Hagerstown will have to wait

The temperatures in America this week have made me think twice about stepping outside. Now don't get me wrong, I like warm weather, and I don't want to sound spoilt when I'm aware of the usual dodgy weather in Britain. However, 45 degrees Celsius is too much. But when the thunderstorms roll in, and then out again, it leaves the coldest 30 degree temperatures I've ever experienced. Perfect for watching baseball.
The only snag to my plan on Friday was being on holiday. A holiday that had been deemed by my wife as a "no baseball" holiday. I'd agreed to this, largely because I'm an accommodating sort of guy, but also because we would only be away for three days. Three days, no baseball, easy. Well, maybe not.
I blame the Washington Nationals. Before last week I'd planned three games in three days to the north of Washington on my own. Then the Nationals brought back $2 ticket Tuesday and I had to scrap my Hagerstown trip. I'd mulled over what to do about this, and decided that Hagerstown could wait for another season. That was until we went on holiday.
Berkeley Springs is in West Virginia, but only 35 miles from Hagerstown, Maryland. The town was small and quiet, and we'd booked two nights. The 1940s cinema took up the first night, but what about the second? A quick check of my phone found Hagerstown v Augusta, game on.
Like I said, I'm an accommodating guy, my wife was given the option of what we could do, and soon after we were on the road to Maryland.
I've driven through most of Maryland before, and the scenery driving down to Hagerstown was much the same as anyway else in the state. Trees, trees and trees. Then we entered Hagerstown, and straight away wished we hadn't bothered.
The houses are ramshackled, the strip malls are old and dirty, there are huge railway sidings with very few trains, and factories litter the town, many looking in disrepair. But the one beacon of light (literally, as the floodlights were on), was the Municipal Stadium. There in all its glory. You even get to park for free. Brilliant. But hang on a second, people appear to be driving away. I'm sure there should be a floodlight where there isn't one. Oh. Oh dear.
The picture on my phone told the bad news. There was the missing floodlight, collapsed in a heap on the outfield. You couldn't make it up.
Apparently it was a freak storm. So freaky in fact that only the middle of the town appeared to have been affected by it. There was a road closed because a tree had fallen down. A few branches and twigs on the ground, but a floodlight, really.
My original plan was to write about the South Atlantic League after going to three different ballparks and watching six different teams. But with that idea in tatters, I was left to mull over my options during the journey back to West Virginia, with my wife looking at me from the corner of her eye. At least it wasn't too late for dinner.