September 1, 2010
A no-hitter by any name
by Joe Lavin/
John Lackey carried a no-hitter into the eighth inning earlier this season, only to see it slip away. (photo: Getty Images)
Some have called this the Year of the No-Hitter, and so it also has been the Year of Superstition. In no part of baseball, does superstition rule more than during a no-hitter. There are things you can’t say, places you can’t sit, routines that can’t be broken, and live roosters that must be caught, all in the middle of a game. Frankly, it’s tough to keep track of it all.
Like all fans, I feel I have a major impact on baseball games, even at home. I may not have any baseball skills, but I have the power of superstition and luck behind me.
In late July, over just a few days, two Red Sox pitchers took no-hitters deep into a game. John Lackey took a no-hitter into the eighth inning, and then Jon Lester took a perfect game into the sixth inning. Neither got the no-hitter, or the win for that matter, though I can only be responsible for one of them.
Luckily, I didn’t jinx John Lackey at all, but that’s only because it took me a minute to find my remote after noticing the no-hit bid online. When I finally got my cable box on, NESN was already showing the replay of the offending first single. Therefore, I can’t be blamed, though it occurs to me that the no-hitter was probably broken up at the exact moment the thought “Holy @#$%, Lackey’s got a no-hitter going” crossed my mind.
A few nights later, in another late West Coast game, Lester carried a perfect game into the sixth inning. Alas, that one is my fault. I turned the television on just seconds before Eric Patterson dropped a fly ball in center field to lose the perfect game. And then the next batter hit a home run to break up the no-hitter and give Seattle the lead. At that point, I turned off the television and went to bed. My work, unfortunately, was done.
No-hitters are great, because they can happen at any time. I don’t know if it has anything to do with jinxes, but I haven’t had much luck seeing no-hitters. The only one I have seen in its entirety is Hideo Nomo’s in 2001.
I remember I was moving when Derek Lowe threw his no-hitter. My only memory is of my father driving through Cambridge with a trailer of my possessions, while we heard a soft murmur of excitement from the radio that had accidentally been turned down. “Joe Castiglione sounds excited about something,” I said as we arrived at my new place, for even with the volume almost at zero you can tell from his distinctive voice when something is happening.
I did see Clay Buchholz’s no hitter, but only for the last three innings. That feels a little like cheating, frankly. You get all the joy of a no-hitter without all the anxiety. I feel the same way when ESPN’s Baseball Tonight switches to a no-hitter. It doesn’t feel right to watch only the ninth inning of a no-hitter.
Most embarrassingly, I was watching a Tom Arnold movie during Lester’s no-hitter. It wasn’t my idea, and I’d rather not talk about it.
Announcers may hate me for saying this, but one of my favorite parts of a no-hitter is the tradition of never mentioning a no-hitter during the game itself. I enjoy listening to announcers struggle with this. It’s like the haiku of baseball. I especially love all the synonyms that the announcers come up with.
“Fifteen men and 15 down.”
“No batter has made it to first base yet.”
“All zeroes across the board.”
“He’s got a freakin’ no-hitter going, everyone. I can’t keep it in anymore.”
OK, they don’t usually say that last one, though sometimes I do have a special appreciation for those who are bold enough to ignore the tradition and just come out and say it. That kind of chutzpah is cool, though it’s a lot cooler when it’s with an announcer on another team. Don’t get any ideas, Don, OK?
As pitchers get deep into the game, this becomes even more entertaining:
“He hasn’t allowed a triple all game long. Also, no singles, doubles, walks, errors or fielder’s choices.”
“That’s right, Don, and he hasn’t hit a batter either. Plus, catcher’s interference has totally not been a factor in this game.”
Still, people do take this stuff a little too seriously. In one of these games, poor Amalie Benjamin of the Globe seemed under attack just for mentioning (indirectly) on Twitter that a no-hitter might be taking place. Actually, I don’t have a problem with that. My rule is if the person who created a tradition would have no idea that you’re breaking the tradition, it’s allowed.
“Hey, 103-year-old man who started the tradition of never mentioning a no-hitter during the game, is it permissible to tweet about a no-hitter?”
“Birds, I hate birds. And where the hell are my teeth?” So, in short, I think new media is safe on this one.
