Chester and I go to our first White Sox game of the season on out 20-ticket game package, and what a game to kick off the season. Continuing from my journal entry for that day:
"The Sox bats were cold as Milt Wilcox put them down in order through the first six innings. In the meantime the Togers, especially Lance Parrish and Chet Lemon, were hitting the ball exactly where Sox players weren't. Greg Walker forgot how many outs there were and threw the ball to the ump who jumped away from it. Forttunately the runner on third didn't discover the situation until it was too late to score.
Wilcox continued his perfect game through the 7th and 8th and the stands started cheering him. I will pull for any pitcher, except a Yankee, to throw a no-hitter, even against one of the teams I back. A standing ovation was in order as he came to the mound in the 9th.
He got the first two batters out, one away from a perfect game. We were about to see only the 13th perfect game since the beginning of the majors. But, alas, it was not to be.
LaRussa sent up the AL's best pinch hitter, Jerry Hairston, and he singled sharply through the center, the first and only Sox baserunner of the game. To say the least, he was roundly booed and all sorts of expletives were mentioned in the stands. Wilcox couldn't have had more support had he been in Tiger Stadium.
The next batter grounded out so we had to settle for a one-hitter. I know that the next time Hairston comes up in a game the Sox have a chance to win he will pop up, foul out or strike out, but no, he couldn't do that tonight.
Had two more beers at Bridgeport Pub and drove home."
That Sure Would Have Been Something. --RoadDog
Being an account of some things I'm interested in, what I'm doing, and reflections on my past, especially music.
Listen to this man. Seven years of college, you know. Trying to reason with 2020 and, now, 2022.
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