So, I’m sitting here by the dock of the Bay. The sun is splashing the outfield, the arcade near right field is filling with fans, the crack of bat on ball during batting practice is permeating AT&T Park, and I just scarfed a ChaCha Bowl for the Baby Bull’s food stand in left-center field.
In other words, perfect night for a record.
Unfortunately, not going to happen. Of course, by writing that statement, I’m likely ensuring that it will happen. But I’ve been picking Wednesday since the moment of No. 755, and I can’t go back now.
Tonight, Barry Bonds faces off against some guy named Mike Bacsik. To be honest, I’ve heard of him, but that’s about it. His numbers this season seem OK (5-6, 4.19), but let’s face it, if you couldn’t make the Washington Nationals rotation at the beginning of the season, you have issues.
Anyway, one thought that occurred: Why the reluctance of a pitcher to be the one who surrenders the record-breaker. Al Downing, who served up Henry Aaron’s 715th, remains an immortal. You say the name Al Downing, and if you’re a baseball, you know who that is. If I’m Mike Bacsik, this may be my only shot to be remembered forever. If I’m MIke Bacsik, I’m serving it up.