Curt-ain Call (Zing!)

So Curt Schilling has retired today.

Actually yesterday. Unless you're on the West Coast, in which case it was still today. Or if you live in Guam. In which case it may have been two days ago. I say "may have been" because I tried to be clever and discover somewhere where it would be two days ago. But the calculations involved ended up being more complicated than I thought. I have grown weary of actually trying to figure this out and will say it was two days ago in Guam. If you feel like correcting me on this, be my guest.

Of course, he announced this on his blog, because where else would he do it? It's not like he could have called a press conference or something.

Given his unabashed publicity whoring over the years, I'm pretty surprised he didn't call a press conference. With fireworks. And tigers. And large-breasted women with loose morals.

Hooray for boobs!

ESPN posted an article. Somehow this article only mentions in passing what I will always remember him for - his victory over the Yankees in Game 7 of the 2001 World Series. Remember? The game when he pitched 7 1/3 innings on only 3 days rest? Randy Johnson closed the game by retiring the only 4 batters he faced after throwing 104 pitches the night before? Luis Gonzalez's walk-off single to beat a previously invincible Mariano Rivera and the three-time champs Yankees?

That game remains the single greatest game I have ever seen. In any sport.

No I don't include any Michigan games in this tally. If I did it might not make the top 10.

There was nothing about that game that wasn't awesome. It was a great pitching battle the whole time through.

In contrast to some other games in that series, where one team couldn't get an out.

Then Randy Johnson came out to pitch, and everybody said "Holy shit!" Then Mariano Rivera came out, and I almost turned the game off. He was untouchable that year. He's the only non-knuckleballer whom I've ever seen switch hitters hit off the same side as he throws. (Tony Fernandez was the hitter.) He had 50 saves that season. Mariano Rivera didn't blow saves. He didn't even give up hits.

I would like to know how many bats he broke that season versus how many hits he gave up. It seemed like almost every lefty he faced broke their bats that season.

I watched in disgust and prepared myself for watching the fucking Yankees win another fucking World Series. Then a ray of hope appeared. Rivera made a bad throw to second on a bunt. Then Brosius decided to hold on to a ball instead of making the throw for a double play. A hit by pitch and a bloop over a pulled-in infield ended it. Greatest. Game. Ever.

This post was done in the style of The Sound and the Fury. Except this post makes some sense. If you understood the reference, I feel sorry for you. If you didn't get the reference you never will because the book is impossible to read. Why would I do this? I felt like it, that's why.