Hit it again, baby!
At the games hosted by the Beer League de West Texas y Southeast New Mexico League, the razita in the stands was as big an attraction to the fans as the games themselves. Everybody was there to have fun. The games were, while entertaining and loud, always peaceful affairs. There were no opposing seats or sections. Fans did indeed come to support their home team, but it didn’t really matter to them whether they won or lost. For it was an excuse for raza from one town to go and engage raza, kin more often than not, from another town in the region.
Like with everything having to do with human beings, there were always celebrity fans and legendary tales.
One memorable story involves Chonita Rodriguez, a beautiful boisterous chatterbox of a young woman who always made herself the center of attention with her loud and funny comments, sometimes even to the point of affecting the game.
One late summer Sunday afternoon in Monitos, a baseball tournament was winding down, and as usual, the Southside Dorados and the Mirlangas Potrillos were in the final game. It was a tight game, with the Potrillos scoring every inning in visitor position and the Dorados tying at the bottom of every inning.
Chonita, who’s boyfriend, a cop originally from East Atlanta, was throwing down hell fire on the Potrillos from the bleachers.
“You keep pulling your drawers, shortstop. That cuz you feel a ball rolling through your legs?” she shouted to the delight of the fans.
“You can’t handle what comes off my man’s bat, fielder!” she shouted at the center fielder.
Chonita continually lobbed one volley after another, each one more brazen.
Finally in the ninth inning, with the Potrillos ahead by one point, and the bases loaded for the Dorados with one out left for the game to be won or lost with a hit, Chonita’s boyfriend came up to bat.
“Here comes the big bat, yall!” she shouted and stirred the crowd.
Nine pitches later, the count was three balls and two strikes. The tension in the stands peaked.
The batter, a musclebound man, stepped away from the plate to rosin his bat and re-focus. He then turned toward Chonita, and Chonita reacted with whoops and hollers.
“Yeah, baby!” she yelled and waved at him.
The batter stepped back into the batter’s box and waited for the next pitch.
“Hit it like you always do, babe!” Chonita said as the pitcher wound up.
The crowd went silent then, in unisonance, burst out laughing.
The batter and everybody on the field and in the dough outs looked up, except the umpire and pitcher, who shot a fast ball through the strike zone with the batter looking away.
“Strike!” the umpire shouted.
The Potrillos had won, and the crowd drowned out whatever Chonita said afterwards.
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