For every No Hitter in history there are stories about people who could have been there, but weren’t.
Today, Phil Humber threw the 21st perfect game in baseball history against the Mariners and I missed it.
Today, I joined the ranks of baseball fans who could have seen history, but didn’t.
If I felt any worse about this, I’d be on suicide watch. No perfect game in my scorebook. No “I was there” stories. No admission into one of the most exclusive clubs in baseball fandom.
Did I mention I turned down FREE tickets today? A certain someone who’s initials are MM pretty much owes me his first born child in a pagan sacrifice.
My perfect game story involves me checking Twitter and praying to every god I could conjure that it wouldn’t happen.
But it did. And I missed it.
And that really fucking sucks right now.