So here's how the whole rain/weather/tarp thing works: we subscribe to a satellite weather service (from here on out referred to as "Weather") and they tell us what Mother Nature intends to do to us over the next few hours to several days.
At least, that's how it's supposed to work in theory.
How it actually works in practice is a completely different matter.
I had always assumed that when we call Weather (that's a term you'll hear about 40-50 times a day on days there's even the slightest chance of rain. "Did you call Weather?" "I'll call Weather." "What did they say when you called Weather?") there are hundreds of operators sitting in a room with interactive maps, like a scene out of
24,
War Games, or
Apollo 13. I assumed that the guy on the other end of the phone when we call Weather had some kind of exclusive access to a Doppler-5000-type of satellite that can pinpoint any directional change in storm fronts within a 1,000 mile radius of us. I assumed these things because Steve and Ponte (our groundskeeper) treat the word of Weather like it's coming from the
Big Guy In Charge of Weather, himself.
However, more and more, I'm beginning to think that the guy on the other end of the phone when we call Weather is a 19-year-old named Herman, sitting in his underwear in his mother's basement playing Halo or something and
pulling up weather.com on his dad's Commodore 64 every time we call.
I also think it's a little absurd that we stand around outside and call someone in another part of the country who's inside to have him tell us what the weather is.
Thanks to today's fake Hurricane panic (after "bracing in the Northeast for Earl's fury" we got about 17 drops of rain), Steve and Ponte were burning up the phone lines all morning, calling Weather. Here's a brief sampling of how it played out:
7am: Steve calls Weather to check on the day's weather. He is told that it will probably rain and be windy.
7:05am: Ponte calls Weather to check on the day's weather. He is told that it will probably rain and be windy.
8am: Steve calls Weather to check on the day's weather. He is told that it will probably rain and be windy.
8:05am: Ponte calls Weather to check on the day's weather. He is told that it will probably rain and be windy.
9am: Steve calls Weather to check on the day's weather. He is told that it will probably rain and be windy.
9:05am: Ponte calls Weather to check on the day's weather. He is told that it will probably rain and be windy.
10am: Steve calls Weather to check on the day's weather. There is no answer.
11am: Ponte calls Weather. He is told that the impending storm might miss us altogether. Or we could get hit hard by it. Or anything in between.
12pm: Steve calls Weather. The person on the other end does not speak English.
1:30pm: Steve alerts the office that we will be "peeling back the tarp" so Ponte can work on the field.
1:30pm-2:30pm: Ponte works on the field.
2:30pm: Steve gathers everyone to take the tarp off the field.
2:31pm: It starts to rain.
2:32pm: Walking alongside him to the tarp, I tell Ponte "It's raining." He says "Let me call Weather." I explain to him that we are actually outdoors, and can see, hear, and feel the rain drops. He insists on calling Weather.
2:33pm: Ponte calls Weather. He is told that it is not raining.
2:34pm-2:45pm: I relentlessly mimic and mock Steve and Ponte calling Weather ("Hi, Weather? This is Steve in Brooklyn. I'm outside and it's raining and windy. Can you tell me if it'll be raining and windy in Brooklyn today?").
2:46pm: Ponte says Weather told him there was a "big green thing sitting right above us." I ask if he thinks it's an alien invasion, the Incredible Hulk, or a fire-breathing dragon. He tells me "on the radar." (Hmmmm...like the kind you find on weather.com...interesting.) Ponte continues, unfazed (or unaware that I am making fun of him), saying that Weather also told him "if we're not getting anything, it might miss us," and "he really can't predict anything." So to recap this latest call with Weather, if you're outside and it's not raining on you, it's probably not raining in your area. Also, no one can predict the weather.
3:00pm: Steve tells the office that he talked to Weather, the "storm" has missed us, and we're in the clear for tonight's game.
Once again, it has been proven that meteorologists are today's snake-oil salesmen, weather reports are completely untrustworthy, and when we call Weather we're probably interrupting Herman and his buddies in a rousing game of Dungeons & Dragons.
Either way, the good news is that it looks like we're still on track for a 7pm game tonight, despite all the hype about Earl washing us out to sea. So come on down for another great night of Cyclones baseball!
Of course, weather can change on a dime, and no one can really predict it, anyway.
We better call Weather again, just to be safe.
-- Dave
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