One of the beautiful things about sports, baseball especially, is that the possibility to see the unknown is great in every game. Anytime you attend or tune in could be the time you experience something special. At the same time, most games progress in the same manner. It's this balance of the known and the unknown, the mundane and profane, that makes sports so interesting to follow.
It with this in mind that I tuned into the online stream of yesterday's game between our Sun Devils and the Oregon State Beavers. The first game in the series didn't go very well for ASU, being one-hit on the way to a 5-0 loss. I'll admit I was hoping for just a close game, and maybe a win for the away team if everything went right.
Both teams featured great pitching to start the game, and although the Sun Devil batters were really working Andrew Moore, they couldn't quite break through. Until Peavyhouse's home run in the top of the 5th, the two pitchers were working no-hitters (and Kellogg's was still perfect).
But once ASU was on the board, the offensive pieces started falling into place. The difference between before T5, and after is remarkable. The Sun Devils managed 1 walk and no hits before, and then exploded for 10 hits, 4 runs, and 2 walks over the remaining 5 innings.
Meanwhile, Ryan Kellogg was perfect.
He didn't garner many strikeouts, only notching 2, but his pitching was a grand performance. He worked largely fastballs and curveballs the first time through the order, then mixed in his change-up the second time through. He worked both sides of the plate beautifully, and forced the Beaver batters to submit to his plan.
Even a couple attempts at bunts for hits were not enough for OSU, and the defense did a good job getting the balls put into the field, 15 of the outs in the outfield. Yes, there were two chances that Sun Devil defenders ruined Kellogg's chance at the perfecto, but errors aren't necessarily a sign of bad defense. The second error was harder to accept, being a dropped can of corn by Trever Allen.
I've never had a chance to catch a no-hitter, I always seem to be just missing them. Edwin Jackson's no-hitter for the D-backs? I went to go see a movie, and was told it about by all my elated friends as I sat in the lobby. I don't even remember what I went to see. Mark Buerhle's perfect game, just getting out of class. Phil Humber's? Driving back to Phoenix. That's the problem with being baseball obsessed: you hear immediately about these amazing things, but in my case I always seem to be connected but away.
That the no-hitter I finally experienced is from an Arizona State pitcher is even better.