So tonight seemed like one of those unfortunate evenings in which baseball must be sacrificed on the altar of a well-rounded life, alias the social ramble. Which a certain wise pitcher once noted ain't restful, and which also can't be good for one's fan karma.
Ordinarily I would have felt guilty that I shut off my little radio and pulled the earpiece out of my ear at approximately 7:33 as Emily tugged on my sleeve to indicate that the old friend we were meeting was already at the restaurant. Ordinarily I would have spent the evening shifting from one side to the other in my chair, making polite noises about the food and whatever it was people had done with their lives since last we caught up while trying to figure out if it had been long enough that I could run off to the bathroom or the front door again to check the score. Ordinarily I would have been scouring the faces of waiters and patrons for some hint that someone had heard a bit of the game in the kitchen or the coatroom — a contest of interest to millions played just a few miles away must leave some trace, right? The waiter brought my pork loin first — that must mean we're ahead or tied!
Ordinarily. Alas, tonight by 7:33 it was 3-0 Phils, the boos were rising from the stands, and Gary and Howie were practically elbowing each other aside to announce their disgust with Tom Glavine, aka The Manchurian Brave. So I shut the radio off with a certain guilty relief, went inside and ate very well and chatted amiably. And when I did slip away to actually use the facilities, I turned on the FAN to find out it was 10-1, which isn't exactly the kind of thing that makes one feel guilty for a dereliction of duty. I'm glad Cliff's streak is alive and I'm sure Reyes' first walk was greeted memorably, but I'm not exactly kicking myself for having spent this one asleep at my post.
Tom Glavine's ERA is 7.04. Ordinary would be a considerable step up right now.
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