Doc's El-Perfecto

"If you're not first, you're last." I recently read that quote somewhere on the blogosphere. I hadn't heard it before, but let me quote it for truth.

I've barely been blogging at all because of working an extra job this year (yes, to support my baseball habit.) Even though I rarely miss a game either on TV, the radio, or at the ball park; I'm always way behind by the time I get some computer time. I won't post unless I really feel like venting or I come up with an amusing story or photo to share.

Anyhoo: like our globetrotting friend Eyebleaf from Sports and the City, it took me a good two days to let Roy Halladay's perfect game sink in. Navin's latest edition of "Stealing Home" over at the Globe sums up my feelings nicely.

I was hung over after being in my best friend's wedding the day before. (I might add, we walked into the venue, just about to walk down the aisle, and I saw the high-fives of the end of the Jays game on the bar television. The timing was nice.) I was hung over, and I had gone to bed with eye makeup on. Yes, THAT'S what made me shed a tear when I saw the highlight videos of Halladay's performance.

I guess I can put that charade to bed - I'm not the only one who felt both elated and bereft.

When my associate and I headed down to spring training back in March, we hoped we'd get a chance to see Halladay pitch... and we did, against the Yankees in Clearwater. We said our goodbyes. It sunk in... or so I thought. Sunday morning, I felt like an ex that dumped me six months ago just married someone else.

How nice would it have been now, for Doc to return to Toronto for a welcome back love-in?