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Last week my girlfriend asked why my face had darkened after checking something on my phone. I told her the damned Sox had lost again (can't remember what day it was, but there are so many to choose from.) She suggested that perhaps I was making them lose by paying so much attention to the games, so I skipped last Monday's finale against the Orioles altogether and, what do you know, they came through with their weekly win.
I didn't tune in 'til the sixth or seventh on Tuesday but kept listening to the end. So you can blame me for the team getting no-hit by the guy with persistent arm problems and a 9.13 ERA. My pal Nick DiGilio, a lifelong Cubs fan, texted to rub it in. Then, after getting no response, followed with this:
"You have to admit it couldn't have been more dramatic."
I disagreed. It would've been more dramatic if Dunn had hit a walk-off two-run homer, like we paid him to do.
Jake Austen wrote to tell me, "I was at the game last night and it was the least interesting no-hitter in history (it was the 3rd I've seen in person). Certainly more an achievement of the Sox' apparent quest for utter futility rather than a testament to any skill on the pitcher's part."
From the three innings I suffered through, sitting in my cab at the O'Hare Taxi Staging Area, I couldn't disagree.
Jake added, "I don't think you quite captured the 11-year old cancer patient whose Make-A-Wish was to get to meet the White Sox and wear a uniform vibe that Lillibridge rocks so well, he looks almost grown up in your painting."
So, perhaps I'm more hopeful about the team than he is. What's always drawn me to baseball most is pitching and over the last week there hasn't been too much to complain about in that department. Matt Thornton even pitched an inning without allowing a run! (It may have been his first this season.)
Gavin Floyd pitched eight innings of three-hit ball on Saturday. Sunday it was tied 2-2 going into the ninth when I turned off the radio and got out of the cab to have Cuban food with my girlfriend. I resisted checking the score 'til the entrees were on the table. They won it 5-2 in the 10th, so I could eat my bistec in peace.
Gavin Floyd by Dmitry Samarov (Enlarge)
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