I am over halfway through the 1991 APBA baseball replay and I've only had one no-hitter so far during the season. For some, rolling a no-hit game is extremely rare, so having one after playing 1,100 games may not be so odd.
But I've had several no hitters during the past 19 years that I've been doing APBA season replays. Maybe it's the way I roll the dice; maybe it's pure luck and I have the right pitcher with the right rating on the mound when batters face him. Maybe it's that I've played thousands and thousands of games over the past two decades and, simply because of statistical occurrence, no-hit games are bound to happen. You know, that ol' put an infinite number of monkeys in a room with an infinite amount of typewriters and one chimp eventually will pound out the works of Shakespeare over time.
In this 1991 season, though, a no-hit game is as scarce as a clean, steroid-free Jose Canseco stepping up to the plate for the As. And that may be why the no-hitters are so few. The APBA game company cards each player, giving him numbers to replicate his actual seasons. I've noticed at least one or two starting batters on several teams have a '7' on their cards, which is a pretty much a universal number for a base hit regardless of who is pitching most of the time. Put 'em in and they're apt to get a hit.
These 1991 games are not hitfests, though. There are very few games where teams score in the double digits. Instead, teams average from eight to 12 hits a game. Scores like 5-3 are common.
Bob Tewksbury of the St. Louis Cardinals has the only no-hitter so far in this replay. He walked two and struck out five in San Francisco, leading the Cards to a 4-0 victory. His two walks came in the first inning.
Tewks was no Johnny Vander Meer in his next game. Vander Meer, fans know, tossed consecutive no-hit games in June 1938 when he beat Boston and then Brooklyn. Instead, Tewskbury went six innings against San Diego, giving up six runs and 10 hits before he was mercifully relieved.
I've had a few games get close. Chris Nabholz of the hapless Montreal Expos was perfect through four innings in a recent contest against the Mets. He lost his bid when Howard Johnson blooped a single in the fifth and then Nabholz shut down New York, leading the Expos to one of their few wins of the season.
Dennis Martinez, also of the Expos, took a no-hitter into the eighth inning before giving up a hit to the Cubs.
I wanted to compare similar seasons to see if the rarity of no-hit games was common. The last comparable season I did to 1991 was 1981 a few years ago. In that replay season, I saw eight no-hitters. Ron Guidry shut down the Rangers; Doc Medich led Texas over the White Sox; Tom Seaver of the Reds edged Houston, 1-0, in 10 innings; Burt Hooton of the Dodgers shut down the Cubs and his teammate, Jerry Reuss, no-hit Atlanta; Rick Rhoden of the Pirates didn't give up a base hit to Cincinnati; John Denny no-hit Minnesota for Cleveland; and Cubs' pitcher Doug Bird shut down Houston.
In the 1981 replay, I averaged a no-hitter every 263.25 games.
I looked back on the past 100 games in the 1991 replay to see when teams got their first hit of the game. Visting teams recorded their initial hit in the first inning of a game 48 times. The home team did the same in 41 games. Visitors got their first hit of a game 17 times in the second inning, compared to 18 times for the homers. Basically, 65 percent of the time, visiting teams will get a hit by the second inning and the home team will get one 59 percent of the time in the first two frames.
Tonight, I reached Game No. 1107 in the 1991 replay. If I stay on this pace, I'll be lucky to have two no-hit games for the year. In the real 1991 season, five pitchers tossed no-hitters, including Nolan Ryan who hurled his seventh of his career.
I'll keep rolling, and I'll get anxious if a pitcher gets into the later innings without giving up a hit. I know talking about a no-hitter in progress is bad luck, but they are so far and few in this replay season, that I'll have to take notice when one nears.
Friday, February 16, 2018
Thursday, February 1, 2018
I Must Be Getting Tired
I must have been tired the night I rolled the Cubs vs. Cardinals game in my 1991 APBA replay.
Either that, or I'm beginning to lose my faculties, and there's plenty of recent evidence to support that theory.
The Cubs were trailing, 4-2, to the Cardinals in the top of the seventh inning when my mistake occurred. Chico Walker opened the inning with a double and then scored when Jose Oquendo bobbled a grounder hit by Shawon "Thunderpup" Dunston. The Cubs then went down in order, but I failed to note the team's run on my score sheet. The Cards added two runs in the bottom of the seventh and I had St. Louis leading 6-2 instead of the real 6-3 tally.
Ryne Sandberg hit a home run in the Cubs' eighth and reliever Chuck McElroy held the Cardinals hitless in the bottom of the eight. According to my stats, the Cubs had to score three runs, rather than the actual two, to tie the game in the ninth. Walker hit a bases-empty home run to lead off the top of the ninth and, after Dunston struck out, catcher Rich Wilkins added his own homer. Lee Smith then got the remaining outs and I thought he picked up the save for the Redbirds.
When I tallied the stats, I noticed the additional run that the Cubs had scored. The game was actually tied. I played on. Paul Assenmacher pitched a scoreless ninth for the Cubs and the contest went into extra innings. Sandberg hit his second home run of the game in the 10th and the Cubs won.
Had I not caught my mistake, Chicago would have erroneously lost. They need all the help they can get in this 1991 replay. I'll call in Holly, a long-suffering Cubbies' fan (until redemption in 2016), to roll for the team on occassion. When slugger Andre Dawson is up, she will even imitate his batting stance before rolling the dice. (She's a keeper, she is).
I've made mistakes before, mostly because I was sleepy. I think all APBA players have done that at times. Life competes with our time and mental energy. There's only so much time to play APBA. I used to play late into the night when I was alone. Or, I'd wake up at 3 a.m. or 4 a.m. and, after not being able to return to sleep, I'd toss a few games. When I'd get groggy, I'd catch that I inadvertently gave one team four outs in an inning. I'd have to go back and replay from where the error was made or I'd postpone the game on account of drowsiness.
I was glad I noticed the Cubs' mistake, but I wondered if there were other goofs that I may have missed. And I wasn't too ensured about my mental status after a series of events that happened these past few weeks after that game.
First, I found I couldn't punch in my time card at the hotel where I work part time one afternoon. I struggled, until I realized I was attempting to slide the card into the coffee machine sitting next to the time clock. I marked that dumb one to just being tired.
Part of my job as a second-shift desk clerk includes making sure the hotel is clean. I decided to vacuum the elevator rug because guests had tromped mud into it. After I cleaned it, I began looking for an extension cord and wondering how I'd plug it into the first-floor outlet to power the vacuum on the second, third and fourth floors. It took a while before it dawned on me: It's the same elevator cab that goes to each floor. Once I cleaned the rug the first time, I was done.
And finally, last week we went to northern Illinois to visit Holly's mother. Early one morning it snowed about 4 inches, covering our car in the hotel parking lot. I went outside to sweep the snow off the hood, headlights, windshield, side windows and back window with a thin hotel towel. I was doing a fine job, clearing the snow and making the car safe to drive, despite not wearing any gloves in the cold. When I was about 80 percent done, I swept off a pile of snow on the driver's side of the windshield and noticed odd stickers adhered to the window. It was a parking pass for the nearby Great Lakes military base. I don't have a parking pass for the Great Lakes military. I also don't have a Pennsylvania license plate, which this car did.
I had swept off the wrong car. It and our car were parked beside each other. Both cars were gray Nissans. Maybe it was a simple mistake. Maybe I am an idiot. I don't know. I hope the guy who owned that car appreciated my work.
I began the same process on our car and when finished, I stumbled back into the hotel; my fingers were frozen into gnarly claws. I looked like an over-emoting actor trying to horrify viewers with his campy Dracula-stalking-his-victim role. Holly had to pry the soaked towel from my hands.
I plan to continue playing games late into the night when I have a chance. It's 1:30 a.m. now and I hope to roll a game or two before retiring for the night. I won't post this on the blog until later - when I have a chance to read over it and make sure there are no really dumb errors. I'll really try to focus on the game to ensure the outcome is correct. And when the Cubs play again, I'll double check the score after each inning. They don't need a sleep-deprived moron helping them lose games. They can do that on their own.
Either that, or I'm beginning to lose my faculties, and there's plenty of recent evidence to support that theory.
The Cubs were trailing, 4-2, to the Cardinals in the top of the seventh inning when my mistake occurred. Chico Walker opened the inning with a double and then scored when Jose Oquendo bobbled a grounder hit by Shawon "Thunderpup" Dunston. The Cubs then went down in order, but I failed to note the team's run on my score sheet. The Cards added two runs in the bottom of the seventh and I had St. Louis leading 6-2 instead of the real 6-3 tally.
Ryne Sandberg hit a home run in the Cubs' eighth and reliever Chuck McElroy held the Cardinals hitless in the bottom of the eight. According to my stats, the Cubs had to score three runs, rather than the actual two, to tie the game in the ninth. Walker hit a bases-empty home run to lead off the top of the ninth and, after Dunston struck out, catcher Rich Wilkins added his own homer. Lee Smith then got the remaining outs and I thought he picked up the save for the Redbirds.
When I tallied the stats, I noticed the additional run that the Cubs had scored. The game was actually tied. I played on. Paul Assenmacher pitched a scoreless ninth for the Cubs and the contest went into extra innings. Sandberg hit his second home run of the game in the 10th and the Cubs won.
Had I not caught my mistake, Chicago would have erroneously lost. They need all the help they can get in this 1991 replay. I'll call in Holly, a long-suffering Cubbies' fan (until redemption in 2016), to roll for the team on occassion. When slugger Andre Dawson is up, she will even imitate his batting stance before rolling the dice. (She's a keeper, she is).
I've made mistakes before, mostly because I was sleepy. I think all APBA players have done that at times. Life competes with our time and mental energy. There's only so much time to play APBA. I used to play late into the night when I was alone. Or, I'd wake up at 3 a.m. or 4 a.m. and, after not being able to return to sleep, I'd toss a few games. When I'd get groggy, I'd catch that I inadvertently gave one team four outs in an inning. I'd have to go back and replay from where the error was made or I'd postpone the game on account of drowsiness.
I was glad I noticed the Cubs' mistake, but I wondered if there were other goofs that I may have missed. And I wasn't too ensured about my mental status after a series of events that happened these past few weeks after that game.
First, I found I couldn't punch in my time card at the hotel where I work part time one afternoon. I struggled, until I realized I was attempting to slide the card into the coffee machine sitting next to the time clock. I marked that dumb one to just being tired.
Part of my job as a second-shift desk clerk includes making sure the hotel is clean. I decided to vacuum the elevator rug because guests had tromped mud into it. After I cleaned it, I began looking for an extension cord and wondering how I'd plug it into the first-floor outlet to power the vacuum on the second, third and fourth floors. It took a while before it dawned on me: It's the same elevator cab that goes to each floor. Once I cleaned the rug the first time, I was done.
And finally, last week we went to northern Illinois to visit Holly's mother. Early one morning it snowed about 4 inches, covering our car in the hotel parking lot. I went outside to sweep the snow off the hood, headlights, windshield, side windows and back window with a thin hotel towel. I was doing a fine job, clearing the snow and making the car safe to drive, despite not wearing any gloves in the cold. When I was about 80 percent done, I swept off a pile of snow on the driver's side of the windshield and noticed odd stickers adhered to the window. It was a parking pass for the nearby Great Lakes military base. I don't have a parking pass for the Great Lakes military. I also don't have a Pennsylvania license plate, which this car did.
I had swept off the wrong car. It and our car were parked beside each other. Both cars were gray Nissans. Maybe it was a simple mistake. Maybe I am an idiot. I don't know. I hope the guy who owned that car appreciated my work.
I began the same process on our car and when finished, I stumbled back into the hotel; my fingers were frozen into gnarly claws. I looked like an over-emoting actor trying to horrify viewers with his campy Dracula-stalking-his-victim role. Holly had to pry the soaked towel from my hands.
I plan to continue playing games late into the night when I have a chance. It's 1:30 a.m. now and I hope to roll a game or two before retiring for the night. I won't post this on the blog until later - when I have a chance to read over it and make sure there are no really dumb errors. I'll really try to focus on the game to ensure the outcome is correct. And when the Cubs play again, I'll double check the score after each inning. They don't need a sleep-deprived moron helping them lose games. They can do that on their own.
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