pot to an idiot who checked-raised me all-in on the flop with second pair (I had top pair with an ace kicker) and then hit trips on the turn after all the money went in. Another five-card out, gloriously victorious, and I was on the rail. Earlier this morning a three-outer busted me 30 from the money, $55 gone on the turn of a seven. I won $55 today, but I could have easily made five times as much. Poker players are like fishermen, always mourning the ones that got away.

Fortunately life has its compensations. Today was so much a better day than yesterday, and I feel revived and infinitely more alive. I had two good naps and a workout, talked to Marie a few minutes on the phone. Today is the third anniversary of our first date. Oh my goodness, it was such an amazing date. The sparks flew. She wore this long figure-hugging red dress. We met at that place in Tualatin, the one they tore down to build another upscale mini-mall, and had a glass of wine and talked. Then we heard Dub Debrie at the blues jam at The Country Inn, danced a little. We took a walk under the moonlight around the lake in the center of the courtyard, sat on a bench and talked some more and kissed for the first time. I was gone for that girl the first time I met her, and I still am. We worked out together Saturday morning and had lunch. The spark is still there. Nothing could snuff it out. But of course it takes more than spark to make a life together. At this point it would be hard to heal the hurt of separation, and it would be hard to disagree without all the old stuff getting dredged up all over again. But oh my that girl in that red dress. I will never get her out of my head, and I don't want to. It's all right to have a few longings and regrets. You haven't lived if you don't.

I chatted with Richard for a few minutes and walked over to a neighborhood restaurant, Calamity Jae's, for dinner. I wanted a plate of home cooking, something hot and filling, prepared by someone else and served with a smile. The special was chicken-fried steak. My dad introduced me to the glories of chicken-fried steak and hot roast beef sandwiches when I was a boy. Occasionally he would take me on his trucking trips or hauling a load of melons to the warehouse and we'd have dinner or lunch at a roadside diner, and these were two of the recommended options. If a person ate them every day you'd weigh 450 lbs, but once in a while there is nothing more pleasing and comforting than a hot meal with gravy and mashed potatoes and corn. I had to take half of it home but it was so good, perfectly seasoned, that I munched the rest of it between hands. When my idiot opponent covered himself in glory by busting me with the worst of it all I could do is chug some more of my water and walk away from the computer.

There'll be a night when the miracle draws fail, and I'll hit one or two of my own, and I'll have a nice payday. And when I do I'll call Marie up and ask her to dinner, and ask her to wear the red dress. If the moon is right I'll kiss her again and ask her if we can come home.