And the Winning Streak Is Cut Short...

April 3, 2001

This was not an enjoyable game, I should forewarn you right now. And I really thought it would be, especially after the brilliant opening a la the Sopranos where they were doing the Soprano credits only it was "starring" our boys and "introducing" Ichiro and was "directed by" Lou Piniella which was really, really clever I thought. The first and second innings passed uneventfully, and John "Started Out In Full Command" Halama was pitching very well, but then in the third, the Oakland "Second Place This Year" Athletics issued a little payback from the day before by loading up the bases and hitting a GRAND SLAM, yes, that's right, a GRAND SLAM, and no, I'm not lying, a GRAND SLAM by their shortstop, Miguel "Totally On Laura's List Right Now" Tajada and all I can say is a) that really, really sucked, and b) I did not appreciate that one little bit, and c) I guess their shortstop doesn't have any trouble hitting homeruns at Safeco Field unlike say, the Texas "Ball Four!" Rangers' shortstop whose name I cannot even bring myself to mention at the moment, as severely annoyed as I am. 4-0 Oakland.

We fire right back with… nothing. 4th inning. Oakland promptly starts hitting again. We end up with runners at the corners before Lou "What Is Going On With My Starters!" Piniella has finally seen enough of Halama and brings in Ryan "Laura Will Need To See Him In A Few More Games Before She Can Add Anything Clever Here" Franklin, who gets an out, but unfortunately it's an out via sacrifice fly, which means Oakland tacked on another run and I sigh forlornly.

5-0 Athletics going into the bottom of the fourth. We start making a little progress with Mike "Griffey Who?" Cameron walking and Edgar "Hitting Machine" Martinez walking and Cammie made it to third with John "Gold Glove!" Olerud's fly out and then Edgar made it to second on a wild pitch but we were unable to get a single run out of this and I curse profanely.

Let's just skip past the fifth. And the sixth. And the seventh. Bottom of the eighth, we score one. And that about does it really.

We lose. I sulk.