[cknox0723]

Originally Posted by Jestor

Who cares if it comes back to bite you in the ass in arbitration? Sacks of Crap can be found everywhere, usually flaming on doorsteps. If Gallo gets a big ass raise, just trade him for another SOC reliever

You assume, of course, that anyone would actually want this sack. Since teams trade for flotsam like Todd Jones, probably a good assertion, but considering that Mike Gallo's about as talented as Todd Jones throwing lefty, maybe not.

However, I'll check my doorstep tomorrow and let you know what I find!

Control artist Chris Reitsma's had a nice three start Toronto debut, including seven innings and three runs allowed to some Chicago team some three weeks ago in his season debut. He'll oppose The Buehrle One in the rubber match, who, for fifty million dollars' sake, I hope is fully tested rested and ready after an extra day off.

But with a couple of sixty-win teams squaring off, is success really success? Reitsma and his assortment of slow changeups astound us in the first few frames, but, really, how big a deal is that? Miguel Olivo...Julio Lugo...Jeremy Reed...these aren't really baseball players. It's like giving a five-year old a lollipop and then nicking his lunch money. You don't exactly need to be a Dutch bank robber to do that.

And Buehrle mucks up scoreless frames right alongside Reitsma, falling behind hitters, putting runners on base, but retiring guys like Bobby Wilson (Today's entrant in the "Catcher o' the Day" contest in Toronto) and Jolbert Cabrera and Eric Hinske. Hoo-ray!

Finally, the monotony of a poorly-played, nothing-nothing affair is broken when Buehrle misses out over the plate with a two-seamer and one of the few actual ballplayers on the field, Vernon Wells swats a big fly, his twenty-second of the season. Buehrle has little trouble aside from that, not that he should, and we find ourselves in a 1-0 hole after four.

And five. And six. Don't blame D.Y., though -- after six innings, he's got both of our hits, and he helps Buehrle out in the termination of that sixth frame by making a beautiful shoestring grab to rob Vernon Wells. Then he steps up to lead off the seventh, takes a couple pitches, and tomahawks a high slider to the opposite field. The sphere clanks off the left field foul pole, and thanks to our one-man show, we're tied up.

No one else gets on base, but, hell, that's OK, D.Y. will do it all himself. He can't pitch, though, and after a rousing rendition of "Take Me Ooooot to the Ballgame", I'm about ready to make the same claim about The Buehrle One. Hits by Michael Restovich and Dave Berg put a pair on, and an Eric Hinske groundout puts the duo in scoring position with two outs for Vito Chiaravolloti, pinch-hitting for the pitcher. He's also the winner of the "Unnecessary Consonants" contest. Buehrle slithers a few strikes in, like an asp, but then coils around himself and leaves a hittable fastball over the plate. Chiaravowhat'shisface hits it on the nose...but right at Julio Lugo, and we live to see another inning of a tied ballgame.

That doesn't change in the eighth, as southpaw Eric Knott ties us up in his namesake, but Buehrle does likewise to the fearsome Toronto order. Knott and Joe Roa continue the offensive ignominy in the ninth, and we're on to everyone's favorite -- extra innings of a September game between last-place teams.

Originally Posted by seth70liz76

Flutters of excitement
cover my body

Amen to that.

Knott works a third perfect inning, holding our hit total to three (that's zero without The Mad Russian, if you're counting at home), but Joe Roa follows suit despite allowing a couple more hard-hit ground balls and the eleventh Toronto hit. Scot Shields is the next batting-practice arm to shut us down in order, but Kiko Calero carves up the heart of the Cerulean Kay order and we move on to frame number twelve.

You don't need Miss Cleo to know that we go down in order, defenestrated by Swords and Shields. Of course, Mike Gallo marches through the bottom half of the inning, and onward we go.

At this point, I'm considering going up there and taking my hacks, but Carlos Tosca goes to the lefty for the thirteenth. I never could hit the southpaw, so I let Maggs Ordonez, who's three for his last thirty-one, step in against Les Walrond and his 5.91 ERA. Of course, Buddha takes a weak hack at the first lousy pitch and pops it up to left-center.

And Laynce Nix loses it in the sun. Isn't that great? A baserunner! And there is no sun -- we're in a freaking dome! Ah ha ha! Yes!

Excitement aside, Bruce Chen comes on to face Frank Thomas, for reasons unknown. Consider this thought process: "OK, runner on...time to bring in Chen!" Does that even make sense in the Pacific Coast League? And even we're not that bad!

Of course, The Tailor of Panama retires Thomas on a pop-fly. Go figure.

But Raul Gonzalez follows with a lined shot past a diving Jeter Hinske, and we've got our first hit in...six innings! Holy cow!

And up marches Joe Crede. There's nothing that'll prick your gonfalon bubble like those three words..."up marches Crede". The assclown strikes out, of course, and we're an out away from the bottom of the thirteenth. Why couldn't we have just lost this game in the fricking ninth?

"Two balls, no strikes to Miguel Olivo. Chen peers in to Cambra, fiddles with the ball. To the set and here's the pitch...fastball, stroked right back up the middle, past Chen and into center for a base hit! Ordonez rounds third and he will score, and the Sox have a 2-1 lead!"

And thaaat's how we won it.



CHW 2 TOR 1 (13)

WP: M. Gallo (6-0)
LP: L. Walrond (4-6)
S: A. Otsuka (6)

Game Ball Goes To... Mr. Young, who might make like Hollywood and go to Washington, if only I got up the energy to move the Expos. By the way, that link came up when I typed "go to Washington" into the Internet Movie Database. How I love low-budget film concepts. Though for all of my kvetching, Buehrle went 8 and gave up but that one run. Extra credit to M. Olivo, though after all that ineptitude, if someone didn't poke a damn single, I would've rented Walters for a day.