I'm the independent thief
no one's got a number on me
everybody's talking while you save this crowd
they water down the drinks and the band plays too loud
1. Giving up a no-hitter and letting the hits pour on.
As a baseball fan, there is nothing more coveted than seeing a no-hitter. For me, a 2nd tier dream would be to witness a no-hitter in person because that would be like winning a baseball lottery ticket. If you really want to be greedy you could wish for a perfect game or an unassisted triple play (oh the anecdotes!). Even to watch one of these on TV is special in my opinion. Of course there is the superstitions that go with every no-hitter. Bat-Girl explains it briliantly in her blog.
Last year I saw Santana pitch 5 innings of perfect baseball. As dumb as I take most fans that attend the game, the actually knew as much with Santana heading into the 6th. The pressure could be felt throughout the dome. After years of Santana giving up 2 or 3 hit-8 inning games, it seemed like he could go the full nine! Sure enough the no-hit bid was broken up with a homer and almost makes people wanna cry because,
-The perfect game is lost
-The no-hitter is lost
-The shut out is lost
And it cut the Twins lead in half. I wanted to throw up!
Yesterday Santana was locked in. He stuck out eight hitters in 4 innings and the Detroit hitters looked like they were owned from the start. They had no chance.
Going into the 7th, the no-hit bid was still intact. The pressure was meatnourmous.
First hitter: base hit
Awwww the no-hit bid was over now the complete game, shutout was next.
2nd hitter: home run
Next three hitters went 2-3 and Santana was a base hit away from giving up the lead and his win chance.
It has to be one of the ugliest moments in baseball because one minute you might see baseball greatness and the next it’s supreme ugliness!
2. Damn Morning Glories
So I went home a couple weekends ago and I got into a conversation with my Mom about plants. Now I’ve never really gotten into a deep conversation with my mom about anything of substance except “What’s new?” but when it comes to plants, my Mom will talk your ear off. So I got into the conversation about all the beautiful crabapple trees that are blooming and she goes on and on about how their grown, when to plant them, and how to water them. It was ten times better than UofM botany class (and $600 cheaper). It was surreal because I’ve never been a plan/garden type. Now I was willing to try something out.
My mom then shows me her morning glories which were just planted.
“Would you like to take some over to your apartment?” my mom asked.
“Uh… sure.” and so it begins. I watered them everyday. I addressed them everyday and I carefully placed them by my window.
I even went shopping at plant stores for knick knacks (the humanity). About that, I thought I was over my head in shopping for mattresses but floral stuff just gives me the creeps.
After ten minutes of looking at knick knacks
Employee seeing Boof meandering around aimlessly around the store: Can I help you?
Boof sweating and turning pale white: I uh…I don’t BELONG HERE! I need something to water my dead morning glories. But oh no! They’re not growing! I just aborted my morning glories! Tell me there’s a drug that can make them better! AAAAAAH I’M OUT OF MY ELEMENT! TELL ME WHERE THE NEAREST BEST BUY IS!!!!!!!
He then runs to the front of the store with a big bag of potpourri
Boof with the bag of potpourri: I HATE THIS SMELL! YAHAHAHAHAHA
Boof pops the bag, scatters potpourri everywhere, and finally runs out into the parking lot screaming.
This last week I came back home,
“Have your morning glories sprouted yet?” my mom asked.
“Noooo. Everything looks the same!”
Then she showed me pot after pot of sprouted morning glories that already had leaves growing.
Someday I’ll get it right.