A sad au revoir to the Expos

Sporting News, The, Oct 11, 2004 by Kara Yorio

Denial died the day the Expos' move from Montreal to Washington, D.C., was made official. The announcement turned the game that night--the team's final home game in Olympic Stadium--into an emotional thank you and goodbye. There were tears and cheers from the 31,395 who finally found their way back to this charm-less old ballpark. The evening became a collection of scenes strung together by the songs choked out over the insufficient sound system. The lyrics of this final, sad soundtrack reminded everyone this night was about more than one baseball game.

At 4:45 p.m., the speakers kick to life, bringing sound to the stadium that previously had heard only the intermittent thwap of ball hitting glove.

   This love has taken its toll on me
   She said goodbye too many times before

About 15 minutes later, thousands of fans stream into the stadium, down the stairs and onto the field. Most walk across the outfield and line up to get autographs from players at tables set up on the center field warning track, but all across the outfield, people lie down and stare at the roof above.

   Well, here in the valley of indecision
   I don't know what to do
   I feel you slipping away
   I feel you slipping away
   I'm losing you

Eventually, the fans are asked to return to their seats. They do so at a funeral-procession pace. At 7:09 p.m., the Expos take the field to the first of what will be many standing ovations.

      Remember the day I set you free
      I told you you could always count on
   me
      From that day on I made a vow
      I'll be there when you want me, some way, somehow

A few innings into the game, a couple of golf balls are thrown onto the field, and Expos manager Frank Robinson pulls his team off. The Expos return 10 minutes later and play on.

   But when you talk about destruction
   Don't you know that you can count me out?
   Don't you know it's going to be all right?

Tensions subside, and eventually the team, down 9-1, takes the field for the top of the ninth and receives a standing ovation that lasts the entire half-inning.

   So take the photographs and still frames in your mind
   Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time
   Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial
   For what it's worth, it was worth all the while
   It's something unpredictable but in the end is right
   I hope you had the time of your life

Chad Cordero strikes out two batters and forces a groundout to bring on the bottom of the ninth.

   And now the end is near
   And so I face the final curtain

At 10:01 p.m., Terrmel Sledge pops up to third base, flashbulbs fill the stadium, and it's over. Almost immediately, the entire team is back on the field.

   I will remember you
   Will you remember me?

The players pass a microphone and thank the fans in French, English and Spanish. Players sign autographs and take pictures. And, slowly, they leave, off to a fresh start in America's capital.

      Closing time ...
      So gather up your jackets, and move it
   to the exits
      I hope you have found a friend
      Closing time ...
      Every new beginning comes from
   some other beginning's end

Some fans refuse to leave, staying for more than an hour in the stands. Former season-ticket holder Nicolas Poulin sits alone in his yellow seat. He is wearing his No. 29 jersey, in honor of former Expo Tim Wallach, and drove more than two hours from Ottawa for the game when it became clear the team's move was really going to happen this time. He is sad, and he is angry.

"I feel like something was stolen from me," he says. "From the province."

Poulin looks out at the field one last time, hangs his head and walks slowly down the stairs toward the exit. The speakers are silent. The end is here.