With a combined 1,512 games started, Roger Clemens, Pedro Martinez, and Curt Shilling have never thrown a no-hitter. Those are three of the best pitchers ever to don a Red Sox uniform, and while they all have many accolades on their resume, a no-hitter isn’t there. To accomplish such a feat you need to reach beyond your abilities (even if those abilities are excellent) and have a lot of luck on your side.
Clay Buchholz threw a no-hitter in just his second major league start.
It’s an amazing feat (there have been only 2 others in baseball this year) that is magnified 1,000 times because Buchholz is only 23, this is September, and The Red Sox are in a pennant race. Every game is crucial now, and before today The Sox had lost 4 in a row. We needed a win, and the kid delivered in grand fashion.
I’d never seen a no-hitter. Not even on TV. This year I watched as Curt Shilling got his shot at glory broken up with 2 outs in the 9th. In 2002 I missed Derek Lowe’s gem at Fenway (I was at work). In 2001 I was at Barney’s Beanery in LA when Hideo Nomo threw his no-hitter. When I first arrived at the bar they tried to get it on one of the TVs, but for some reason their satellite couldn’t pick up the signal. And what was the big deal? They were facing Baltimore in April . . . so I decided to play air hockey for $20 a game instead. I remember watching the ESPN reports afterwards, being happy that it happened but disappointed that I’d missed it (especially since I’d either listened on internet radio or watched in a bar 95% of Red Sox games).
Before today those two no-hitters were the only ones thrown by a Boston pitcher in my lifetime. The last one before Nomo and Lowe happened in 1965, long before I was born (by Dave Morehead). In the 1967 Impossible Dream season (still years before I was an embryo) a rookie named Billy Rohr came within one out of no-hitting the Yankees.
In 42 years of baseball, Boston Red Sox pitchers had thrown only three no-hitters.
Tonight you can make it four.
I had the game on the computer (the WRKO feed from MLB.com) as usual, and since this was a long weekend I was treating myself to a few beers on my back porch while Joe Castiglione told me what was happening at Fenway. Out at the creek I also had a book (On The Road- reading it again for the 50th anniversary of the publication, but more on that in another blog) four leftover buffalo wings from Jersey Joe’s, and a fly swatter to combat the bug situation. By the 5th inning the wings were gone, I was tired of reading, the flies had regrouped with a vengeance, and I needed another beer.
I looked at the box score. Buchholz hadn’t let up a hit. Many pitchers have gone five lousy innings without giving up a hit. But I had a premonition, something sparked inside my brain that said I should go to Sneakers Bar & Grille (my local bar that has a satellite dish). Maybe the wings were bad and sent strange notions into my head. Maybe I just needed some tap beer. But I decided to make the (6 minute) trip to the bar.
When I first arrived I thought I’d have to turn right around and go home. Every TV (probably 20 of them at Sneakers) were either on The SF Giants game or The CAL football game. After much begging they agreed to spare one monitor and I had a chance to witness history. By the time they found the right channel it was the top of the 7th.
And what a great inning that was, topped off with Dustin Pedroia’s amazing play up the middle to rob Tejada of a hit. I still don’t know how the ball ended up in his glove and how he could have extracted it so fast to throw the runner out at first. Insane to think Pedroia is only a rookie, as he’s been one of the most consistent everyday players for The Red Sox all year.
So we went to the eighth. I was joined at the seat next to me by a guy who had grown up in New Hampshire. I filled him in what was going on- but never once using the words “no hitter”. I just said “something special is happening now.” He understood completely, and we watched intently as Moore flied out to center, House struck out swinging, and former Sox Jay Payton sent a stinger up the middle . . . which was snatched out of the air by Buchholz and flipped over to Youkilis at first.
I took a long swig from my Guinness and wiped a bead of sweat from my brow.
9th inning . . . three more outs to immortality.
Now I’m completely aware that a pitcher throwing a no-hitter isn’t the greatest thing to happen in baseball. Any playoff victory is better, and winning a World Series game means so much more. But this is September. The Red Sox were slumping with the Yankees only 5 games behind. A rookie throwing a no-hitter would not only be damn cool . . . it has the possibility of erasing any bad mojo and providing the spark that would carry The Old Towne Team into the post season.
But this wouldn’t be easy. Although Baltimore is a mediocre team, they have some outstanding hitters. Buchholz would have to face Brian Roberts (a veteran hitting .302), Corey Patterson (a scrappy .270), and Nick Markakis (3 hits the night before and who has 16 homeruns and was batting .293).
Buchholz struck out Roberts swinging.
Patterson flied harmlessly to center.
Markakis got down one ball and two strikes. I turned to my new friend and asked what would Varitek call? The rookie had dazzled all night long with off speed stuff, but man . . . you would hate to lose a no-hitter on a weak-reach-the-bat-out-swing on a nasty change-up. We both figured fast ball. A high heater up around the batter’s eyes.
It was a perfect curve-ball, and Markakis stood their with the bat on his shoulders wondering how a rookie making his 2nd start just made him look silly. Called third strike. Clay Buchholz had a no-hitter.
There was no volume at the bar, but on the screen you could see how the fans at Fenway were standing and cheering every single pitch. Craziness in every part of the ballpark. And when that strike three was called and Jason Varitek ran out and hugged Buchholz there were shivers electrifying my body. The rookie was being mobbed by all of his teammates, and I was high-fiving my new friend and clapping and completely digging my first experience of seeing a no-hitter unfold before my eyes.
Clay Buchholz threw a no-hitter in just his second major league start.
It’s an amazing feat (there have been only 2 others in baseball this year) that is magnified 1,000 times because Buchholz is only 23, this is September, and The Red Sox are in a pennant race. Every game is crucial now, and before today The Sox had lost 4 in a row. We needed a win, and the kid delivered in grand fashion.
I’d never seen a no-hitter. Not even on TV. This year I watched as Curt Shilling got his shot at glory broken up with 2 outs in the 9th. In 2002 I missed Derek Lowe’s gem at Fenway (I was at work). In 2001 I was at Barney’s Beanery in LA when Hideo Nomo threw his no-hitter. When I first arrived at the bar they tried to get it on one of the TVs, but for some reason their satellite couldn’t pick up the signal. And what was the big deal? They were facing Baltimore in April . . . so I decided to play air hockey for $20 a game instead. I remember watching the ESPN reports afterwards, being happy that it happened but disappointed that I’d missed it (especially since I’d either listened on internet radio or watched in a bar 95% of Red Sox games).
Before today those two no-hitters were the only ones thrown by a Boston pitcher in my lifetime. The last one before Nomo and Lowe happened in 1965, long before I was born (by Dave Morehead). In the 1967 Impossible Dream season (still years before I was an embryo) a rookie named Billy Rohr came within one out of no-hitting the Yankees.
In 42 years of baseball, Boston Red Sox pitchers had thrown only three no-hitters.
Tonight you can make it four.
I had the game on the computer (the WRKO feed from MLB.com) as usual, and since this was a long weekend I was treating myself to a few beers on my back porch while Joe Castiglione told me what was happening at Fenway. Out at the creek I also had a book (On The Road- reading it again for the 50th anniversary of the publication, but more on that in another blog) four leftover buffalo wings from Jersey Joe’s, and a fly swatter to combat the bug situation. By the 5th inning the wings were gone, I was tired of reading, the flies had regrouped with a vengeance, and I needed another beer.
I looked at the box score. Buchholz hadn’t let up a hit. Many pitchers have gone five lousy innings without giving up a hit. But I had a premonition, something sparked inside my brain that said I should go to Sneakers Bar & Grille (my local bar that has a satellite dish). Maybe the wings were bad and sent strange notions into my head. Maybe I just needed some tap beer. But I decided to make the (6 minute) trip to the bar.
When I first arrived I thought I’d have to turn right around and go home. Every TV (probably 20 of them at Sneakers) were either on The SF Giants game or The CAL football game. After much begging they agreed to spare one monitor and I had a chance to witness history. By the time they found the right channel it was the top of the 7th.
And what a great inning that was, topped off with Dustin Pedroia’s amazing play up the middle to rob Tejada of a hit. I still don’t know how the ball ended up in his glove and how he could have extracted it so fast to throw the runner out at first. Insane to think Pedroia is only a rookie, as he’s been one of the most consistent everyday players for The Red Sox all year.
So we went to the eighth. I was joined at the seat next to me by a guy who had grown up in New Hampshire. I filled him in what was going on- but never once using the words “no hitter”. I just said “something special is happening now.” He understood completely, and we watched intently as Moore flied out to center, House struck out swinging, and former Sox Jay Payton sent a stinger up the middle . . . which was snatched out of the air by Buchholz and flipped over to Youkilis at first.
I took a long swig from my Guinness and wiped a bead of sweat from my brow.
9th inning . . . three more outs to immortality.
Now I’m completely aware that a pitcher throwing a no-hitter isn’t the greatest thing to happen in baseball. Any playoff victory is better, and winning a World Series game means so much more. But this is September. The Red Sox were slumping with the Yankees only 5 games behind. A rookie throwing a no-hitter would not only be damn cool . . . it has the possibility of erasing any bad mojo and providing the spark that would carry The Old Towne Team into the post season.
But this wouldn’t be easy. Although Baltimore is a mediocre team, they have some outstanding hitters. Buchholz would have to face Brian Roberts (a veteran hitting .302), Corey Patterson (a scrappy .270), and Nick Markakis (3 hits the night before and who has 16 homeruns and was batting .293).
Buchholz struck out Roberts swinging.
Patterson flied harmlessly to center.
Markakis got down one ball and two strikes. I turned to my new friend and asked what would Varitek call? The rookie had dazzled all night long with off speed stuff, but man . . . you would hate to lose a no-hitter on a weak-reach-the-bat-out-swing on a nasty change-up. We both figured fast ball. A high heater up around the batter’s eyes.
It was a perfect curve-ball, and Markakis stood their with the bat on his shoulders wondering how a rookie making his 2nd start just made him look silly. Called third strike. Clay Buchholz had a no-hitter.
There was no volume at the bar, but on the screen you could see how the fans at Fenway were standing and cheering every single pitch. Craziness in every part of the ballpark. And when that strike three was called and Jason Varitek ran out and hugged Buchholz there were shivers electrifying my body. The rookie was being mobbed by all of his teammates, and I was high-fiving my new friend and clapping and completely digging my first experience of seeing a no-hitter unfold before my eyes.
1 comment:
I usually roll my eyes and scroll through your sports posts, but I liked this one. I love glory stories... especially in film... Rudy, Miracle, The Mighty Ducks (that's right).
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