To hear the Marlins tell it, they played Saturday night's game in unbearably torturous conditions, as if forced to toil under the piercing sonic horror usually reserved for cracking prisoners of war or breaking the will of suspected terrorists.

No doubt some present would agree, though we aren't among them. But last night's culprit wasn't a Bond villian armed with a Spice Girls cassingle, it was a small air horn modeled after the South African vuvuzelas making waves at the World Cup.

15,000 of them, to be exact, given one to a fan until supplies ran out. And for each of them, an opinion was given on just how excruciating or enlivening was the resulting din.

Outfielder Cody Ross:

"It was awful, awful. I can’t tell you how awful it was.”

Team president David Samsom, even after hearing from the clubhouse:

"I find it hard to believe that any player or manager on any team would complain about noise and atmosphere. Our players don't enjoy playing in front of small, silent crowds. I would expect them to enjoy the atmosphere. I know our fans did." 

Outfielder Chris Coghlan, via Twitter, so (sic):

"Im having a hard time sleeping cause i have this painful ringing from those stupid horns at the game tonight!!"

SBNations' Jon Bois:

"It actually sounds... kind of good! In a somewhat inaccessible fashion, sure, but still interesting. It sounds...very much like experimental Norwegian jazz."

Umpire crew chief Tom Hallion:

"It was the most uncomfortable baseball game I've been a part of in a long time."

Second baseman Dan Uggla, who spent the game in ear plugs: 

"That was the worst handout or giveaway I’ve ever been a part of in baseball. This isn’t soccer. I know the World Cup is going on, but this is baseball." 

Yes, and it's Marlins baseball, which has long been in need of both a signature atmosphere and, well, proof that anyone cares. The vuvuzelas provided both, even if their smaller size made them sound more like children's toys than the lusty locust drone heard in soccer stadiums in South Africa and South America.

"I dug it," wrote Dave Hill, proprietor of MarlinsDieHards.com. "The problem with Marlins games is that the usually small crowds create a relatively sedate atmosphere even during the more exciting moments. Last night was different. Every beat writer I follow on Twitter noticed the difference, and even though they were for the most part annoyed by the horns, they apreciated the energy at the park."

So did we. And perhaps, most importantly, so did the Marlins organist, in perhaps the cutest toot-along ever. And what's more non-soccer than he is?

If the Marlins were really interested in any sort of home field advantage -- "cavernous silence" wasn't much of one, last we checked -- they might be wise to embrace the air horns and go buzz to the wall for the rest of the year. At some point, like World Cup viewers, they'd get used to it, leaving the sleepless nights and ringing ears to opponents.

Judging from last night's 11 walks and inability to send runners home, a large bleating kazoo doing experimental Norwegian jazz just might be the only advantage they've got. We suffered through something "awful, awful," too, and it had nothing to do with noise.