12 April 2007

Almost History

i received a phone call last night at 8:59 pm, EST. It went something like this:


Me: Yeah?

Cree: Hello Charile. Dude, can you fucking believe this shit? I'm so pissed.

Me: I know, man. I don't even know what to think. The fact that it might...uhh...that...man, I can't even say it. I feel like I'll jinx the Sox if I do.

Cree: I know, but we gotta do something, dude. This can't happen.

Me: I think we just have to mention it...the no-hitter, and that it's still alive. Orsillo just mentioned it before the commercial, so he's in on it, too.

Cree: Ok, good. This is just so fucking ridiculous, dude.


After we hung up, I received a text message from Cree, reading "Captain goes opp. field for 2b or hr", suggesting that 'Tek would come up and ruin the no-hitter bid with either a double or a homer. I replied seconds before Drew came to the plate with this: "I'm thinking Drew, wall-ball double."

Now, we all know at this point that Drew did indeed break up the no-no with a sharp single up the middle, just under the diving glove of Jose Lopez. Clearly I was off in my attempt to call the hit that would end Hernandez's bid for history, but I'll take a partial on this one. Not only did I do my part and channeling some of my optimism to the head of JD Drew, but I also administered three precise changes within my personal zone to break the pattern. I first took off my Sox hat and placed it on the table. Second, I removed my zip-up hoodie and replaced it with a WBCN/Patriots t-shirt that Carl had given me only hours before. It happened to be next to me on the couch. Third, I slid off the band-aid that was on my left index finger.

Say what you will about superstition, about creating a sense of hope for yourself, all that sort of stuff. But when all is said and done, who really knows why JD Drew was able to solve the newly legal (to drink) Felix Hernandez just that one time last night. Several other balls were hit that could have produced the same result, but Seattle's defense was superb in that game. Honestly, I thought Hernandez was going to do it. I had a feeling. The game had all the makings of the next no-hitter: it's the first few weeks of the season (Cree reminded me last night that some ridiculous percentage of no-hitters occur in the first few and last few weeks of the season, historically); the Sox weren't catching any breaks on balls hit that could have fallen and conversely, Seattle's D was making very difficult plays look somewhat routine; Hernandez had thrown just 80 pitches through 7 innings; and finally, but I think most crucially, this was supposed to be Dice's night. When all the hype and anticipation surrounding our prized Japanese goldenboy was at its peak, the show was stolen by a 21 year-old kid from Venezuela who signed with the Mariners on his 16th birthday in 2002. It's the last thing that could possibly happen on a night like that, isn't it?

To put this into perspective, it's just another tally in the loss column for the Sox and subsequently the first loss for Matsuzaka in a Sox uniform. It's amazing to me how much can be affected by one man getting one hit in the latter stages of a bid for a no-hitter. In one instance, you're thinking that we're gonna have to hear about this for a long time to come as a Boston fan and a moment later, that thought is erased from your memory forever. Hernandez would have become the youngest player in American League history to throw a no-hitter but instead, he's just the current AL leader in ERA, OBA, wins and a slew of other things that won't last very long. He will, however, probably have two or three more chances to surpass Vida Blue as the youngest pitcher ever in the AL to throw one.

Aside from all of this hype and drama that infected Fenway Park last night, perhaps we saw two of the brightest and most promising arms in baseball facing off against each other. They're two young guys who are new-or at least fairly new- to the major leagues. Both have stellar command of more than one or two pitches. Both are foreign-grown talent and both will probably win about 15-20 games this season, barring injury. But the biggest difference between them isn't that one is Japanese and one is Venezuelan. It's not that one is 6'3, 230 and the other 5'11, 187. And it's not that one plays for the most storied franchise in baseball and one for a franchise struggling to find an identity. It's that Matsuzaka will earn $8 million this season and Hernandez will earn $420,000.

7 comments:

richlevine said...

once it became clear that the sox weren't gonna touch felix for a run, i think i was secretly rooting for the no-hitter. i don't think i've ever watched one live wire-to-wire.

Charles said...

I certainly have not and I think some part of me wouldn't have minded seeing Hernandez do it. I'm wondering though...would the fans at Fenway have done the right thing and given him the proper acknowledgement had he done it?

Jum said...

I hadn't even seen a no-hitter go to the 8th before last night, but since it was against the Sox, I was not properly excited by the possibility. At all.
Also it was the big night for Alex to watch her first full game and pick a favorite player. Needless to say we're giving it another shot.

Jum said...

Oh yes and I have been meaning to tell you: McGriddles = McAwesome.

richlevine said...

i feel like they def woulda given him a standing O. I feel like Sox fans respect good baseball, especially in a game so early in the season and void of real significance..

Charles said...

I think any true baseball fan would remain at the park if there was a no-hitter intact, no matter the team, the day, the weather, whatever. If it were Sox/Yanks, game 7 of the ALCS and it was a complete blowout in NY's favor...but Pavano was working on a...wait, fuck that. That would never happen and I'd be puking in the aisle anyway. Bad example.

As far as McGriddles...other breakfast sandwiches will seem subpar from now on, so be careful. But they are little bundles of goodness.

Jum said...

I don't really know how I feel about the fact that I have reached the point where, in a relatively meaningless game, I wasn't simply enjoying the brilliance of Felix, only because he was pitching against Boston. Not proud, I suppose. My 11-year old self would be pissed at me.