Robin Yount walked out to throw the first pitch of the World Series in Milwaukee last night wearing Bob Uecker's loud plaid sport coat. Then he took it off and held it high toward the press box. Underneath, he was wearing his own number 19 Brewers jersey. Across the shoulders, where YOUNT used to be, it said UECK. Milwaukee waited forty-four years for this game. Uecker called Brewers games on the radio for fifty-four seasons. He passed away nine months before he could call this one. So Milwaukee brought his coat to the mound. I watched the video three times. Where I come from, when a master falls before the final battle is reached, the next warrior carries the master's sword onto the field so his spirit can see the banners fly. I never knew a plaid sport coat could carry as much weight as a sword. Last night, it carried all of it.

Milwaukee Brewers fans showed up to tailgate World Series Game 1 at nine in the morning. The parking lot gates were still locked. First pitch was ten hours away. In old Japan, when ten thousand people camp outside a fortress at dawn with iron cauldrons, smoke, and provisions, it is called a siege. Milwaukee laid siege to its own castle. Out of pure love. With bratwurst and folding chairs. When reporters told Christian Yelich that fans had been lined up since nine, he said he was surprised it took them that long. In my land, a general knows the battle is already half won when his people light the morning fires before the gates even open. Nobody guards a castle like the Midwest in October.