Sunday, August 16, 2009
Sweet, Inaccurate Music
Not an Oscar-worthy performance tonight. Eight stolen bases? Come on. Chimpland.
Did you hear Viola's story about the stolen glove? He said he and Wade Boggs had their gloves stolen in Cleveland, and for his next start at Fenway, he had three balls clunk off his new glove, costing the team three runs. Then he fired his new glove 20 rows into the stands, and somebody somewhere still must have that glove.
Eh, no Peg. I love it when ex-jocks tell stories, because faultfinding Virgo proofreaders get to look it up and see how much they screwed it up. Here's the game he's talking about: August 21st, 1992. Third inning. I read the newspaper articles from the next day. There was a grounder by a young Ken Griffey Jr. that he deflected, and then one by a young Tino Martinez that he bobbled. Neither were scored errors, and they weren't back to back. Another article does mention three muffed balls that inning. That stuff, whatever, I can't expect a guy to remember everything from 17 years ago exactly as it happened. (Unless they're Dennis Eckersley.) But what about this glove-tossing? One article said that after the inning he fired his hat and glove to the ground, and quoted manager Butch Hobson, who said, "I thought he was going to throw it into the stands one time."
Doesn't that tell you that as much as Frank wanted to throw his glove into the stands, he didn't actually do it? So, if anyone out there caught Frank Viola's glove that night--you're lying, too!
Viola also failed to mention that he pitched an eight inning, one-run game between the glove being stolen and this game. So the new glove didn't cause any problems until two starts later.
Who knows, he was there that night and I wasn't--maybe the people who documented the night were on drugs. I don't know.
Did you hear Viola's story about the stolen glove? He said he and Wade Boggs had their gloves stolen in Cleveland, and for his next start at Fenway, he had three balls clunk off his new glove, costing the team three runs. Then he fired his new glove 20 rows into the stands, and somebody somewhere still must have that glove.
Eh, no Peg. I love it when ex-jocks tell stories, because faultfinding Virgo proofreaders get to look it up and see how much they screwed it up. Here's the game he's talking about: August 21st, 1992. Third inning. I read the newspaper articles from the next day. There was a grounder by a young Ken Griffey Jr. that he deflected, and then one by a young Tino Martinez that he bobbled. Neither were scored errors, and they weren't back to back. Another article does mention three muffed balls that inning. That stuff, whatever, I can't expect a guy to remember everything from 17 years ago exactly as it happened. (Unless they're Dennis Eckersley.) But what about this glove-tossing? One article said that after the inning he fired his hat and glove to the ground, and quoted manager Butch Hobson, who said, "I thought he was going to throw it into the stands one time."
Doesn't that tell you that as much as Frank wanted to throw his glove into the stands, he didn't actually do it? So, if anyone out there caught Frank Viola's glove that night--you're lying, too!
Viola also failed to mention that he pitched an eight inning, one-run game between the glove being stolen and this game. So the new glove didn't cause any problems until two starts later.
Who knows, he was there that night and I wasn't--maybe the people who documented the night were on drugs. I don't know.
Comments:
<< Home
I watched the part with the Viola story again--he says the Cleveland series had been a weekend one (wrong!) and that the glove throwing game was the following Friday or Saturday (kinda right!). Then he says it was three grounders in a row (wrong!) in the third inning (right!) and it led to three runs (wrong!).
I just think it's so funny because if you're telling a story about something in your past, even if someone else was there and remembered it differently, it doesn't matter because there's no proof either way. But when your life involves something that's so carefully documented, you can't just give your memory of it, because it's easily proven wrong. But ballplayers do it constantly.
Only Eck can tell a 20-year old story correct with 99 percent accuracy.
I just think it's so funny because if you're telling a story about something in your past, even if someone else was there and remembered it differently, it doesn't matter because there's no proof either way. But when your life involves something that's so carefully documented, you can't just give your memory of it, because it's easily proven wrong. But ballplayers do it constantly.
Only Eck can tell a 20-year old story correct with 99 percent accuracy.
<< Home
Post a Comment
If you're "anonymous," please leave a name, even if it's a fake one, for differentiation purposes.
If you're having trouble commenting, try signing in to whatever account you're using first, then come back here once you're signed in.