(Please note this was written July 23 at 4:00pm PT, and due to Blogger error was not posted until the next day.)
I have been trying to calm down for the last hour, but I simply can't. The only outlet for my energy is to preserve this moment in words, so at least I can show my kids something about this once-in-a-lifetime occasion.
Mark Buehrle just pitched a perfect game.
Nine consecutive innings of 3-up, 3-down pitching, in one game. The enormity of the accomplishment is mind-boggling. The fact that it happened while I was in another state, driving and talking to a stranger and eating a crappy lunch, in a time zone two hours behind, and completely unaware of its occurrence is absolutely crushing to me.
I love my city. I love my team. I love my crappy apartment 3 blocks from Comiskey, a.k.a. The Cell, a.k.a. The Joan. I love it all with a deep sense of belonging and ownership. I have been a South Sider my whole life, and despite a myriad of potentially convincing reasons to jump ship, I sincerely doubt I will any time soon. In fact, my recent life decisions have successively brought me closer and deeper into the South Side location and culture.
I remember starting PAULIE! PAULIE! chants in the bleachers with the LXF before it was fashionable. Frank Thomas's biceps, nostrils, and towering 5-foot waistline were my childhood heroes. Some very close to me could even tell you about the summertime Konerko theme song. And let's not forget Tim Raines.
So it definitely stings a bit that I am sitting in hoitey-toitey California right now. I wish I were with my family, where I was when the Sox won the championship. And if not there, I wish I was watching the game in my apartment, where a 4-minute sprint would have taken me to a scalper or the box-office after the 7th inning so I could watch it all happen in person. Hell, I wish I was able to watch it in any form.
I don't mean to bitch. I really don't. But right now I feel like a hampster. I have so much pent-up excitement, and no amount of time on that god damn wheel will satisfy it. I want so badly to be with my family and/or friends and gush over what just happened today. The people here don't care. I mean, it's San Diego. It's always sunny and it is pretty outside. There's a reggae band playing by the pool.
They just don't get it.
And people who do get it might not even truly get it, because there's so much to get. Let me try to convey. Here's a list of things that make this moment so surreal to me:
- The opponent. I will forever hate the Rays. Their stupid dome in Florida. The incessant cowbells. The idiotic glasses on Joe Maddon. The creepy motivational posters in their clubhouse. The fact that they are a very talented, well-balanced baseball team. I don't know which gives El Perfecto more significance: the Sox-Rays rivalry that has developed, or the simple fact that Buehrle dominated so soundly such a quality team.The combination of both makes it a dizzying achievement.
- The timing. Game 4 of a homestand against a solid team. The victory gives the Sox a 3-1 series victory, ties them for first place in the AL Central, and pumps them up as they head to Detroit. If they win the next series, they will gain sole possession of the division lead.
- Historical significance. The 18th perfect game in history? Are you kidding me? Can you imagine what it that feels like? Okay, listen. For a little over six months every year, every single day more than two dozen pitchers get a chance to do what Buehrle did. And, after well over a century of repeated attempts, Buehrls is just the 18th person to accomplish it. Wow. Not only that, but he already has a no-no in his pocket. OnlySandy Koufax, Cy Young, Jim Bunning, Randy Johnson and Addie Joss have done the same thing. Unreal.
- Ridiculous Buehrle career accomplishments. Four-time All-Star. Winning pitcher in '05 All-Star game. Two victories in '05 playoffs. Earned a save in '05 World Series. Has a championship ring. Pitched a no-hitter. Hit a home run. Pitched a perfect game. And get this: he was personally commended by the President of the United States TWICE within nine days. This guy was picked in the 38th round of the amateur draft!
- The man himself. I love Mark Buehrle. He is an elite athlete but he is a tremendous man. To me, he represents the best of White Sox baseball: He is a humble, respectful, hard-working, down-to-earth guy. He plays the game with class. He has a sense of humor. He loves what he does. He loves his wife and kids. He is the type of pro athlete that I truly respect, not some spoiled, mentally-retarded playboy. There's a terrific article about him and his family on ESPN.com (click here). His brother's quote says it all: "He's always told me and his buddies in the past, 'If money ever starts to get to me and I forget where I come from or who I am, slap me around a little bit,' But we've never had to do that."
- Dewayne Wise. De-Wayne is De-man. Ultimate redemption for this guy. How frustrated have Sox fans been with this guy? That must feel so good to come in the game cold turkey and pull off a mostly athletic, partly circus, and 100% clutch catch like that. Also: How'd you like to be that fan in the first row in the bleachers your hands timidly outstretched as Wise makes that catch? Most will tell you that is one of the best catches in baseball history. It will be replayed over and over and over. And there you will be: reaching out and flinching like a goof when he hits the wall, over and over and over.
- Boxscore - Rays: 0-0-0 (beautiful goose eggs), White Sox: 5-6-0. (Buehrle's jersey is #56)
- Home plate umpire Eric Cooper is also #56. Eric Cooper also umpired Buehrle's last no-hitter.
- Buehrle's last no-hitter lasted 2hr 3min. Today's perfect game lasted 2hr 3min.
- Dewayne Wise makes an epic clutch play to preserve a perfect game. Ex-Sox player Juan Uribe blows a routine grounder in mid-8th inning to blow a perfect game less than a month ago.
Hmm, this is technically a sports blog, right? So I guess now I have to finish the article with a short sentence in a new paragraph that will cause you to pause and think deeply about the profundity of what you have just read.
This is that sentence.
