Was watching the game at my pool hall, so there's no sound and lots of distractions. Every time I look up there's Randy Johnson, throwing and not looking particularly good. It's like he completely scrapped his fastball, or else his fastball has been Mussinaed.
So I'm following out of the corner of my eye, not impressed at all, until I see that it is the end of the fourth inning, and the Big Unit hasn't allowed a hit to the Minnesota Twins.
The Unit cruises through the fifth and I start to get excited, even allowing myself a little fist pump on a good play. If Johnson makes it through another inning, I'm going to have to call time, alert my brother J on the other side of the floor, and discreetly make my "Turn on your TV" calls. With two outs, the hit was truly crap: a grounder up the middle that Johnson couldn't handle, and which Jeter--aparently positioned in foul territory behind third base for Juan Frickin' Castro--couldn't lay a glove on. Lousy way to lose a no-no.
The shocker was that (looked to me, at least) like Johnson was throwing his slider exclusively. More realistically, I felt like Johnson was announcing before each pitch "Here comes kids--the slider! Only 85 miles per hour, eat up!"
And still the Twinks couldn't lay a glove on Rancy Johnson. Nice.
Gotta sleep now. More tomorrow.