[I've said, here, so often that I believe that Buck Showalter has no equal as a big league manager. There are competitors: Jim Leyland, Dusty Baker, Ron Washington, Davey Johnson and Tampa's Joe Madden. But nobody is quite equal to Buck. That being said, I was saddened when Miguel Gonzalez, the wonderful and dependable Oriole starter yesterday, was left in to pitch to Will Middlebrook in the seventh inning. I believe Miguel Gonzalez is the Orioles's best starter, but there is a wall for Miguel and it stands in inning no. 7. In innings one to six the powerful Sox had no runs. In the seventh, they put two men on. The Orioles were ahead, 5-0. Only a home run with two or more men on base would endanger that bulge. It was the seventh inning (I know I keep coming back to that.) I know that Buck was thinking about it being about the end of the line for Miguel, because right after the three-run homer that Middlebrooks hit (it was his 8th, and rbi's 26, 27 and 28), Buck yanked him.]
Anyway, back at Tratoria Germano, in that quiet first floor dining room occupied by my family, another large table was now filling up. A lot of these lately arriving diners were adorned by the latest Red Sox attire. They whole bunch sat down. They didn't talk. They didn't whisper. They stared. Then, almost in unison, they all looked down. Then, after a bit, a perky waitress arrived with their menus. I knew then that the Orioles had held on. Boston came to town with a 3 and one-half game lead on the Orioles. They left town with a one and one-half game lead. They had lost a four game series to the young and still very hungry Orioles, 3-1.
My dad, now 87, my family, including my wife, my 14-year-old (the other two were working), and my mother, Little Italy, The Orioles closing in. Father's Day done beautifully.
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