Thoughts from Fenway on Jon Lester’s No-No

1211294970Walking away from Fenway last night (I had tickets, suckers), going down Jersey Street, I overheard a father and his young son talking. The son was annoyed because he didn’t know Jon Lester had a no-hitter going until the game was over.

“But why didn’t you tell me,” the kid said.

“Because of superstition,” the father said. “I didn’t want to jinx it.”

“But I didn’t know.”

“I tried to drop some hints.”

“But I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t.”

The father seemed pretty confident that he was in the right on this one. That superstition is the second most interesting part of watching a no-hitter—particularly when the crowd decides it’s time to stop pretending that they hadn’t noticed the big zero on the board, and acknowledge that they know what’s going on.

Last night, that time came after the first out of the seventh. Through the fifth and sixth, you could almost visibly see people thinking about it. But into the seventh it was clearly on. From that point forward, everyone was on their feet.

And short of the K that clinched it for Lester, the best moment for me was watching him throw a fastball high out of the strike zone in the 9th. It was a ball, but Jesus, it was clocked at 94 miles per hour, after 126 pitches in high wind and unseasonable cold. Phenomenal performance.

On a side note, every time my Manhattan-born wife goes to Fenway, the Sox win. The last two games she’s gone to have been no-hitters. So if anyone has any tickets lying around, I suggest sending them this way. It’s for the good of the nation.

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