GAME 37 Cincinnati (23-14) vs. Philadelphia – Loss 2-0 “Jon Lieber: Nearly Perfect”
(Sorry Jon, if it wasn't for me, you would have held a similar press conference for pitching a perfect-game)
This hasn’t been the best of weeks for me. Rain has gotten in the way of a couple visits to Great American Ball Park, and I, in a weak moment, turned off Thursday night’s game against the Washington Nationals in a moment of disgust, before the improbable Reds’ comeback in the bottom of the eleventh.
On Saturday night, my best friend Rob and his girl were going to go to the game against the surging Philadelphia Phillies. They already had tickets in the front of section 102 in left/center. With the Reds drawing about the same number of people as a Women’s Bowling Green collegiate basketball game (that joke is for Suss), I thought I would meet them down there and have absolutely no trouble sitting by them.
It spit rain the entire day, and the Doppler radar did not look promising. Up until the very last minute, I contemplated backing out. I don’t know what it was, but something was holding me back.
I finally decided to hedge my bets and head down to the Queen City. It continued to rain the entire way there. I pulled into the city and turned to park in my usual spot on the street a couple of blocks from the stadium but all the spots were taken. It’s engrained in me as a Sandwasher to avoid paying for parking at all costs. Something is in my chemical makeup to avoid paying to park. I furiously drove around the city for the next twenty minutes like Michael Douglas in Falling Down. I finally had to bite the bullet and pay to park. Somebody was going to pay!
The lack of parking did not clue me on the next few negative chain of events.
Still oblivious, as I ran to the stadium, I could not help but notice a remarkable (for the Reds) number of people walking up to the stadium as the game was about to begin. I assumed it was due to the rain and the newly implemented Saturday 6:10 starts.
I scurried to the ticket window, and as usual, asked for the cheapest ticket ($5). Like I’ve mentioned before, with the lack of fan support, virtually every seat in the stadium is fair game, so it would be unwise to spend top-dollar on a ticket. I learned that the Reds had sold out both the $5 dollar seats and the bleacher seats ($9). I was stupefied. I ended up paying $12 to get into the game and I had to pay $5 for parking. Typically, I can get in and out of the city minus $5. Today, I had already exceeded that figure by $12 and I had not gotten anything cool out of it.
As I entered the stadium and went through a quick strip search and anal cavity, I realized the true reason for of all the fans, err, patrons. It was not due to the first place Reds or the red-hot Phils. Most of the 32,000 in attendance showed up for, drum roll please, “Adam Dunn Figurine Night!”
I will totally take the blame for this one. If there is one thing that will bring people out to a Reds game, it is a cheap $2 toy made by little Vietnamese children with carpal tunnel syndrome. I avoid these nights like the plague because it brings out droves of yahoos trying to obtain a collectable that is no longer a hot commodity, but, I failed to check the Reds’ calendar for special events. I deserved my wretched fate in purgatory. I had no one to blame but myself.
I made it to section 102 just prior to the first pitch. The section was jammed packed. I watched the Reds’ Dave Williams work a near-flawless half-inning before calling Rob. I let him know that I was there and to give me a call if a seat opened up. I made my way into my very own row on the left field side, which was a very nice seat (personally, I think mine was better than Rob’s).
Phillies’ pitcher Jon Lieber was perfect through the first two innings. Williams had similar magic too as he began mowing through the Phillies’ lineup. Both pitchers were working like me in bed, quickly. That’s the way I like it, and I wish every game was like this. Three innings had been played in 40 minutes!
After Lieber sent the first nine Reds back to the dugout, I started to let myself believe. It has been my dream to see a no-hitter since I was a little kid. When I was eight-years-old, in August of 1987, I saw Cleveland Indians’ knuckleball pitcher Tom Candiotti throw seven no-hit innings against the New York Yankees. Candiotti finished with this beautiful line on the night: 9IP, 1HA, 5 SO, and 1 BB. After that awe-inspiring performance, I have been on a quest for a no-hitter like Ponce de León and the Fountain of Youth.
Lieber cruised right along until the bottom of the fifth inning. Phillies’ shortstop Jimmy Rollins made an impressive one-handed grab and throw to beat Austin Kearns by a step. My heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest. To throw a no-hitter, a little bit of luck and good fortune is needed. The Rollins play made me feel like all the stars were aligned on this night.
Williams was up for the challenge on this night. Like Lieber, he continued to breeze through the game.
Rob called in the middle of the sixth to let me know that a seat had opened up in the row behind them. I told him that I would move after the home sixth. I wanted to see if Lieber was able to get by the sixth before leaving. I didn’t know what to do.
In the bottom of the sixth, Rollins was at it again. He beat the speedy Brandon Phillips by a step. Jason LaRue and Williams followed in order to end the inning.
The doofus behind finally realized that Lieber was throwing a no-hitter. As pathetic as I am, I had been counting since the first out.
I tried to call Rob to let him know that I didn’t feel comfortable changing seats. I didn’t want to jinx anything. Unfortunately, Rob was unable to hear me over the Village People’s YMCA (teams just don’t play that song often enough, do they?). Unable to get my message through to Rob and even though I’m superstitious, I thought to myself, screw it; Jon Lieber is not going to be affected by me changing seats (I believe in stupid superstitious rituals. I stood up for the entire second half and both overtimes of the 2002 NCAA Football Championship Game, too nervous and afraid to sit down). For some reason, I went against the better judgment of my neurotic instincts and moved.
I stood behind Rob’s section as I watched the top of the seventh. Williams looked like he was going to cruise through the inning until Quinton McCracken dropped a routine Ryan Howard fly ball. That would have ended the inning. Third baseman David Bell was up next and proved that giving away outs will always come back and haunt you, Bell hit a RBI double to give the Phils a 1-0 lead. My hopes were coming true. Now I just needed Lieber to retire nine more batters. Not only was a no-hitter was just at stake now, but Lieber was on line for a Perfect Game!
In the bottom of the seventh, I quickly made my way to my new seat and readied myself for Lieber’s final push. Lieber sent down McCracken and Felipe “Flip” Lopez in four pitches. This was beautiful. With the slumping Adam Dunn up, I was already counting him as an out. I shouldn’t have. Even with the infield shift, Dunn was able to single up the middle. Dunn had about three feet to work with and the ball somehow, someway found the outfield, just past the outstretched Rollins’. That was Dunn’s first single in the month of May and only his 12th of the year.
I was pissed at myself. How could I abandon my lucky seat? That’s probably my only shot I’ll ever have again to see a no-hitter. Why would the Baseball Gods give me the privileged of witnessing such a miraculous event after I haphazardly left my seat during a possible historic event?
I stewed in the light drizzle for the rest of the game. The Reds did mount a mini-rally in the top of the ninth, but were unable to score. Ken Griffey Jr. did hit a single off of Lieber with two outs. That did not make me feel better though. If I had not changed seats, Dunn does not reach base, and Junior probably would not have had the opportunity to pinch it.
Phils' manager Charlie Manuel took out Lieber in favor of Tom “Flash” Gordon. Flip got the Reds third hit of the day, sending the degenerative legs of Junior scurrying from first to third. That brought Mr. Dunn to the plate, Mr. Figurine, Mr. No-hitter-breaker-upper. I momentarily allowed myself to hope for a déjà vu of Wily Mo Pena bobblehead night, where Pena hit two homers, including the game winner. The fans, on their feet since Junior’s at-bat, were louder than ever. Dunn was able to work a full-count before striking out. He swung for the fences each time. Dejected fans in the outfield threw Dunn’s figurine onto the field. With the early start and the speedy pace (2h16m), at least we had the rest of our night left.
Williams’ brilliant performance was wasted. He pitched eight and a third innings of one run, five hit baseball.
Although I hope Jon Lieber forgives me for ruining his perfect game, I don’t think I’ll ever have the strength to forgive myself.
-M.D. Sandwasher
As always, comments, rants, or questions can be sent to sandwasher@yahoo.com.
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