The No-Hitter

 

We had a no-hitter on the air last night.

Waterford, backed by the pitching of two dynamic hurlers, shut out New Milford 8-0.

First, let's deal with New Milford. That's a team that I really like. There's talent but there's also heart. That will always be my kind of team. The late 90s Yankees were such a blast because, while they had Jeter and Mariano, they also had the lunchpail guys like Paul O'Neill and Joe Girardi and a lot of not-quite Hall of Famers like David Cone and Jorge Posada and Bernie Williams.

But they never gave up. They just kept coming at you and found a way to win four titles in five years.

I still have nightmares over basically everything since the beginning of 2001 but I disagree.

New Milford's second pitcher of the night, Ryan Lyons, kept the game steady at 5-0 before allowing three runs in the top of the sixth. To his credit, he settled his team down, striking out eight over 5.1 innings.

So, while I also called a no-hitter (of sorts) on Sunday night in the Trumbull win over Norwalk, this was different. Sure, it was 8-0 but bad innings happen.

Yet Waterford had exceptional pitching. While much attention has been paid to Matt Shampine of Waterford, right-hander Colby Sheehan was just waiting for his moment to shine.

Boy, did he find it.

According to my count, he threw 91 pitches over five innings, walking five and allowing no runs. Only one New Milford hitter got past first base and that was due to a wild pitch by Sheehan.

Oh, and Sheehan struck out 13.

Sheehan walked back out for the sixth inning and I knew his time was short to remain on the mound. A complete game no-hitter wouldn't be in the cards for him.

There are rules to protect young arms and a pitch count is that rule. After he walked the first batter of the sixth inning, Waterford head coach Lucas Beaney walked out to the mound to remove him. Of course, rules permit Sheehan to remain in the game as a fielder and still hit. He just can't pitch.

He could have faced probably one more batter but, at that point, there's still a game to win and rules to obey.

We can moan all we want about such things -- advertising patches on sleeves and pitch counts and pitch clocks -- but there's really nothing we can do about them.

Sadly, strikeouts are great but they also drive up pitch counts. So do walks.

Sheehan walked to right field and crouched down.

He had dominated this game. Incidentally, he was 3-for-4 at the plate with two doubles, a sacrifice fly, and three runs batted in. 

Player of the game, indeed.

Another right-hander, Thomas Flanagan, came on to turn out the lights. With his catcher Kian Gordy, they picked off the runner on first and then Flanagan struck out the next two batters.

The game moved to the seventh. In the booth, Shawn Sailer and I had limited any no-hitter talk. Honestly, I didn't do that to honor superstitions. I just don't get involved in such hype until necessary. I believe I mentioned New Milford's lack of hits in the sixth inning in passing.

Now, with three outs remaining, it was my job to report it. No, I don't believe in the announcer jinx but I knew if New Milford got a hit I'd hear about it.

So be it.

"What would Vin do" always rings in my ears. To that end, I allowed myself a few Scully references in the seventh.

I worked in a mention of "Twenty-nine thousand and a million butterflies," as an homage to Vin's quote in the Sandy Koufax perfect game of 1965. Indeed there weren't 29,000 at Unity Park and that was my point. 

Not wanting to overdo it I stopped there. I knew just saying the butterfly line would make Shawn smile next to me as he steadied himself.

I've called no-hitters. They can be absolutely nerve-wracking. This one wasn't.

New Milford's left field, JJ Wassong, was the last hope after Flanagan struck out the first two batters of the seventh.

I had nothing prepared in my mind to say. Gosh, no preparation?

Hardly. I simply didn't want anything to sound rehearsed. The moment needed to be reported naturally, regardless of what happened.

But, don't fool yourself. Wassong wasn't going down without a fight. While it felt like a strikeout was coming, Wassong kept making contact over an eight-pitch at bat.

Finally, Flanagan dealt and Wassong swung.

"And a line drive to short and it's put away by Matt Shampine," I said, "and Waterford has no-hit New Milford."

My voice was raised but I didn't yell. This wasn't a moment to go over the top. This wasn't about being zany. It was about recognizing the glimpse of history and respecting the efforts of both teams.

Remember, one group of 14-year-olds was just no-hit. There's always the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat to consider, especially where kids are concerned.

But, still, Vin. I thought of his awesome habit of adding the time to such calls for posterity and I decided to stamp it.

I let the moment play out in front of me before speaking.

"They have no-hit New Milford at 10:05 on a Tuesday night, July 11, 2023, and they win this game eight to nothing."

We wrapped up the broadcast and went home.

I came home to edit the broadcast and take it all in.

The broadcast is in the archive.

We'll get right back to business tonight, and so will New Milford, as they play Trumbull in an elimination game at 8 p.m. The winner moves onto the championship round to face ... 

Waterford.

However -- and this is huge -- both champion and runner-up are going to the New England tournament in Rhode Island next week. The drama will be muted just a hair because of that.

As I look back on the call all I can hope is that Shawn and I did our jobs honorably. As this is a blog, and it's mine, it comes off more "about me" than I want it to and that's the last thing I want.

The kids are the stars. 

Always.

We just talk and try to stay out of the way.

And we'll try to do so again tonight.

No-hitter or otherwise.