Jinx no, curse yes: Reds' Bailey makes no-hit statement

^
I'm often asked to name the best events I covered during my sportswriting career, and I'm lucky that I can rattle off a pretty nice list:

1991 World Series (Twins over Braves in 7 amazing games); 2002 Super Bowl (Tom Brady's legend is born); Michael Jordan's last NBA Finals game (the steal, the shove, the swish, the pose); 1994 Stanley Cup (Rangers win first Cup in 54 years); 1982 ALCS (as a kid reporter right out of college for AP, I was assigned to write about the Angels of Reggie Jackson, Fred Lynn, Rod Carew, Bobby Grich, Don Baylor and Gene Mauch); 2005 NCAA Midwest Regional final (Deron Williams carries Illinois to an amazing comeback victory over Arizona); and so on and so on.

But you know, sometimes the "regular" events that turn into something special ended up being even more memorable. Scott Erickson, who for two years allowed the most hits of any pitcher in baseball, threw a no-hitter for the 1994 Twins. The Vikings lost to the Bears when their punter dropped a snap; teammate Keith Millard ripped the punter after the game and then, one week later, suffered a career-ruining knee injury. Before the Bulls' first game of the post-Jordan, post-Pippen, post-Jackson era, Bill Wennington promised fans over the P.A. system that the team would compete hard; Wennington then didn't jump for the opening tip. Good stuff, eh?

Though I no longer cover events big or small these days, I still occasionally get treated to an event I won't soon forget.

Homer Bailey's no-hitter on Tuesday night is in that category for two reasons:

1. I didn't watch the game until the ninth inning. Channel-surfing, I paused momentarily when I got to that game and saw a clip of the final out of Bailey's no-hitter the previous season. Fox Sports Ohio announcers Thom Brennaman and Jeff Brantley immediately brought me up to speed: Bailey was three outs away from yet another no-no.

Some other announcers and team networks would have pretended the no-hitter wasn't happening because they wouldn't have wanted to "jinx" the pitcher. As a viewer, however, I'm glad Brennaman, Brantley and Fox Sports didn't prescribe to that ridiculous ritual. If they had, I would have kept clicking and would have missed the final three outs. Because the announcers and the network did their jobs, viewers like me got to see history being made.

Bailey became only the 31st pitcher in big-league history to pitch more than one no-hitter. He also became only the second -- following his idol, Nolan Ryan -- to throw the last no-no in the majors one season and the first in the next season. Cool.

2. Afterward, Bailey was interviewed by the station's Jeff Piecoro, who asked the pitcher about the seventh-inning leadoff walk he issued to Gregor Blanco -- San Fran's only baserunner in an otherwise perfect game.

Piecoro: "It's right after you had an at-bat. You didn't have really time to relax between innings. Did that have anything to do with it?"

Bailey: "No man, I mean I just f---ing walked a guy. This game's pretty tough."

That's right. Minutes after throwing a no-hitter, celebratory shaving cream still all over his face, Bailey threw an F-bomb on live TV.

He said it matter-of-factly, too. Just another adjective.

Sports. The only Reality TV worth watching.
^

Time again for this old hack to play ball

^
There was a point between wanting to be a comedian and wanting to be a veterinarian that I actually wanted to be a basketball player when I grew up.

Then, as now, I wasn't very smart. But even I was smart enough to know a not-quite-6-foot Jewish kid with the speed of a plow horse and the leaping ability of a sumo wrestler probably wasn't going to be able to hang with the likes of Bob McAdoo and Jamaal Wilkes.

So I gave up on that dream -- and, soon enough, would give up on the idea of being a veterinarian when I discovered to my horror that I'd actually have to take science and math while going to college for something like eleventy-zillion years -- to become a writer.

No regrets ... but that doesn't mean I'm still not a wannabe jock. And these days, that means doing the few active things I can do and hopefully not get maimed in the process.

That was a long introduction to say this:

It's softball time again!

Yes, for the second straight year, I'm playing in the Charlotte Senior Sports softball league. The season just started but already I've seen my share of excitement. Believe it or not, the Sons of Pitches actually traded for me a couple of weeks before the opener. Hey, if Babe Ruth, Nolan Ryan and Jeff Bagwell weren't too good to be traded, neither was I!

Our manager, Pat, and his first-round draft choice, Tom, were major contributors on my championship team from last year and decided they wanted me as a teammate again.

For comic relief, I assume.

In reality, I'm pretty sure Pat acquired me because he and I had been among the only folks who regularly went out for a beer after games last season. I'm an OK ballplayer who is willing to play anywhere the manager wants, and I'm a team-first chatterbox who makes wise cracks to keep everybody loose, but really, all Pat wanted was his drinking buddy back.

So anyway, we played our first game of the season Tuesday. It was a back-and-forth affair that we lost 19-18 in the final inning. I played catcher and batted 10th, both of which were absolutely fine by me. A lot of people don't like catching, but I think it's fun to handle the ball on every play and maybe be on the receiving end of a huge play that can decide a game. As for where I bat in the lineup, I'd be worried about my team if I was placed too high in the order.

I was fine at the plate, with two singles, a walk and three runs. As one might guess looking at the score, we had several players who did as well or better than I did. We struggled some in the field, though, which will happen in a season opener. The other team didn't exactly flash a bunch of Gold Gloves, either.

Aside from the final result, it was a fun night -- even if I had to disappoint Pat and opt out of postgame libations. I've been battling a cold and I decided that NyQuil, not Stella Artois, should provide my alcohol for the evening.

Hopefully, next week will be a different story, both on the scoreboard and afterward.
^

A Series worth staying awake for

^

The problem with the Cardinals and the Rangers is their games are so doggone boring!

And how 'bout that David Freese? After he dropped a popup that every Little Leaguer catches 100 out of 100 times, my wife turned to me and asked: "What the hell? Is the fix in?"

Nah, Freese was just setting himself up to be the hero two hours later. He trumped God, who apparently told Josh Hamilton he was gonna homer in the 10th inning. I wonder how much dough God lost on this one.

Oh, and for the record ... in the ninth inning, I thought the Rangers should have pitched to Albert Pujols instead of to the hottest hitter in the world. Lance Berkman made Tony La Russa's decision to bat him fourth look absolutely brilliant. Before we give La Genius too much credit, though, it should be noted that it took him six games to come to his senses and finally put Berkman in the Pujols-protecting spot in place of Matt Holliday -- who has killed the Cards with his bat and glove all Series.

I'm looking forward to tonight's Game 7. I just hope that FOX somehow can be convinced to show a few shots of Nolan Ryan in the stands. I mean, we've hardly seen any of those so far.

^

Management regrets the error

^
Under the subject line "Old habits die hard, I guess," my former GateHouse editor, Casey Laughman (who later met a similar fate at the hands of that fine company), couldn't resist needling me a little by e-mail:

"I can't believe I'm pointing this out, but Nolan Ryan was on the Miracle Mets in '69."

D'oh! Despite me blogging that Ryan, now the Rangers' GM, had never sniffed a World Series as a player, he was, in fact, a wild-throwing bit player on the Mets' first title team. Another nice catch by Casey!

Man, I'd better clean up my act. If I keep making mistakes like that, I could get fired from this lucrative gig!
^

Ryan and Dubya will have Series to remember

^
Just as I predicted before the season, it's Giants vs. Rangers for baseball supremacy.

Think of it as the Former Juicer Bowl, with Barry's Boyz taking on the club that gave us A-Roid, RaFail Palmeiro, Juan Gone and a cast of dozens.

Or think of it as the matchup of clubs named for New York teams in other sports.

Or think of it as Fox TV's nightmare. No Yankees, no Red Sox, no Dodgers ... and, of course, because it is the World Series, no Cubbies.

So who wins?

With Cliff Lee heading the rotation for a short series, the Rangers have almost as much pitching as the Giants do. And the Rangers have a far better offensive attack.

Then again, the Giants do have Juan Uribe - and I'm not even saying that just to be funny. The man is clutch in the postseason. (They also have Mike Fontenot, my wife's favorite ballplayer because he's the only major leaguer she can post up.)

So ... I'm going with Ron Washington. Just a few months after being disgraced as a cokehead, it would be quite a story if he manages the Rangers to the championship. Their best player, Josh Hamilton, is a recovering druggie, too. One of the things I love about sports is its redemptive nature.

In addition, a Texas triumph would give Nolan Ryan, who never even sniffed a title in his eight or so decades as a player, a championship in his first season as owner.

And it would signal that maybe all the U.S.A. needs to fully recover from the mess we're in is more distance from George W. Bush.

After all, it took the Rangers 16 years to overcome Dubya, their managing partner from 1989-94.

Add it all up and ... Rangers in 6.