A SLIGHT WOBBLE
On mlb.com this morning it said ‘A’s hand Red Sox another loss on late HR’. Oh how some pounce on aberrations. Another loss? Another? I don’t think we’re in the spiral of failure yet.
The Red Sox are 17-4, and are playing with a style and confidence that makes you think we’re going to win every game. Until the last two nights, when a no-hitter and a Khris (that’s not how you spell Chris, FYI) Davis shot spoiled the party. A colleague recently asked if anybody was going to give the Sox a decent game; one should be careful for what one wishes.
Great teams, though, ignore the little bumps along the road. A wise man once said that form is temporary, class is permanent. With the best start in the franchise history I got to thinking about perfection.
ARE RED STOCKINGS THE SECRET?
Physically possible, but statistically highly improbable is a perfect season. In 1869, when people lived in grayscale, the Cincinnati Red Stockings went 67-0. But ignoring that pitiful amount of games I don’t think that fits the bill of a perfect season, because nothing treats perfection the way baseball does. If a perfect season meant winning every game, then a perfect game would just be not letting the opposition score.
However, we the free people of the USA are obsessed with stats, we have to be or fantasy football would be rubbish. A perfect season would have to consist of no hits, no errors, and nobody on base. That’s all pretty hard to achieve. Could we award an outfielder a perfect season if he makes all of his throws and catches every ball that was his responsibility? Maybe, but this is a team game and there’s no I in team. Though there is an I in pitcher, and it would seem that perfection is only achievable for them.
IN OTHER NEWS
At the Durham Bulls the other night Willy Adames hit a home run that bounced off the bull. In the crowd we were thinking free steak for us all! Sadly this is Triple-A, so it’s just for him and a friend, which seemed a shame as we reckon he could already afford it. As an aside, he’s going for a side of asparagus. So there, budding athletes, you gotta eat your greens to make it to the minors.