Randy Johnson wins his 300th career game as a pitcher, which will be a rare thing in the future. I won't be so bold as to say that there will never be another three-hundred game winner, but there probably won't be too many. The closest guys are in their 40s and still fifty wins short, while the youngest pitcher close is Andy Pettite, who is a young 36, and still needs 80 wins. With young guys like Cole Hamils, Tim Lincecum, hell, maybe even Johan, pitching consistently for the next fifteen to twenty years, it could happen, but in this era of pitch-counts, coddling young pitchers, and the possibility of a six-man rotation reducing available starts (thereby reducing possible victory chances), Randy might be the last for a while.
I went through a phase where I hated Randy Johnson, mainly because he threw his 96 mph fastball at Jim Leyritz's face--Leyritz was at bat during his time as Yankee catcher--because he was upset about not getting the calls he wanted. Maybe Randy wasn't looking to send it to his cheek, but he did, and earned the enmity of Yankee fans everywhere. Then he came to the Yankees and shoved a camerman on the first day. Oh well...there are far more serious things going on in the world to really care about a grudge with some old pitcher...Congratulations are in order, I suppose.
I went to a rainy game at the new Yankee Stadium this past Wednesday when my cousin-in-law Josh's girlfriend couldn't make it...I'll save some thoughts for a specific post later.
Tonight I'm headed to Dobbs Ferry, a small town fifteen miles north of the Bronx, to spend the night in preparation for tomorrow's fishing trip/bachelor party for my friend Marc. He and Linda will be getting married at Grand Central Terminal next Saturday, the 13th. Last Saturday, Corrie went with Linda and her girls to Atlantic City for their bachelorette party...maybe I'll say some things about that town later as well.
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