Watching history from New Hampshire

Johan, in April

My father called during the seventh inning. I was up in New Hampshire, sitting in the living room of my college roommate's lakehouse after the four of us -- my wife, Bryan, his partner and me -- had returned from dinner. We were settling in to watch Lions for Lambs, a 2007 drama with Meryl Streep, Tom Cruise and Robert Redford (who also directed) that I had never heard of.

"Are you in New Hampshire?" he asked, checking up on our itinerary, I figured. "Have you checked in on the Mets at all tonight?"

I didn't get where he was going at first. "I saw Duda homered and they were up like 5-0," I said.

"Yeah. Well, Johan's through seven now, too. The Mets have the bases loaded ..." And then he went on to explain what the Mets had done in the bottom of the seventh. But I didn't care about that anymore.

"Oh! Right!" I said, cutting him off. "We're about to watch a movie, but I'll watch the game online."

"I didn't want to jinx it, so I wasn't going to say anything. But your mother" -- of my parents, she's the bigger Mets fan -- "said I should call you."

"No, she's right," I replied. After a few more words, we hung up and I pulled out the iPad. "Commercial break in progress," it said. We were heading to the top of the eighth.

Bryan stoked the fire and started the movie. I pulled out headphones and put them halfway in my ears, trying to follow the beginning of the movie in between Gary, Keith and Ron describing the game, commenting on history in the making.

One, two, walk, three -- Johan Santana was through eight, becoming the first Mets pitcher to take a no-hitter into the ninth since Tom Seaver in September 1975. He was, in fact, just the second person to take a no-hitter into the ninth for the Mets, because Seaver's three instances were the only other occasions.

But the pitch count is high -- 122 -- especially for a veteran coming off shoulder surgery and a year rehabbing. His spot in the lineup comes up in the eighth, and he strides to the plate, getting a closeup view of six pitches, then walking back to the dugout. The Mets are retired, and it's on to the top of the ninth.

I haven't been following the game, so I know nothing of Mike Baxter's amazing catch or Carlos Beltran's apparent hit down the left-field line ruled foul. I don't know how many balls have been hit hard or how many plays have saved hits, even in the early innings when anything beyond routine is just a nice play, not a history-saving highlight. I don't even know where the Cardinals are in their lineup, having spent the eighth half-watching, half-following the movie. But now I'm all-in; the earbuds are shutting out the dialogue on the TV. I'm not about to take my attention away from the game to see who is due up, so I just take it one batter at a time. It's probably better that way.

Matt Holliday is first, and I only have a moment to ponder how dangerous he might be before he swings at the first pitch and sends what at first looks like a soft, looping line drive into shallow center field. Well, that's it, I think. But it's not, it's out No. 25, hanging up long enough for Andres Torres to jog in and make an easy catch. I haven't watched baseball in a week; my judgement on fly balls off the bat is a little off.

Up comes Allen Craig. He's not a superstar, maybe even not quite a regular yet -- his biggest moments in last year's World Series came as a pinch-hitter -- but he's still young. Maybe he'll become an All-Star. Maybe he'll be a bit better than Jim Qualls. But his anonymity relative to the hitters on either side of him worries me. But on a 2-2 pitch, he flies out to Kirk Nieuwenhuis in left field.

Two outs. One more to go.

And it's David Freese. Uh-oh. Last year's NLCS and World Series MVP. The guy who is no stranger -- and apparently has no fear of -- pressure. A guy who quit baseball because he wasn't motivated, then came back to it and became an October hero. Santana falls behind immediately, then deeply -- three straight balls. And Yadier Molina's on deck -- the guy who drove Baxter into the wall in the seventh, the guy who kept the Mets from the World Series in 2006. Double uh-oh.

But Johan doesn't give in. He gets a called strike on a fastball on the inside corner -- though he probably could've asked Freese where he wanted it, and still Freese would've watched it go by. Then Johan goes back to the changeup, though this late in the game, on his 133rd pitch, his 80-mph changeup is only 6 mph slower than the fastball on the previous pitch. Freese swings and gets a piece -- but not enough, fouling it off. There's really little doubt as to what pitch is coming next: A changeup. Diving toward the dirt. No chance it's a strike, unless -- YES! Freese swings and misses! Strikeout! No-hitter! History!

Sitting there in a New Hampshire cabin, I softly hiss, "YESSS!!" and raise my hands above my head and clap three times. Everyone in the room jumps. Casey, who's used to this kind of thing from me, explains to the guys, "Yeah, this is what happens." I smile, my heart pounding as I watch the celebration on the screen, and apologize, explaining the significance of what just happened. They're not big sports fans, though they do follow the Red Sox and attend an occasional game. But they humor me with "Wow" and "That's cool" comments.

A flurry of texts and tweets with my mom and a few friends follow as I watch the interviews online. It's Mom -- who has followed the Mets from the beginning, or close to it, who probably enjoys it more than any of us -- who had the misfortune of being away from home with no MLB.TV account to follow it, and no sympathetic bartenders in the Philadelphia area who thought to switch off the Phillies game or whatever NBA playoff game was on one of the half-dozen TVs. You'd think they'd turn one of them to MLB Network or SNY (if they have a sports package) just so they could root for the inevitable hit, another close call for Mets fans.

But that hit never came. From the moment my dad told me what was happening, I knew I had to be watching through the last out. I don't know if it was just a hidden sense of this is finally it or the detachment from baseball I'd had all week along the Maine coast, where the only baseball I watched was the Red Sox game, if it was on in the bar. I think it was more that I didn't have a chance to think ahead, to predict when the hit would come, or to dread it's arrival. I guess it seemed fitting that it would happen when I was away from home -- away from work -- and not fully invested in the day-to-day of the Mets, or any baseball.

And I'm glad we don't subscribe to the events-that-shall-not-be-named theory. Not mentioning a no-hitter in progress is for the dugout. Maybe for the ballpark, if you're in the stands and want to play along. But somewhere along the way, back when the streak was in the 7,000s, I decided that approach hadn't worked for 40-something years of Mets history, so maybe another approach would.

This time, it did. And of course it would be Johan Santana to do it -- though I had started to believe that it had been so long that the first no-hitter in Mets history would be pitched by someone like Chris Schwinden, someone who would turn out to be a journeyman, with no chance of having his uniform number join Seaver's on the wall. (No offense to Schwinden, but his recent waiver acquisition by the Blue Jays makes him an apt and recent example.)

I woke up on Saturday morning with that familiar feeling of not knowing where I was, which often happens after the first night in a new bed. The rain on the roof reminded me I was in the loft of a cabin on Lake Winnipesaukee, and then I remembered what had happened the night before. It wasn't yet 8 a.m., but I reached for the iPad and pulled up MLB.com's extensive coverage, starting with the game story and working my way through every other link on the page. I learned about Beltran's near-hit and watched Baxter's catch again and read every word. History was made and I got to watch it and nothing else mattered at that moment than being a Mets fan.

Jim Qualls vs. Tom Seaver

Part of my 2011 Christmas haul

I finally watched the recent episode of Studio 42 with Bob Costas in which he sat down with Tom Seaver up in Cooperstown to talk about Tom Terrific's career. There was some great stuff in there, particularly Seaver's opinion of the use of today's pitchers. But he also talked about his "imperfect game" in 1969. When asked about Jim Qualls, who got the lone hit -- who was the only baserunner -- in that game, Seaver said he'd never faced the guy before, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever faced him after that.

So of course I had to look it up. I went to Baseball Reference's Play Index and drew up all of Qualls' appearances against Hall of Fame pitchers:

	PA	AB	H	2B	3B	HR	RBI	BB	SO	BA	OBP	SLG	OPS	SH	SF	IBB	HBP	GDP	missG
Tom Seaver	6	6	1	0	0	0	0	0	0	.167	.167	.167	.333	0	0	0	0	0
Don Sutton	6	6	2	0	0	0	0	0	0	.333	.333	.333	.667	0	0	0	0	0
Bob Gibson	4	4	0	0	0	0	0	0	0	.000	.000	.000	.000	0	0	0	0	0
Don Drysdale	2	2	0	0	0	0	0	0	0	.000	.000	.000	.000	0	0	0	0	0
Juan Marichal	2	2	0	0	0	0	0	0	1	.000	.000	.000	.000	0	0	0	0	0
Gaylord Perry	2	2	1	0	0	0	0	0	0	.500	.500	.500	1.000	0	0	0	0	0
Catfish Hunter	1	1	0	0	0	0	0	0	0	.000	.000	.000	.000	0	0	0	0	0
Phil Niekro	1	1	0	0	0	0	0	0	0	.000	.000	.000	.000	0	0	0	0	0

Provided by Baseball-Reference.com: View Play Index Tool Used
Generated 12/28/2011.

Not much there. The hit in the ninth against Seaver on July 9, 1969, was Qualls' only one against The Franchise, and he had only three other hits -- of 31 in his career -- off future Hall of Famers. Seaver wasn't sure if he'd faced Qualls outside of that game, but he did, the following week in Chicago. Seaver allowed five hits and a walk and lost, 1-0. Qualls went 0-for-3.

But back to 7/9/69 -- how unlikely was Qualls' hit against Seaver? Qualls' career was so brief (144 plate appearances in three seasons, spread over four years with three teams) that he has no comparables on Baseball Reference. And a search of other players with 130-150 career PA and an OPS under .600 (Qualls' was .540) mostly gives you pitchers. So a present-day comparison might be Argenis Reyes -- or any number of pitchers -- breaking up a Justin Verlander perfecto with two outs to go. Or, from the last perfect game in the Majors, Roy Halladay against the Marlins in May 2010, the equivalent might be Bryan Peterson getting the hit in the ninth to spoil perfection.

Perfection is not easy -- duh -- and though the Mets one day will pitch a no-hitter (they have to, right?), there's no telling if any of us will see a perfect game from the Amazin's anytime soon. If anyone was going to do it, it probably would've been Seaver against those Cubs in the summer of '69, just one week before Apollo 11 launched for the Moon.

On fantasy trades and no-hitters

The Late Show's Top Ten Cool Things About Pitching A Perfect Game

As read by Randy Johnson on May 19, 2004:

10. "After this, I can go 0-15 for the year and honestly not give a crap."
9. "My pre-game dinner at Denny's tonight? On the house!"
8. "Shows everyone that even though I'm 40, I can still ... I'm sorry, I lost my train of thought."
7. "Cool to get congratulatory call from the President, even though he kept calling me "Larry."
6. "Can walk up to guys who've thrown no-hitters and whisper, 'Loser.'"
5. "All the pine tar I can eat!"
4. "Your catcher hugs you and it feels kinda ... nice"
3. "Maybe people will finally forget about the time I killed that bird."
2. "It's just one more thing about me that's perfect, am I right, ladies?"
1. "George Steinbrenner just offered me a billion dollars to sign with the Yankees."

Maybe two weeks before Randy Johnson's perfect game last week, a Red Sox fan in my fantasy league e-mailed to see if I'd trade him Curt Schilling for Johnson. He was wary of making the "homer" trade, thinking Johnson could be slightly better than Schilling this year. I thought otherwise, and turned it down.

Then Johnson went out and lost 1-0 to the Mets, pitching a great game. He followed that up with perfection.

My thinking was this: Schilling and Johnson can have very similar numbers on the same team, but now Schilling is on a better team. I figured his numbers had the potential to be better. Besides, Schilling's injury last year wasn't a common pitching injury -- he broke some bones in his hand on a hard hit up the middle. It wasn't a shoulder or elbow injury, no rotator cuff or ligament damage. If anything, it allowed him to rest his arm and throw less innings last year. Johnson's injury was different: It was his knee, and some reports say it's still suspect, that as long as the pain remains minor, or as long as he can pitch through it, he'll go on. But when that pain threshold gets too high, he's in trouble. Our league also doesn't have DL slots, a decision I abhor and a fight I've not been able to win with the majority of our 10 members voting against it. Without any DL slots and with our lineup settings, any injured players have to become part of our five-man bench. So if you have four injured hitters and two of your bench spots are taken up by pitchers, then you've got to cut somebody just to get another hitter to put into your lineup. So I couldn't take the chance that I'd be trading my No. 1 pitcher (and one of my three keepers from last year) for a very similar pitcher on a weaker team who, if he went down, would leave me without a No. 1 starter. Yes, if Schilling goes down, I have the same problem, but at least that's one that didn't have the warning signs of a potential Johnson injury.

* * *

As some writers and announcers are fond of saying, for the 6,706th time since the team's inception in 1962, a Mets pitcher failed to throw a no-hitter. Tom Glavine came close yesterday, taking a perfect game into the seventh inning and giving up the only hit in his 4-0 complete-game win with two outs in the eighth.

Four outs away. Again.

And, for the record, I was offered Glavine in a trade in the same fantasy league about a month ago. Turned that one down too. Decided to keep Juan Pierre.

I've watched so many Mets games get past the fifth with a 0 in the hits column for the opposing team. I once remained in the same horizontal position on the couch one night as David Cone mowed down the Phillies or the Braves or whoever it was in the late 80s that he nearly no-hit. I didn't move until he gave up that first hit, and by then I really had to go to the bathroom. I've seen two minor-league no-hitters in person, but I've yet to watch one in the majors even on TV -- most likely owing to the fact that the Mets are usually the only games I watch from the beginning and, well, you know. I was at the ballpark on September 2, 1990, when Dave Steib threw one for the Blue Jays, but that was in Cleveland and I was at Shea.

Maybe I'll see one tomorrow night. I'll be at Shea when Steve Trachsel, who threw one of the Mets' two one-hitters in three games last year, faces the Phillies. It's my fourth Mets game this season ... and my fourth Steve Trachsel start this season. He's quickly become the pitcher I've seen throw the most innings in person in my lifetime. Last offseason, I discovered Retrosheet and began the process of cataloging ever major league game I've attended. I remembered many of them offhand, not by date, but by pitcher, home run, event, etc. I remembered Lenny Dykstra's inside-the-park home run for the Phillies against the Mets, and found the date of July 24, 1990, in a Phillies media guide I have. I recalled Joe McEwing and Mike Piazza homering off Randy Johnson on a Sunday afternoon at Shea in 2000, so I browsed for that box score. I consulted friends and family who attended certain games for their recollections, and I dug out old scrapbooks for ticket stubs. I'm certain I got every one, which is now up to 85 games since my first one in August 1983, and I would also count the 1989 Mets-Yankees exhibition game at Shea at the end of spring training, since it was two major league teams in a major-league park close enough to the regular season, but I can't find a box score. Because I can't remember exactly when I got to the park, or if we left early, or when I was in the bathroom and missed an at bat or four, I used artistic license to just count all stats from every game for which I had a ticket. If I was in the ballpark for an inning, I was in the ballpark for five innings, and the stats count.

So Trachsel leads in individual innings pitched, and Mike Piazza has both games played (24) and at bats (91). I've yet to scour the data for leaders in all the other categories, but I do know this:

• I've been to 16 ballparks, including the now-retired (and, in some cases, razed) Memorial Stadium in Baltimore, Veterans Stadium in Philadelphia, County Stadium in Milwaukee and Tiger Stadium in Detroit.

• The Mets are 21-22 in the 43 games I've seen them play. The Yankees are second with 22 (14-8), the Phillies third with 11 (4-7). The Braves and Pirates, with nine each, lead the teams more than a two-hour drive from the Jersey Shore.

• I've seen all 30 teams play at least once.

• At 3-0, the Royals are the only team undefeated in more than one game I've attended.

• The Dodgers are the opposite at 0-3.

• The Brewers are 2-0 as a National League team (a win each at County Stadium and Wrigley Field), 0-1 as an American League team (at Yankee Stadium).

• After attending one game in 1983 (Yankees 2, Angels 1, August 21) and two in 1985 (the Mets split at Shea, losing to Cincinnati and beating Chicago), I've seen at least one game every year since 1988.

• The 12 games I attended in 2000 are the most in one season, followed by 1990's 10.

• July's 21 games is tops by month, followed by June's 16 and September's 15.

• I've seen four October games, two of them postseason (the Mets' Game 1 NLCS loss in Atlanta in 1999 and their Game 5 NLCS clinching victory over St. Louis to send them to the 2000 Subway Series).

Tomorrow we'll see if the Mets can break .500 for 2004 and reach .500 for my career, and if

Trachsel can improve upon his 2.48 ERA, his 1.20 WHIP and his 2-2 record in 40 innings over six starts.

And just maybe a no-hitter.