Dear
YOU,
It is of the oddest of coincidences that just the other day, I received a letter in the mail from an old friend. It was strange not only because I hadn't spoken with this person for many months, but because that so closely coincided with the time where I was just becoming re-acquainted with the
Pale Hose, yet another old friend of mine. It is stranger still that old foe
Texas is the first club to come to
Chicago after the long hiatus, the hated
Rangers being the club that hammered us down twenty-four runs to one in an infamous loss last year as well in addition to beating us eight of the other nine times we faced them, often by just a single run.
It should logically follow, then, that this ballclub's reactions to this first game this season against the
Rangers should be similar to this poster's reactions to that letter in the mail, and indeed that is exactly what happens. For me, there was an initial bit of reset as I read the first few words of the letter and realized, "Hey, I remember this person..." For the
Pale Hose, it's watching
Mike Nannini getting a rude greeting from our hated opponents when 27 year old leadoff man
Ramon Nivar slashes a line drive down the right field line and into the corner for an easy two-bagger. My eyes drift down the page, still trying to become familiar with the words and the sentences and the structure, but my mind is three steps ahead, processing and understanding. This letter is meant for me, these words have been strung together expressly with me in mind, and that pop-up to right field, the third out in quick succession to leave
Ramon Nivar at second base? Maybe it's
Mike Nannini's own little mark, his way of striking back against history and against
Texas. Or maybe he's just doing his job.
One, two, and three, our side goes down in quick order in the bottom of the first, just like old times, same as reading "Craig, you make me laugh so much," once again.
Note: I may or may not have ever actually been told that. You decide as you like. With each turn of phrase, I find myself trying to make sense of seemingly conflicting meanings. And I don't know if playing out the games is like this for you, but for me every batter is a small mountain to ascend, ascend, ascend...and then slowly climb down. Breathe in, breathe in, and...ahhhh, SS
Mike Young bounced to his boy, my boy,
Vazquez. OK, OK, let's go, and...awww, m.f.,
Mark Teixeira just jacked one to right. Goodbye, tie game. But righties give him more trouble than lefties! How the hell did that happen? Now
we'll need one just to tie up. Ah, it's OK, it's only a run. Could be worse.
Maybe I'm nuts, but every batter's like that for me. Punch, counterpunch. Up, down, good, bad, smile, frown.
Frank Catalanotto singles to start the bottom of the second, and we're back in business. Streaky third baseman
Eric Munson makes serious contact with a fat
Jeff D'Amico fastball, and it's going, going, going...
You see those three dots in the play-by-play of OOTP6, you know what's going to happen, but in this case, it's all good. It's just a letter, it's just three dots, it's just a two-one lead in the second, but what the hell, appreciate the little things.
And realize that, nice as the little things can be, they are what they are, nothing more.
Mike Nannini may get through the third with the lead, but
Maggs Ordonez sure ain't going to add to that lead in the bottom half no matter how many runners are in front of him, and it's not staying 2-1 all game. The sweet-swinging
Michael Young drives that lesson home when he drives one to the far reaches of U.S. Cell's left-center field bleachers to start the fourth, and suddenly we're tied. Then a walk to powerful first baseman
Teixeira, and...that's how it all gets started. A little base on balls, a day or a week without talking to someone, and then you are writing these impersonal "catching up" letters five months later, then you are chasing a ball around the infield, futilely trying to nail out
Ricky Ledee on the bases while the lead run is crossing the plate. The lead is gone, all sense of command of the situation is gone, but we're going to give it a try anyway. Here, I will write you a letter telling you everything about my life that you missed, everything I have learned in the past months. It goes a little like this:
Quote:
|
Hi! Thanks for the letter. Missed talking to you. I have been in some different places and done some things, talked to some people. Forgot how to do something easy a few times. Had some lousy **** happen, too. Sorry you weren't there to be miserable with me. Doing OK right about now. Later I am going to go to sleep. OK, bye!
|
Or at least in my mind, that is how it should go.
26 year old
Mike Nannini has been everywhere, man, from the depths of minor league systems in
Houston and
Montreal to an
awesome debut against
Oakland about a month ago and some ups and downs in between. He's been everywhere, but around the fifth inning today he kind of forgot some things, like locating the fastball, and after
Andrew Wishy makes him pay with a one-out double off the right-center field wall, number three hitter
Hank Blalock draws a free pass. Two batters later, the lousy **** happens when
Mike Young wallops a fat one way, way up and out over the left-center field wall, even further than his first dong. Ding, dong, dung. Damn. Sometimes it makes you miserable, and sometimes you wish that it would end or someone would show up, but no one does and every attempt on our behalf to come up with the perfect response comes up short. We get some runners on, but somehow they get taken off, pegged out trying to get the extra base or doubled off after athletic plays by lithe defenders in their prime or something. Eventually we just give up, take our lumps and the L and just head back home to go to sleep and hope that
Mark Buehrle (6-4, 3.10) will have a better go of it tomorrow.
TEX 9 CHW 2
WP: J. D'Amico (6-4) - CG, 6 H, 2 R, 0 BB, 11 K
LP: M. Nannini (3-2) - 5 IP, 8 H, 6 R, 3 BB, 2 K (this is the fifth starter quality of start we expected from
Rauch or
DePaula but had not seen from
man, I hope it is not a preview of things to come)
You remember what this is like, right?
Sincerely,
the
Pale Hose