I couldn't sleep last night. There may have been many reasons, but this one kept coming to the front of my brain: My Oakland Athletics threw a perfect game.
Not just a no-hitter. A perfect game. Viva Dallas Braden!
I watched the guy for some 5 years now. I remember him carrying the candy bucket for the pitchers, arriving eagerly at the bullpen before the game. I remember seeing the bill that was so straight, all the birds from The Birds could perch on it, thinking, who is this kid? I remember watching him take the freight train from Sacramento to Oakland, bomb out, and then go back again. But there was something about this kid.... you were pulling for him.
At the age of 26, he has now arrived.
I didn't go to the game. I had tickets, but I gave them to our son, Jamie. I messaged him some no-hitter trivia facts in the 7th inning: Dave Stewart threw the last no-hitter in 1990. I didn't dream the game would be perfect. That's so hard, nearly impossible, and depends upon 9 guys being absolutely perfect. But, yet, they were.
I had the game on as I did household chores. Those chores got left behind once we reached the 6th and there were still no hits by the powerful Tampa Bay Rays. Awesomeness was approaching. I cried when the final out was made, Pennington to Barton, and joined with my teammates in jumping up and down.
I still haven't gotten over it. It will probably be the only one I'll ever witness, even though it wasn't live. The event is still awesome, even a day later. This is why you watch baseball, to watch young men do extraordinary things. Especially on the Little Team That Could. This is why I'm an Oakland A's fan.
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