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We did invite Ford over, and we did go through the charade of having him drop by while Shiggie and I weren't at the house, ostensibly to visit his kid sister.
Samantha was at work when Ford came over, and when Ford and Shiggie went upstairs in the mid-afternoon. Maybe it was just as well. Amy and I stayed downstairs, feeling a little like interlopers in our own home.
And we could hear them, a little. That was embarrassing.
"Want to hit the porch?" I asked.
"I'm supposed to be in here, communing with my brother," Amy reminded me.
"Yeah."
"Y'know," Amy said, "all this foolishness is going to make it even more difficult for Shiggie, if he does come out."
"True. He'll be seen as having deliberately deceived the news media. But, for the moment, Samantha's presence has taken the pressure off."
"Maybe the pressure's off Shiggie," Amy said, "but I feel it myself."
"It would be nicer if we could just keep it real, for all of us, that's for sure," I agreed.
Ford, in accordance with our instructions, waved goodbye to Amy, alone on the porch as he left the house mid-afternoon. Samantha still hadn't gotten back from work at the Warehouse, and Amy, Shig and I would be leaving for pre-game warm-ups before she arrived home. Sometimes -- but not always -- Samantha joined us at Camden Yards to watch the games.
The Orioles finished the month of June with a season record of 51-27 -- good enough for first place by two games over You-Know-Who. It was the best three-month record for the Birds in the past decade, and excitement was growing in Baltimore. The team had a rich winning history -- built from their first World Series victory in 1966 through the early 80s -- a long period during which the Birds had been highly competitive, often even dominant.
The year 1966 had been the best one of all. The Orioles won their first pennant and swept the Dodgers, 4-zip, in the World Series.
Best of all, it was a ten-team league that year, and guess who finished dead-last?
Yep. The Yankees.
It just doesn't get any better than that!
But it had been a long time since Baltimore fans had been able to enjoy their club's success this much. We seemed, after a couple of recent seasons of emerging into "pretty decent," to now be on the cusp of becoming true contenders.
Sure, we'd been in first place now for most of the season, but folks in Baltimore had been slow to give credence to that. There had been too many recent mid-season swoons. Too many sad lessons in humility.
Maybe we'd turn out not to be for real this year, either.
But at the three-day mid-July All-Star break, we were at a nice, round 60-30. Our shortstop, Miggie Tejada, and our young second-year phenom left fielder had both been voted onto the American League all-star team for the game -- to be held in San Francisco.
Shiggie was chosen, too. An all-star rookie pitcher -- although despite his youth, Shiggie wasn't a true "rookie," given his considerable high-level experience in Japan. Like the great Ichiro before him, Shig's "rookie" status just reflected Major League Baseball's somewhat narrow-minded unwillingness to recognize any other country's game as the equal of our own.
Shiggie had a mid-season record of 11-3. He'd started and pitched well in at least four other no-decision games that he could have won, given only minor changes in the circumstances. (The Atlanta rain-delay game -- the one I'd ultimately finished for him and won -- was an example.)
Shiggie's selection to the All-Star roster was a no-brainer.
As Shig's interpreter, Amy was slated to make the trip to San Francisco with him and the other Oriole all stars.
As the long-reliever with a record of 1-2 with five "holds," I wasn't going anywhere -- at least not at the team's expense. I wonder which relief pitcher led the American League in "holds"?
Nobody cared. Hell, even I didn't care!
I flirted with the idea of accompanying Amy to San Francisco, but we both thought maybe I should hang in Baltimore, just to keep our little romance a bit less public. But then I suggested that perhaps she ought to invite Samantha along.
Samantha could share Amy's room on the road, and Samantha would likely enjoy seeing the City on the (Other) Bay. Her presence at the players' hotel would do wonders for the continuing story of the supposed romance of the "good friends." Lots of All-Stars took their families to the game. Why not Shiggie?
"You're really a manipulative creature," Amy observed when I made my suggestion. "but it's not a bad idea. And Sam and I could have fun out there!"
"Don't call her 'Sam, ' I said. I am Sam! She's Samantha, and if you start shortening her name, it'll be terminally confusing to live in this house."
"It's weird, living here, even under the best of circumstances," Amy said.
I was looking forward to three days without a bullpen to sit in. Selection to the All-Star team was a huge honor, and, in baseball, the actual game is a bigger event, and a bigger charge for the guys who play in it, than it seems to be in other major sports.
But my all-star days -- if any -- were in the future. For now, give me three days of leisure to break up the long, long season, and I'll be grateful for my own mediocrity.
Samantha's trip to San Francisco also meant that I'd have the Big House all to myself for the duration. To celebrate, I hit the local Circuit City and sprung for a 48-inch flat-screen Sony.
I intended to watch the game in style.
The American League lost the all-star game, 5-2, but Shiggie pitched for two innings and while he was in there, the National League didn't even get a smell. This positive exposure was going to do a lot for Shig's career. Baltimore's a medium-market baseball town, but our games don't get on national television all that often.
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