Perfection

 

A memorable pitching line

The time was 6:18 p.m. on Tuesday night, April 16, 2024.

Brunswick right-handed pitcher Calder Glassman was set to throw his 91st pitch of the day. The Bruins led St. Luke's 4-0.

Up until 6:18 p.m., Glassman had struck out 12 Storm hitters.

He had walked no one.

He had allowed no hits.

In fact, nobody had reached base against the Notre Dame commit.

He was a strike away from a perfect game.

He was working effortlessly. Efficiently.

And now he was on the verge of something extraordinary.

According to my scorecard, he had thrown 90 pitches.

"Dare I say," I offered, trying to craft words delicately, "you want the ninety-first pitch to be perfect."

It was, except, hold on.

Glassman flirted with a no-hitter last week before allowing an infield single with one out in the sixth inning.

Today, I watched his stuff and, honestly, after an inning, I thought he looked nasty. The Bruins were handling any ball hit their way and Glassman was racking up the strikeouts.

But these things don't happen without drama. At one point, with the bases empty, he got called for an illegal pitch. Even after the game, nobody could quite explain what the umpires were thinking.

Still, in the sixth, Glassman went to a three-ball count, which he only did three times in the game. But, in this case, the pitch was ball four.

Except...

The first base umpire saw a checked swing that went too far. Strike two. Full count. Glassman finished the hitter off seconds later on a liner to short.

Around the field, some fans knew what was going on. Others didn't.

But I watched the outs pile up. On the air, I don't get into the no-hitter/perfect game talk until after six innings. In high school baseball, that only leaves the seventh inning.

I mentioned Calder had retired eighteen straight after six. The score was only 1-0. The drama was magnificent.

Except...

The Bruins scored three in the bottom of the sixth to feel more confident about the game. The tension changed from win and loss to Glassman's perfecto.

It was so tempting to echo Vin Scully in the moment and for sure there were tips of the microphone to the maestro. As Glassman took the mound, I mentioned "the toughest walk of his life," a reference to what Vin said as Sandy Koufax walked to the hill in 1965.

Then I dropped in a few time checks and mentions of the date. At times, I gave a hint of extra detail, such as Glassman pulling at the brim of his cap. Those are lessons learned from Scully.

Beyond that, it had to be my call.

I've called no-hitters. But this was different and I knew anything that could be construed as "jinxing" Glassman would be held against me. But I still have a job to do, regardless of superstitions. I was cautious but still mentioned "perfect game" when I mentioned Koufax in the seventh.

I mentioned counting the outs and how close he was to something he would never forget.

He struck out the first two batters of the seventh. One to go.

But he battled with Nate Kesselmark, the number three hitter in the Storm lineup. Kesselmark struck out on a three-two pitch back in the first. He struck out again in the fourth.

Now, it was three and two and he fouled off a pitch.

One more time. Pitch number 91.

I could feel myself leaning over the fence in right field as I strained to get the best view possible.

The payoff pitch was served to second base. Jayden Montanez went to his right but, at least from my view, it looked like the ball had a little extra spin on it.

Was this going to be an error? The perfect game would be gone but a no-hitter would still be possible.

Except...

Montanez did what every player is ever taught: stay with the ball. He did.

He recovered, picked it up, and threw it to first where Michael Yeager was playing.

Kesselmark was flying down the line as the ball reached Yeager's glove. He ran past first, and threw his arms open, hoping for what he thought would be a safe call.

Except...

The first base umpire was right there and he had a different view.

Out.

It was a perfect game.

I wish I was a fountain of history for Brunswick. Was this the first perfect game in team history? Hard to say though I suspect it isn't.

Glassman knew what had happened. Clearly, his teammates did as well. They mobbed him off the mound, in a dogpile of euphoria that lasted only seconds before they had to go shake hands with the disappointed Storm. Sportsmanship should always prevail.

One thing I do know about this perfect game was that it was my first. I've never called one.

I can't say I'm happy with the final out call but does it matter? I did stumble as the ball got to Montanez. But did I report it accurately and give it excitement? Yes, and yes. 

I might have yelled too much. I'll let Mike Hirn be the judge.

Will Calder be happy with the call? Will his teammates enjoy it? Will families enjoy it? Did the viewers like it? I hope so.

"Calder Glassman has pitched a perfect game at 6:18 p.m. on Tuesday night, April the 16th, 2024. Bruins win 4-0," I said.

It will have to do.

The time check was a reminder from Vin Scully to put that on the call so that Calder would have it forever, just as he did for Sandy Koufax.

I went to find Calder after the game to congratulate him and tell him what a thrill it was. He said he couldn't wait to watch it. I also talked to a few of his teammates to congratulate him but they were focused on recognizing Calder. To that end, I congratulate all of the Bruins because it takes a team effort to complete a perfect game, with a special nod to catcher Jerry Guzman. Pitcher and catcher have to be on the same page.

They were.

Sports are great. They soothe the soul.

Thanks, Vin, for the lessons.

And thanks, Calder. Congratulations.

You were perfect.