Preface: to all the people who feel the need to attack me by claiming this is 'AI' please go somewhere else. I do not understand the desire to attack anything and everything as AI slop. If you want to criticize my post by all means, but please at least do me the courtesy of reading and presenting an argument.
Game 1 of the ALDS was one of the most perfect baseball games I have attended in a long time. My friend from New Jersey came to town for my baby shower and while our husbands did other stuff: we went to the ballgame. It was a blast!
The weather was almost perfect for a baseball game: mid-60s and sunny; wonderful sweatshirt weather with sunglasses and a hat. We took a Lyft to the game (there were no scooters available), and walked in, and The Jake was packed! My friend had never been to Cleveland’s stadium before so I pointed out all of the features from my home stadium. I pointed out the Home Plate Club, where we got to watch people at a few points during the game. I mentioned how John Adams is a local hero for attending every game, for decades, and banging the drum when the Indians had runners in scoring position.
All the little parts of the game today were perfect. We made friends with our neighbors, and shared in some peanuts. It felt particularly good cracking the shells off today as I watched the Guards load the bases against Chicago. We grabbed a beer in the 4th inning after Chase DeLauter left the bases loaded. My Hazy Headlines tasted particularly good today as we watched, both on the edge of our seats, and cheered; both willing the Guards to score (alas, as I am sure you know: our wishes went unfulfilled).
I mentioned how the Guards have a hotdog race, as opposed to the Yankees subway race (which is digital on a screen). We both sang the national anthem softly and watched in awe as a plane flew overhead. We both enjoyed a hotdog after the 7th inning stretch (mine with peppers and onions, his with just ketchup). The nearby heckler amused us the whole game: especially once we realized just how bad the umpire was (we even enjoyed the White Sox fans nearby throwing the calls back at the heckler later in the game).
When Travis Bazzana struck out to end the game: we both groaned, and made our way back home. We walked across Hope Memorial Bridge, I pointed out the “Guardians of Traffic” statues which lend the team their name.
All in all: this game was one of the most enjoyable I have experienced in years. Something about taking in a baseball game, on a perfect October day, made today feel good. The Guardians lost, but I still left with a smile. The thrill of watching October baseball enhanced the flavor of the beer, the satisfaction of crunching peanuts at my seat, and grabbing a hotdog at the end of a game. At the end of the day: baseball is entertainment, and we enjoyed a game together. That is what baseball is all about, even playoff baseball.
The Game Itself
For those who were less able to just enjoy the small parts of the game (a feeling I empathize with deeply): all I can say is the game sucked. Our offense looked dead, and we let the White Sox off the hook twice after they walked the bases loaded. Our pitching was solid, and we got unlucky in the 7th when Chicago plated a third run on a weird double from Colson Montgomery. The double had an expected batting average of .050, and was hit a measly 64.0 MPH. To quote Terry Pluto: it was an inauspicious beginning for the Cleveland Guardians.
This is where most writers would attempt to explain the game, but as I have said repeatedly: October baseball defies explanation. There is a reason why there are 162 baseball games: it’s supposed to take that long for us to understand who the best teams are; in any one game any team can win. An ace pitcher can turn into a pumpkin and a mediocre pitcher can throw a perfect game. To dwell on that for a second there have been 24 perfect games thrown in Major League Baseball history (well over 100 years of baseball), here are the 24 pitchers to have done so (no pitcher has thrown more than a single perfect game):
-Lee Richmond
-John Montgomery Ward
-Cy Young
-Addie Joss
-Charlie Robertson
-Don Larsen
-Jim Bunning
-Sandy Koufax
-Catfish Hunter
-Len Barker
-Mike Witt
-Tom Browning
-Dennis Martinez
-Kenny Rogers
-David Wells
-David Cone
-Randy Johnson
-Mark Buehrle
-Dallas Braden
-Roy Halladay
-Phillip Humber
-Matt Cain
-Felix Hernandez
-Domingo German
Yes: there are some legends there; Cy Young, Sandy Koufax, Randy Johnson and Roy Halladay are all legends. Postseason heroes, slam dunk, first ballot Hall of Famers. Some are great pitchers in their own right as well. But then there’s Dallas Braden, a perfectly fine pitcher of no note. Or Phillip Humber. Lee Richmond, for instance, was a mediocre pitcher with a career losing record (back when wins and losses meant something).
At the end of the day, in any game, anyone can be the hero. It’s Rajai Davis and Elmer Smtih with arguably the biggest homers in Cleveland postseason history not Jose Ramirez and Tris Speaker. Len Barker, not Bob Feller or Sam McDowell, threw Cleveland’s most recent no-hitter (or perfect game). In any game or any series anyone can be the hero. Any team can win: that’s postseason baseball.
Even after a game one loss: it’s the first team to three wins that advances in this series. We have a game on Monday, we have to go win that one and then two more before Chicago can win two. That’s the task. I will save any fury that Cleveland has to beat Chicago (again) after beating them over 162 games later.
