Perfection
The other interesting thing that happened last night was Randy Johnson's perfect game. For those of you who aren't baseball enthusiasts, a perfect game is just about the most rare thing in sports. To throw a perfect game, you can't allow any hits. You can't walk any batters. You can't hit a batter with a pitch. Your teammates can't make any errors in the field that would allow a runner to reach base. Basically, it's the most dominant performance that one single athlete can achieve in a team sport.
Until last night, there had only been 16 perfect games in major league baseball history. Only 15 of them had come in baseball's "Modern Era" (Since 1901).
Last night, at Turner Field, Arizona pitcher Randy Johnson pitched the 17th perfect game. At the age of 40, no less.
When a pitcher is throwing a perfect game, or even a no-hitter, baseball fans go a little nutty. So do baseball players. His teammates will avoid him like the plague, afraid that they'll jinx him by saying something stupid and getting in his head. Baseball fans, on the other hand, start calling each other in about the 6th or 7th inning, saying "Hey, you gotta turn the Braves game! Randy Johnson is throwing a f**king perfect game!"
The funny part is that I just kind of assumed that Cory knew it was happening. He'd been watching the game with me on his dinner break, and he headed back to the station in about the third inning. Because all Cory does is watch baseball, I assumed that he was watching the game at work (one of the perks of working at a tv station... everyone has a television in their office).
We had planned to meet at the movie theater at 10 p.m. You can't miss the final out of a no-hitter. You have to stay, staring at the television, watching the drama unfold, knowing that every single pitch could be the one that ends it. At 9:30, the game was in the 8th inning, so I knew I'd have enough time to watch the end of the game, then haul ass to the theater. When the phone rang at 9:40, I figured that Cory was calling to say that he wasn't planning to leave the station until the game was over. It was Cory... and he immediately started talking about the sitcom he'd been watching. When he finished, I said...
"Um, you know Randy Johnson's three outs away from a perfect game."
He didn't know.
Needless to say, the phone conversation was brief. He had to get off the phone and watch the last inning. Actually, being a much better baseball fan than I am, he had to tell everyone at the station that Randy Johnson was in the 9th inning of a perfect game, and a small crowd gathered to watch the bottom of the 9th with him.
By the way, we were five minutes late for the movie. Hmm... 17 perfect games in baseball history? I guess I can be five minutes late.
The other interesting thing that happened last night was Randy Johnson's perfect game. For those of you who aren't baseball enthusiasts, a perfect game is just about the most rare thing in sports. To throw a perfect game, you can't allow any hits. You can't walk any batters. You can't hit a batter with a pitch. Your teammates can't make any errors in the field that would allow a runner to reach base. Basically, it's the most dominant performance that one single athlete can achieve in a team sport.
Until last night, there had only been 16 perfect games in major league baseball history. Only 15 of them had come in baseball's "Modern Era" (Since 1901).
Last night, at Turner Field, Arizona pitcher Randy Johnson pitched the 17th perfect game. At the age of 40, no less.
When a pitcher is throwing a perfect game, or even a no-hitter, baseball fans go a little nutty. So do baseball players. His teammates will avoid him like the plague, afraid that they'll jinx him by saying something stupid and getting in his head. Baseball fans, on the other hand, start calling each other in about the 6th or 7th inning, saying "Hey, you gotta turn the Braves game! Randy Johnson is throwing a f**king perfect game!"
The funny part is that I just kind of assumed that Cory knew it was happening. He'd been watching the game with me on his dinner break, and he headed back to the station in about the third inning. Because all Cory does is watch baseball, I assumed that he was watching the game at work (one of the perks of working at a tv station... everyone has a television in their office).
We had planned to meet at the movie theater at 10 p.m. You can't miss the final out of a no-hitter. You have to stay, staring at the television, watching the drama unfold, knowing that every single pitch could be the one that ends it. At 9:30, the game was in the 8th inning, so I knew I'd have enough time to watch the end of the game, then haul ass to the theater. When the phone rang at 9:40, I figured that Cory was calling to say that he wasn't planning to leave the station until the game was over. It was Cory... and he immediately started talking about the sitcom he'd been watching. When he finished, I said...
"Um, you know Randy Johnson's three outs away from a perfect game."
He didn't know.
Needless to say, the phone conversation was brief. He had to get off the phone and watch the last inning. Actually, being a much better baseball fan than I am, he had to tell everyone at the station that Randy Johnson was in the 9th inning of a perfect game, and a small crowd gathered to watch the bottom of the 9th with him.
By the way, we were five minutes late for the movie. Hmm... 17 perfect games in baseball history? I guess I can be five minutes late.
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