"Let us go forth a while, and get better air in our lungs. Let us leave our closed rooms...
The game of ball is glorious."

--Walt Whitman

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

You Have 1 New Message(s)

Confession time: I'm a bit of a text messaging addict. So, since I have the plan that allows for approximately one bajillion messages a month, I signed up for this service a few seasons ago that sends the score and winning and losing pitchers to my phone right after every game.

Last night's game being a late one, and life in the little grey box o' gloom being rather more bearable when one is not mostly asleep, I retired for the night after the fifth, with the Twins trailing 3-1. When morning came, I leapt (read: staggered, bitching and moaning) out of bed and immediately pounced upon (groped blearily for) the phone, which informed me that I had one new text message. I read this message and made a sound which I suspect was rather like "eep!". Or possibly "erk!".

Would someone care to explain to me how Twins 3, Angels 16 happened? Because from reading the box score and game notes, all I can really tell is that one Jason Miller, heretofore having pitched 3 2/3 hitless and scoreless innings in the majors, had a very bad night. Nay, a very bad 1/3 of an inning. There seems to have been a grand slam involved.

Were the Angels getting lucky hits (aside, obviously, from the longballs)? Did our pitching just collapse? Things were obviously not looking good when Bonser left the game, with the Twins trailing 6-1, but holy shamoley--eleven hits, ten runs and three walks in the next 3 2/3?

As much as I want an explanation, I'm really rather glad I didn't stay up to see it happen.

For some must watch, while some must sleep:
So runs the world away.
(Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 2)

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