King Felix pitches a perfect game. At Safeco. On a glorious afternoon for baseball. Sad to say, I missed it at work, and didn’t know until after.*
I know it’s a meaningless thing. A W is a W, and how you get there won’t change the standings. And the Mariners’ season is still shot. But there is something magical. Especially with Felix. He’s home grown. I have a friend who went to Tacoma specifically to see him pitch a year before he broke into the majors. And since he’s been up, it always felt like it was just a matter of time before at least a no-no; he has been that good.
* For serious, someone text me or someone I work with if this is going on. Like in the 7th.
That’s the thing about sports. It doesn’t mean anything. That’s what makes it so good.
“I have a friend who went to Tacoma specifically to see him pitch a year before he broke into the majors.”
I went to Tacoma years ago to see Luis Tiant play AAA ball before he broke into the majors. He had a 15 – 1 won-loss record at the time. Felix is the better pitcher and likely a future member of the HOF.
Getting ready to watch the replay of Felix’s perfect game on “Root” Sports NW, I watched a good part of the Portland/Toronto match. Right near the end, one of Toronto’s more brilliant fans trained a laser at the head of the Portland goalie. IMO, Toronto should be forced to forfeit the game (it ended in a draw.) Some kind of statement has to be made about this stupid, despicable, dangerous act. Sure, it wasn’t the Toronto club’s fault, but something has to be done.
At a friend’s urging, I blew off work this afternoon to go watch Felix pitch. Please be assured that I have no regrets for having done so. I cannot believe I got to see a perfect f-ing game! A perfect game! I know I will never again see such a commanding game by a pitcher. Oh, and, by the way, the weather cooperated, too. I love baseball.
As with PL, I was there – a friend had tickets right behind home plate at close to field level. Between the game, the seats, and the weather, I can’t imagine I will ever attend a more ideal game. On an ordinary weekday, in the middle of August, featuring a last place team. Baseball is really the only major sport capable of those sorts of unexpected bursts of perfection.
And Felix was completely unhittable. Don’t believe the “spectacular defensive plays that saved his game” stuff – there were a couple above average defensive plays, but nothing any major leaguer shouldn’t make. Nobody for Tampa Bay even came close to getting a hit, and only three even got to three balls in the count. I’ll never see a pitching performance like that again, ever.
Pete,
Exactly. The Rays’ hitters looked utterly baffled all day long, even from my centerfield bleacher seat (where, by the way, I can distinguish balls from strikes better than can the umpire, at least so long as I have my glasses on). And, as is the usual course at Safeco, a 1 run lead was all the Ms could provide their pitcher. Felix was perfect in every regard today. When does anyone get to see perfection anywhere, in any regard? I got to see that today. I’m feeling pretty lucky about that.
I was two sections over from King’s Court for this one. It was a company event with a lot of folks who knew next to nothing about baseball. Just total insanity.
Carl, next time I’ll text you.
Lee,
How frustrating was it to witness a perfect game with people who are not baseball fans? I cannot imagine.
@8
It was surreal. Several of us spent part of the game just explaining the basic rules of balls and strikes to some of our foreign-born employees. And then to witness that. Wow.
@7,8,9:
I saw a no-hitter about 13 years ago. Not a perfecto — Jimenez walked two hitters (both erased on double plays) and hit another — but mighty impressive nonetheless. And also a 1-0 game, though this one was scoreless until the top of the 9th.
There was some surrealism about that one too. The game was in Arizona, in the franchise’s second year of existence. The local fans were somewhat less than astute students of the game. So they were paying attention solely to what the scoreboard and team advertising told them about … the countdown to Randy Johnson’s 2500th career strikeout. That came in the top of the 9th, just before the Cardinals scored the game’s only run.
Although the vast majority of the crowd had no idea whatsoever of the real drama before them, a group were very much aware that the other pitcher was doing something much more impressive than reaching an arbitrary number. You see, the reason I was there was the annual convention of the Society for American Baseball Research. Even with all the ballgames we had under our collective belts, most of us had never seen a no-hitter.
I’m still not sure the Phoenicians knew what they’d seen that night.