A friend had an extra ticket to a baseball game that was played today. It started at 1:05pm, Pacific time. I had this figured very closely. Leaving at about 10 o'clock would get me to the parking lot no later than 12:45.
After the football, I considered blowing the baseball off, but they were pretty nice seats, and I didn't want to waste my buddy's money. Of course, I spent the whole drive bitching to no one at all about some combination of Chelsea, Wigan, Blackburn, Bayern Munich and Liverpool. I think at one point I was actually cursing out Maradona. I'm still trying to figure that one out.
I get to the game on time, but my heart's not in it. I made some caf posts in the first few innings, at which point Todd explained that my phone was either going in my pocket or onto the field. Well alright, we'd just scored a 2nd run, and our pitcher had made quick work of the Rays' lineup, not allowing a baserunner in those first three innings. I noticed that in the top of the fourth, when Jason Bartlett led off the inning.
The Rays' three hitters would all make outs in that inning. The same thing happened in the next inning. And the next.
There is a superstition in baseball that you don't mention it when a pitcher is throwing a no-hitter (or that rarest of rarities, a perfect game.) You don't even say the words "no-hitter" or "perfect". Only I hadn't paid much attention the first three innings. So, I found a way around it. "Have they hit into any double plays?" I asked Todd. "Nope," Todd answered, immediately knowing what I was getting at. "Hm. Made any outs on the basepaths?" "Nope." "I see." "Yep."
Todd is a man of few words.
It was an amazing performance. Any no-hitter relies on timely, usually clever defensive plays. We had those but really there was maybe only one or two where an actual hit was taken away. The best play was 3rd baseman Kevin Kouzmanoff catching a pop foul before running into the A's dugout in the 8th inning.
It was an amazing game. It reminded me why baseball is still my first sporting love. And though the crowd wasn't large, it was loud by the time the final out was made on a routine groundball to short. And while the chant might not stack up against most football songs, I am still shouting "LET'S GO OAK-LAND!"