I probably should have gotten back to work after the last post, since my lunch break was over. But I had the game on ESPN’s GameCast, and so I flipped over after I finished my sandwich.
When Corey Patterson homered to make it a 5-2 Seattle Mariners lead, I smiled. It was nice to see him contributing immediately, and it made the game look a little more respectable. When Adam Jones struck out but still got on due to a wild pitch, I realized that I was not going to be getting to work again for a few minutes.
After Nick Markakis’ single, I thought that there was an outside chance that this game could get interesting. After Miguel Tejada somehow beat out the potential double play, I thought that the baseball gods were having some fun with a game that was otherwise not going to garner a whole lot of national attention other than an update on the crawl at the bottom of the screen during SportsCenter.
I knew they were going to pitch around Ty Wigginton. Luke Scott was up next. Even Ray Miller would have known to pitch around Wigginton right now. And even though I knew it was an instant jinx that was guaranteed to anger the gods, I thought to myself that 6-5 would look really nice right about then.
And then it happened.
OPPOSITE FIELD for that matter.
I thought about starting another blog post right then and there, but decided to drop a quick comment on my current post. When Alfredo Simon came in and pulled a Don Stanhouse impression, I started to think that I HAD angered the gods and they were going to yank this one right back from us. But they didn’t, and I can only assume that Scott got the shaving cream towel in the face during the post game interview.
For all the Luke Scott bashing I have done these last few weeks, I really do like him as a person and a player. He is a stand up guy, and I have never heard of him making a scene on the field or in the clubhouse.
I would love for him to go on one of his tears where he hits everything within a rural zip code of the strike zone hard. I just didn’t see it happening any time soon. May I be wrong like that another 1000 times this month, and every month thereafter.
I still want Hank Blalock, though.
About the Author
Written by Ron Burr
Ron is a lifelong resident of Maryland and has been a passionate player and fan of sports for as long as he can remember. When he is not watching the games or explaining to his lovely wife why he is cursing at the television, he runs an improv/sketch comedy troupe, Drop Three. He can't hit a curveball or run a sub 4.5 40 yard dash, but he knows the games and loves talking about it with anyone. Differing opinions are welcome and encouraged!