“PRAC-tically a perfect game.” my roommate—a die-hard Yanks fan—kept announcing this past Friday night.
“It wasn’t!!!!!” I’d yell back.
“BAYYYY-sically a perfect game.”
“Stop saying that! We had two hits!”
I kept drinking that night, trying to make the pain go away. Yet, after the countless shots we’d had (that I insisted were to toast Varitek’s birthday), by midnight, the game was over, the Red Sox had lost, and I was wasted and making crazy “Who will get further this year?” bets with Yankees fans.
I can’t believe Wang’s the fourth pitcher since, like, 1802 to pitch a whole game at Fenway. Can’t believe I had to hear my roommate repeatedly tell me: ” ‘Chien Ming’ means ‘Perfect Game,’ Shaz. Get used to it.”
Thank God we won on Saturday despite the few crazy innings in which the Yanks tried—and failed—to come back. And the highlights during the rain delay that showed Gabe Kapler’s home run against the Mets made the two hours’ wait worth it. My friend’s text message to me after Kapler’s first highlight: “You all hot & sweaty now? They just showed Gabe Kapler…” My reply: “I’d hump his neighbor’s dog just to get closer to him.”
Then it was Sunday. And despite Papi’s night off (if I have to hear “Haha….Papi’s BA is 0.080! What’s going ON with your team!?” one more time, I’m going to connipt, I swear), the lack of Lowell, and Dice-K’s ehhhh pitching, my team did good: Yooooooouuuk is breaking records all over the place; Casey’s going buckwild, making and breaking plays; I still prefer Ellsbury to Crisp, but shit, I may have to stand corrected; I didn’t like our Rookie of the Year’s repeated shitfits on Sunday, but who cares? Pedroia’s defense was amazing. And Manny, once again, bent the Yankees over and made them his bitch.
And then Monday night, during the Sox game against the Indians, my roommate asked me somewhat mournfully: “Shaz, it’s gonna be that kind of year, right? The kind where everyone thinks your team’s losing and then all of a sudden you come from behind and win the game? It is, isn’t it?”
Why yes, roomie. It is. That’s how we do.