7 Pitches

The crowd was the biggest I've ever seen at P&C/Alliance Bank Stadium in Syracuse, somewhere around 9,000. (The park holds approximately 11,100 and has only been sold out once that I'm aware of, when Darryl Strawberry was in town on his fourth or fifth attempted comeback with the Yankees/Columbus.)

Scads of people were lined up behind the visitors' dugout before the game, obviously newbies because you physically can't reach the players there, too far removed. Any autographing goes on along the right field stands as the players come and go for pre-game warmups, and as a reliever Schilling wouldn't come out of the clubhouse until mid-game or later.

The PawSox got an immediate 3-0 lead in the first, the Sky(gak)Chiefs caught up, but Pawtucket starter Tim Kester regained form and held them at 3 runs. First baseman Roberto Petagine put the game permanently in the Sox' favor by hitting a grand slam in the fourth.

Schilling emerged from the dugout and crossed to the left center field bullpen between the sixth and seventh innings and fans were cheering so loudly the promotion Syracuse was trying to run was completely drowned out. Anton French, CF, walked part of the way with Curt, chatting away. Wonder what words were exchanged.

When reliever Mark Malaska came on in the bottom of the eighth, the poor guy was booed. Just for not being Curt Schilling. Malaska threw a scoreless inning and with a handshake from the manager was done for the night.

When Schilling finally emerged from the bullpen, he got a standing ovation. A few Yankee fans sitting near me were booing; the Boston fan behind me noted, "Like that's gonna bother him."

Schilling threw more pitches warming from the mound than he did in regulation play. He struck out Kevin Barker on three straight pitches, then threw a ball to John-Ford Griffin who fouled the next one off, then grounded to Petagine at first, and Julius Matos flied out to right on the first pitch.

Seven pitches. Nearly three hours of game preceded them, and a twenty-five minute wait in the parking lot before joining the traffic jam followed. But they were worth it.

I was sitting only a couple rows up from where I usually sit in this park, in row 6 Saturday night. Right behind the visitors' dugout, directly in line with the pitcher's mound, I had the perfect view. And as the team exited the field, filing into the dugout, I stood within 20 feet of a pitching great.

Ya gotta love the minors.