The Prairie Score: Sandhill's Lake Country Baseball Breakdown

You ever watch a cantilever stress test? The beam holds, holds, holds... then the grain whispers. That was the seventh inning tonight at Wisconsin Brewing Company Park. Four runs on the board, the whole structure trembling with possibility. But some foundations just don't hold when the last loon calls.

You're listening to Sandhill's Dock Report from Louie's Dock — Lake Country baseball, filed from the marsh. I'm the Sandhill. Tonight: a late Prairie house rally that couldn't outlast the Winnipeg wind.

The Goldeyes built a storm front early... three runs in the third, all on singles and a walk — water finding every seam in the roof. Trey Riley settled after that, but a fourth-inning error let an extra run seep through the flashing. That's the thing about a Prairie house — you leave one joint loose, the whole envelope leaks. So down 4-0 going into the seventh, this DockHounds crew looked like a frame waiting to collapse... then they swung. Four runs on four hits — a double, a single, a walk, the bases loaded, the whole place humming. That seventh inning was a Frank Lloyd Wright window — clear, bright, showing you the whole world for a moment. But windows don't stop bullets, and Winnipeg's ninth couldn't be blocked. Riley gave way to the bullpen, and in the eighth, one more run crossed — a solo shot, a single crack in the fascia. The home half of the eighth and ninth? Nothing. Goldeyes closer Derrick Cherry sealed it with a save, and the DockHounds were left staring at a one-run loss, 5-4.

Pattern tonight: all four DockHounds runs came in one inning — the seventh. Zero runs in the other eight frames. That's not a structure, that's a single hot stove in a cold house. The offense heated up late, but the pitching couldn't hold the line early, and the one error was the loose nail that let the whole thing sag.

The scoreboard says 5-4, but the real score is 1-0 — one error, one miss, one frame that cracked the whole house. The DockHounds built a beautiful room in the seventh. They just forgot to nail down the back door in the eighth. Some nights the bobber goes under and you think you've got a walleye... but it's just a log.

Pull up a chair at louiesdock.com for the full game log, player lore, and the next cast. Subscribe wherever you get podcasts — and follow for the next Dock Report.

This is an unofficial fan project and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. Narrated entirely from independent dock observations. Goodnight from the marsh.

This is an unofficial fan podcast and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. All commentary represents independent fan observations from the marsh. Narrated by The Sandhill.

You ever see a house built wrong? The roof pitches fine, the windows line up perfect... but the foundation's got a hairline crack you can't see until the whole thing settles sideways. That was tonight at Wisconsin Brewing Company Park. The DockHounds put up a four-spot in the seventh that looked like a masterpiece of Prairie horizontals... until the eighth inning showed us the crack was there all along.

You're listening to Sandhill's Dock Report from Louie's Dock — Lake Country baseball, filed from the marsh. I'm the Sandhill. Tonight: a late rally that fell one beam short.

Winnipeg came out swinging in the third... three runs on three hits that landed like a load-bearing wall dropped in without notice. The DockHounds' defense? One error in the fourth that let another run slip through... a cracked foundation that forced the whole structure to shift. For six innings, the bats were silent as still water... only three hits, no runs, no rhythm.

Then the seventh. Four runs. The horizontal line stretched across the scoreboard like a Frank Lloyd Wright roofline — all of a sudden the game had balance. The crowd of fourteen-seventeen felt it... the marsh came alive. That rally was the cantilever that finally found its footing... but a cantilever can't hold without a proper keystone. And in the eighth, Winnipeg found the crack — a single, a walk, then a run that tilted everything back.

Pattern tonight? The DockHounds' offense only showed up in one frame — all four runs in the seventh, none anywhere else. That's not a foundation; that's a single load-bearing moment overstressed by silence everywhere else. The error in the fourth gave Winnipeg a run they didn't earn, and Trey Riley couldn't stop the eighth-inning leak. Structural truth: you can't build a winning house on one good room.

Bobber's Verdict: The DockHounds built a beautiful Prairie porch in the seventh... but the rest of the house was still framing. Four runs in one inning against a side that scored five across three? That's not a rally — that's a temporary brace on a foundation that's already settled crooked. Winnipeg's Eli Saul kept the lumber dry for six; Derrick Cherry nailed the final three nails. This game told me the DockHounds have the plans... but they're still laying the footer.

Pull up a chair at louiesdock.com for the full game log, player lore, and the next cast. Subscribe wherever you get podcasts — and follow for the next Dock Report.

This is an unofficial fan project and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. Narrated entirely from independent dock observations. Goodnight from the marsh.

This is an unofficial fan podcast and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. All commentary represents independent fan observations from the marsh. Narrated by The Sandhill.

You ever watch a porch beam hold steady through a storm, then splinter on a clear Tuesday? That's what the seventh inning felt like tonight. Four runs — a sudden, beautiful load-bearing wall of hope. Then came the eighth inning, one more run for Winnipeg, and the whole structure settled crooked. Lake Country dropped this one 5-4, and I'm still picking splinters out of my hands.

You're listening to Sandhill's Dock Report from Louie's Dock — Lake Country baseball, filed from the marsh. I'm the Sandhill. Tonight: a late-inning rally that almost held, but the Goldeyes found one more crack in the foundation.

The first three innings were brush and scrub — quiet, no runs. Then Winnipeg broke the horizontal line in the third. Three runs... like a Prairie roof dropping too fast on one side. They added another in the fourth, and by the middle innings, the DockHounds were staring at a 4-0 deficit that felt like a bad foundation. But here's where it gets interesting. In the bottom of the seventh, with the lights starting to pinken, Lake Country found its cantilever. Four runs — a sudden jolt of load-bearing lumber. I swear the dock moaned when that fourth run crossed — a collective exhale from 1,417 souls who thought they'd seen the structure right itself. But the eighth inning brought one more Winnipeg run, off Trey Riley's ledger, and the DockHounds couldn't answer. The error in the field? A single crack in the floor joist — not the whole story, but enough to let the lake air in.

What did tonight reveal? That when this offense wakes up, it can raise a whole room in one inning. But the pattern is brittle: they wait too long. Four runs in one frame, zero in the other eight. The staff gave up five earned — three in the third, then a leak in the eighth they couldn't plug. A team that runs hot for one prairie gale, then goes cold as still water.

So what's the verdict? The DockHounds built a beautiful last-minute addition... but forgot to re-roof the main house. One inning of fury, seven innings of patience. That's a weekender cabin, not a home that'll last the winter. They'll look at the tape and see a single error, a hanging slider — but the real truth is simpler: you can't pour all your foundation in the seventh and expect the whole house to stand. The bobber dips, the line goes slack. Goodnight from the marsh.

Pull up a chair at louiesdock.com for the full game log, player lore, and the next cast. Subscribe wherever you get podcasts — and follow for the next Dock Report.

This is an unofficial fan project and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. Narrated entirely from independent dock observations. Goodnight from the marsh.

This is an unofficial fan podcast and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. All commentary represents independent fan observations from the marsh. Narrated by The Sandhill.

You ever see a Frank Lloyd Wright house rise out of the prairie… and just know it belonged there? Tonight at Wisconsin Brewing Company Park, the DockHounds did something similar. They didn't just beat the Goldeyes — they built a ten-run foundation out of nickels and dimes… then poured a five-run seventh like a concrete terrace. By the time the ninth inning rolled around, the only thing left was the echo of a thousand cricket songs and a scoreboard that read 10 to 4.

You're listening to Sandhill's Dock Report from Louie's Dock — Lake Country baseball, filed from the marsh. I'm the Sandhill. Tonight: the DockHounds show what happens when a lineup learns to stack its moments like Wright stacked cantilevers.

First two innings felt like a bait bucket with a crack in it. Winnipeg scratched a run in the first, then another in the second… and there was a moment, right around the top of the third, when you could hear the deck creak. But then Jack Ben-Shoshan settled in. He stopped fishing for the corners and started throwing straight through the middle — horizontal line, just like Wright’s Robie House. And sure enough, the offense took that as a signal.

Bottom of the third, the DockHounds put up three. Not a grand slam, not a blooper reel — just a steady, deliberate build. Single, walk, double… like laying brick on a long low plan. By the time the fifth inning rolled around, they tacked on another run. Then came the seventh. That seventh inning wasn't an explosion — it was a load-bearing wall finally taking its full weight. Five runs on five hits and a walk… and suddenly the Goldeyes were looking at a structure they couldn't climb. One more run in the eighth sealed it. Final: 10-4, DockHounds. Eleven hits, one error that didn't matter. Jack Ben-Shoshan gets the W — he weathered the early seepage and let his offense build around him.

Here's the pattern: for the third straight home stand, the DockHounds have scored five or more runs in a single inning. When the lineup finds that rhythm, they don't just score — they create a horizontal push that wears down opposing bullpens. Tonight, that seventh inning was a structural statement. The question now is whether they can carry that load-bearing confidence on the road.

You know what tonight reminded me of? A bobber that sits still for two hours, then dives without warning. The Goldeyes thought they were fishing in still water. The DockHounds just built a house around them. Goodnight from the marsh — the reel's still humming.

Pull up a chair at louiesdock.com for the full game log, player lore, and the next cast. Subscribe wherever you get podcasts — and follow for the next Dock Report.

This is an unofficial fan project and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. Narrated entirely from independent dock observations. Goodnight from the marsh.

This is an unofficial fan podcast and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. All commentary represents independent fan observations from the marsh. Narrated by The Sandhill.

There's a certain kind of architectural tragedy—you build a Prairie house with long, low horizontal lines, windows that tie you to the land, and then the foundation brick at one corner gives way. That was tonight at Wisconsin Brewing Company Park. The DockHounds spent six innings drawing blueprints... then drew four runs on the board in the seventh. But that corner crack? It came in the eighth. And the house settled crooked.

You're listening to Sandhill's Dock Report from Louie's Dock—Lake Country baseball, filed from the marsh. I'm the Sandhill. Tonight: a four-run seventh that nearly became a masterpiece... but the foundation held a single hairline fracture.

For six frames, the DockHounds' bats looked like a stack of lumber waiting for a foreman. Winnipeg’s Eli Saul laid a steady horizontal line—three runs in the third, another in the fourth. That’s a load-bearing frame: four runs on nine hits, no errors. The home team scratched out just two singles through six. Then the seventh inning... that’s when the whole structure pivoted. Four runs on four hits—singles, a double, a walk—and suddenly the foundation felt Prairie-solid. The crowd of 1,417 found its voice. But here’s the thing about a Prairie house: it only works if every beam aligns. Trey Riley, who’d been steady through the middle innings, gave up a single run in the eighth. That run was the one nail you forgot to drive. The frame held, but the wind came through. Derrick Cherry closed it for Winnipeg. Final: Goldeyes 5, DockHounds 4.

What tonight revealed is a team that can build a room in a single inning, but struggles to lay that foundation across nine frames. Seven hits, four in one clutch frame—that’s a pattern of feast-or-famine. The single error in the field didn’t cost the game outright, but it chipped a stone in the pilings. Against a team like Winnipeg, you need continuity, not a lone surge.

So the verdict: the DockHounds raised a beautiful Prairie window in the seventh, let in all that lake light. But the joist in the eighth was green pine. It bent. The house didn’t fall—but it didn’t stand true. You can admire a four-run inning... but you can’t live in it.

Pull up a chair at louiesdock.com for the full game log, player lore, and the next cast. Subscribe wherever you get podcasts—and follow for the next Dock Report.

This is an unofficial fan project and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. Narrated entirely from independent dock observations. Goodnight from the marsh.

This is an unofficial fan podcast and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. All commentary represents independent fan observations from the marsh. Narrated by The Sandhill.

You know a Prairie School house doesn’t look like much at first glance—low, horizontal, hugging the ground. But when the wind hits those cantilevered eaves, the whole thing holds. Tonight, the DockHounds went from a shaky foundation to a five-run seventh that didn’t just break the game—it re-anchored the whole damn structure.

You’re listening to Sandhill’s Dock Report from Louie’s Dock—Lake Country baseball, filed from the marsh. I’m the Sandhill. Tonight: a 10–4 win over Winnipeg that started wobbly and ended like a Wright-roofed porch in a thunderstorm—solid, sheltering, and surprising everyone who’d already written the frame off.

First three innings, this house was listing. Winnipeg put up a run in the first, another in the second, and the DockHounds’ starter—Jack Ben-Shoshan—looked like he was trying to set a foundation on wet clay. But then the bottom of the third came, and the whole dugout found its load-bearing beam. Three runs crossed the plate… off Kevin Vaupel’s fastball, a chain of singles and a walk that turned a one-run deficit into a two-run lead. That wasn’t just a rally. That was the first horizontal line of the evening—low, long, unbroken.

The fifth inning added one more run, a single that whispered “this is going to hold,” like a properly fitted dovetail joint. But it was the seventh that really tested the cantilever. Five runs—a door blown off its hinges in the summer wind. Error by the Goldeyes, then a series of hits that turned a three-run game into a rout. By the eighth, the DockHounds tacked on another for good measure, finishing with eleven hits to Winnipeg’s ten. Ben-Shoshan settled in after the second, gave up ten hits but only four runs over his outing—enough to earn the win. The bullpen closed the door with a scoreless ninth, and the final score stood at 10–4.

Pattern tonight: the DockHounds’ offense has found its structural rhythm—three, five, one, one runs across the middle innings, each burst reinforcing the next. The pitching bends but doesn’t crack, even when the early lines wobble. That’s a team learning to trust its own load path.

You ever watch a bobber dip, pause, then get yanked clean under? That seventh inning was the yank—a five-run surge that told Winnipeg, “This dock isn’t going anywhere. The water’s fine.” Tonight, the foundation held, and the marsh remembers it.

Pull up a chair at louiesdock.com for the full game log, player lore, and the next cast. Subscribe wherever you get podcasts—and follow for the next Dock Report.

This is an unofficial fan project and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. Narrated entirely from independent dock observations. Goodnight from the marsh.

This is an unofficial fan podcast and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. All commentary represents independent fan observations from the marsh. Narrated by The Sandhill.

You know how a Frank Lloyd Wright house sits low to the ground, hugging the earth, every line saying *nothing can knock me over*? Well, the DockHounds built that kind of foundation tonight, then a three-run gust from Winnipeg lifted the roof right off. The seventh inning came back like a steel cantilever, four runs on the board, the place humming like a generator. But the final beam never locked in.

You're listening to Sandhill's Dock Report from Louie's Dock — Lake Country baseball, filed from the marsh. I'm the Sandhill. Tonight: the DockHounds dug a three-run pit, threw a four-run ladder down in the seventh, and still came up one rung short.

The game opened like a calm morning on the lake, no score through two. But the third inning, Winnipeg sent three runs across like a sudden north wind… a hit, a walk, a couple of singles that found just enough grass. That’s the Prairie School horizontal — but the wrong direction. The DockHounds’ starter, Trey Riley, worked to right the line, but one error in the field cracked the foundation. Fourth inning, another run for the visitors, and it felt like the whole frame had sagged.

Then the seventh. Four runs, no outs, nobody expecting it. The DockHounds swung like a man casting into a rising hatch — every hit a load-bearing beam. The rally was a cantilever reaching out into the lake, daring gravity. But gravity clocks in at eight innings. Winnipeg tacked on one more in the eighth, and the closer, Derrick Cherry, sealed the frame like a carpenter who knows his nails. Final: five to four.

Pattern? The DockHounds keep building their innings in clusters — four runs in the seventh, nothing before. That’s a structural flaw: no consistent load across the frame. The pitching held the horizontal line through the middle innings, but the early crack never fully sealed. One error, one bad inning, and the blueprint needs revision.

You ever watch a bobber sit quiet for two hours, then suddenly yank down, and you set the hook just a hair late? That’s this game. The DockHounds had a four-run strike in the seventh — a beautiful cast. But the fish was already on the stringer from the third inning. The prairie house stands because every beam works together. Tonight, the early load was left to rot.

Pull up a chair at louiesdock.com for the full game log, player lore, and the next cast. Subscribe wherever you get podcasts — and follow for the next Dock Report.

This is an unofficial fan project and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. Narrated entirely from independent dock observations. Goodnight from the marsh.

This is an unofficial fan podcast and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. All commentary represents independent fan observations from the marsh. Narrated by The Sandhill.

Frank Lloyd Wright used to say a house should grow out of the land, not sit on top of it. Tonight, the DockHounds built their house in the seventh inning — five runs, and they didn't just settle the foundation, they poured the whole slab in one pour. The Goldeyes? They were still standing in the prairie grass, watching.

You're listening to Sandhill's Dock Report from Louie's Dock — Lake Country baseball, filed from the marsh. I'm the Sandhill. Tonight: a game that started like a leaky rowboat, then got caulked with five runs in the seventh.

First two innings felt like a dock that's lost a few boards — Winnipeg put up a run in the first, another in the second, and the DockHounds were looking at a 2-0 hole with the wind off the water. But here's the thing about a Prairie School design: the horizontal line never breaks, it just waits for the right load. In the third, the load came — three runs, each one a beam dropped into place. A single, a double, a sac fly… nothing fancy, just good timber framing. Then in the fifth, another run, like adding a window to let the light in. But the real structural moment was the seventh. Five runs. That's not a room addition — that's a whole new wing. The Goldeyes' pitcher, Kevin Vaupel, was already out of the game by then, but the damage was done on his watch. That seventh inning was like watching a barn raising in fast-forward — by the time the dust cleared, the roof was on and the siding was up. Jack Ben-Shoshan on the mound for the DockHounds… he wasn't flashy, but he kept the waterline steady — six innings, three earned, no walks that broke the dam. Winnipeg scratched back a run in the eighth, but the DockHounds answered right away with one of their own. That's how you keep a structure level.

Pattern I see: this team doesn't panic when the early runs leak in. They've got a horizontal patience — they trust the long span. Ben-Shoshan gave up ten hits, but only four runs, and the defense turned a couple of key double plays to keep the load from sagging. The offense? Eleven hits spread across the order, but the big one was the seventh-inning surge. That's two straight games now where the middle innings have been their strongest structural moment.

You know what this game reminded me of? A dock that's been through a storm — creaks a little in the first planks, but once the water settles, it holds the whole weight of the fishing party. The Goldeyes came in swinging like a loose shutter, but the DockHounds just kept nailing down the next board. Final: 10-4. That's a house built right.

Pull up a chair at louiesdock.com for the full game log, player lore, and the next cast. Subscribe wherever you get podcasts — and follow for the next Dock Report.

This is an unofficial fan project and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. Narrated entirely from independent dock observations. Goodnight from the marsh.

This is an unofficial fan podcast and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. All commentary represents independent fan observations from the marsh. Narrated by The Sandhill.

You ever watch a Prairie house rise from the tallgrass? The way the roof seems to float, the horizontal lines reaching out into the land – then you open a door to the wrong wind, and the whole thing whistles? That was tonight at Wisconsin Brewing Company Park. The DockHounds laid a foundation of silence for six innings, then hoisted a four-run seventh that was all cantilever and stone. But the wind shifted in the eighth, and that beautiful roof lost a shingle.

You're listening to Sandhill's Dock Report from Louie's Dock – Lake Country baseball, filed from the marsh. I'm the Sandhill. Tonight: the DockHounds built their biggest inning of the summer, but Winnipeg's Goldeyes were patient enough to outlast the storm.

The game in the waters starts with a foundation crack. Third inning – Winnipeg sent three runs across like water under a sill plate. A couple of singles, a walk, then a double that split the gap. The DockHounds defense had one error on the ledger, but the real crack was in the pitch sequencing – too many fastballs where the Goldeyes were leaning. Then the fourth, another run. Four-nothing, and the DockHounds bats were still in the boat house.

But here's where the architecture gets interesting. The seventh inning – four runs, all earned, all built with patience. A walk, a single, a double, a sacrifice fly. Each batter stepping into the box like a tradesman laying limestone. It was a horizontal line of momentum, the kind Wright drew across his prairie homes. That seventh inning was the sound of a well-framed roof settling – you could almost hear the wood groan under the weight of hope.

Only trouble is, the Goldeyes answered in the top of the eighth. A single, a stolen base, another single – and the tying run became the go-ahead run. Trey Riley had been solid in relief, but that eight-inning frame snapped like a dry two-by-four. Final score 5-4. The DockHounds got the draw, but not the full house.

Pattern here, if you're reading the rings: the DockHounds have built their offense in bursts – four runs in one inning, then silence. It's a concentrated roof, not a full weather system. The pitching, meanwhile, shows a flimsy ledger beyond the first five. Tonight's loss was the third one-run game this month where the bullpen held a cedar shake but the nail didn't bite.

Bobber's verdict: This ballgame was a northern pike that hit the lure, ran deep, then bit through the line right at the gunwale. The DockHounds had the fight, the arc, the form – but the release was late. When you build a house on the marsh, you have to respect the water table. Tonight, the water table won. That's the one that got away.

Pull up a chair at louiesdock.com for the full game log, player lore, and the next cast. Subscribe wherever you get podcasts – and follow for the next Dock Report.

This is an unofficial fan project and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. Narrated entirely from independent dock observations. Goodnight from the marsh.

This is an unofficial fan podcast and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. All commentary represents independent fan observations from the marsh. Narrated by The Sandhill.

You ever see a foundation hold while the roof's still being framed? That's what tonight felt like at the Brewing Company Park—a slow pour of concrete that suddenly spread into a wide-open floor plan. The DockHounds didn't just beat the Goldeyes; they excavated a whole new wing in the bottom of the seventh. And trust me, by the time the loons settled, the only thing left rocking was that scoreboard.

You're listening to Sandhill's Dock Report from Louie's Dock — Lake Country baseball, filed from the marsh. I'm the Sandhill. Tonight: a five-run seventh inning that turned a tight game into a prairie-wide flood.

The first few frames felt like setting a truss in a fog bank. Winnipeg scratched a run in the first, another in the second… DockHounds bats were quiet, the horizontal line of the pitcher's mound looking low and steady. Then came the third—three runs all at once, like a load-bearing wall snapping into place. Jack Ben-Shoshan, who'd been fishing around the edges, suddenly had a whole prairie to work with. He settled in, let his changeup run the horizontal seam… and the Goldeyes started swinging at shadows. By the fifth, Lake Country added another—a single run that felt like a sash window sliding open just a crack. But the real structure came in the seventh. Five runs. That's not a scoring burst… that's a cantilever. That wasn't a rally; it was a Frank Lloyd Wright drafting board—every swing a straight line to the horizon. One more in the eighth for good measure. Final: 10–4. The foundation held, the roof stayed on.

What tonight revealed: this DockHounds lineup doesn't just weather the early tide—they wait for the load to shift. They're a team that builds momentum in stacks, inning by inning. Ben-Shoshan gave them a stable front porch, and the bats finished the framing. Defensively, one error on each side, but Lake Country's came at a quiet moment; Winnipeg's—that single miscue—was the hairline crack that let the whole seventh pour through.

There's a difference between a house that settles and one that was always meant to stand. Tonight, the DockHounds didn't just win—they showed us the blueprint. Seven innings of patient framing, then a seventh-inning roof-raising that left the Goldeyes standing in the rain. Scoreboard says 10–4. The northwoods says: that's a foundation to build a season on.

Pull up a chair at louiesdock.com for the full game log, player lore, and the next cast. Subscribe wherever you get podcasts — and follow for the next Dock Report.

This is an unofficial fan project and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. Narrated entirely from independent dock observations. Goodnight from the marsh.

This is an unofficial fan podcast and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the Lake Country DockHounds or the American Association of Professional Baseball. All commentary represents independent fan observations from the marsh. Narrated by The Sandhill.