Laura & I switched over to the Detroit/Cleveland game because watching a perfect game from a team you could care less about beats watching your team blow another lead anyday, and just in time for the bottom of the ninth. I got sick to my stomach when that bad call was made. Laura got pissed. I mean seriously angered. I think she made some vague threat towards Jim Joyce's mother. And obviously today at work, it was the hot topic around the water cooler. People had their opinions. Terms like "human element" and "redemption" were tossed about carelessly and I stayed out of it, for the most part. The overall feeling around the world today is that MLB should award Armando Galarraga with a perfect game, but am I the only one missing the point? I think that one of the most important things, maybe the only important thing to someone pitching one of these perfect games, only 20 in baseball history, is the moment it happens in and not the fact that it gets written down in some book on some shelf. Everyone loves to see the celebration, even when it's not your team celebrating, we all love to see the bumrush of the pitchers mound, the arms tossed skyward, the mouths open in elation and the boylike excitement that happens with these things. And if you took that away, at that moment, there is nothing you can do to ever get it back, ever. So what would be the point? I felt for the guy, but if he didn't get the chance to jump into Miguel Cabrera's arms at that very moment, then he's not gonna do it when and if the call is ever overturned. That would be weird. Oh, and peace out Griffey.
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