Screw the JFK conspiracy. Tim Wakefield’s the real riddle wrapped inside an enigma wrapped inside a damn fine French pastry. One day he’s Cy Young, the next he’s Matt Young. One minute I’m cursing his name to the heavens, the next I’m calling him up, asking if he’d like me to put a fresh coast of wax on his fancy sports cars. And it’s kinda been that way since his first game with the Sox back in 1952–it’s either heart attack city or steak and beers with the Patriots cheerleaders.
In his season debut last week, Shakey Wakey gave up three runs over six innings and took the loss. But today, today he played the role of stopper, carrying a no-hitter into the eighth and pitching a complete game gem for his first win of the season. More importantly, he ended our three game skid just as I was starting to wonder if this might be a good time to start following women’s softball.
And while I take full responsibility for messing up Curt’s near-no-no in 2007, I played it cool this time. And when one of my coworkers approached me in the hall and started to say something about the game, I simply cupped my hands over my ears, started shouting the lyrics to “In a Big Country”, and ran down the hall. Just like I do pretty much every afternoon.
Anyway, it’s good to have you back, Mr. Wake. Days like these make me wanna buy you — and Dan Duquette — a beer.