Remembering Mark Buehrle's Perfect Game

I was one of the fortunate 23,000 or so fans in attendance at Mark Buehrle's perfect game. The sheer fact that I was a witness to history still seems surreal today. It was so totally amazing and simply a perfect day to watch baseball. I was with my little brother and my dad and the game was apparently some sort of work outing. They were cheap seats, so unsurprisingly we were watching the game from the balcony. My other brother was at home, so we decided to buy him a White Sox pen, and on our way, I unexpectedly received proof that I was at the perfect game. A photographer decided to take a picture of me and my little brother. He gave us a slip of paper with a link to the website. Typically, I would throw away something as seemingly forgettable as that, but I felt that it may be a good idea to save every memento from this baseball game.

Even in the first inning, I was watching intently. My dad bought me and my brother some peanuts, but we never did finish them. I didn't want to miss a second of the action so I just held the peanuts in my hands. Most people go to the game and lounge around and hang out with friends. I was invested. I watched every pitch Buehrle made and every play the White Sox did. When Buehrle went 1-2-3 in the first inning, I surprisingly was expecting a perfect game. I always had this belief that a perfect game really is an inning by inning deal. Getting through the first inning perfect was enough hope for me to believe that there would be a perfect game. But the odds were against me. So far there were only 17 perfect games in about 27000 regular season matchups. I doubted that I would see Buehrle pitch a masterful perfect game, despite his pedigree. Then my day was made when White Sox first baseman Josh Fields hit a grand slam in the second inning. I was telling myself that as long as the White Sox win, this will be a good day. But each inning passed and Buehrle continued his streak. After about five innings, I whispered to my brother that Buehrle was perfect through five innings. Had I told any die hard fan this, he would have punched me square in the face. The first rule of perfect games was you do not talk about the perfect game in the middle of a perfect game. But I neglected this rule, and apparently so did Hawk Harrelson, the boisterous and biased White Sox commentator. But I would not be celebrating on my own for much longer.

By the sixth inning, more and more people realized that Buehrle was pitching a perfect game. More mumbling came from the crowd that Buehrle was perfect. So naturally, when Buehrle went to the mound, more and more of the crowd stood up in support of the southpaw. When the eight inning rolled around, the entire stadium was filled with cheers. Every out was greeted with cheers. Every called ball was greeted with boos. I remember gasping on one foul ball that nearly was safe. When the ump called it foul, I, along with my fellow fans, sighed in relief. But as we know, that wasn't even close to the most stressful moment of the game. That would be the opening batter of the ninth. At this point, I was telling my brother how awesome it would be to get the perfect game. Against the hot hitting Tampa Bay Rays, it would be amazing for contact pitcher Mark Buehrle to defeat a good hitting club in a hitter's park. I then told him that Gabe Kapler, who was up to bat, would probably be the second least worrisome person in the lineup other than backup catcher Michel Hernandez. But Kapler knocked one deep. I watched the ball travel and saw Dewayne Wise watching it too. Then he leapt at the wall, put the mitt on the ball, and then grabbed the loose ball with his free hand. I whooped and hollered along with the crowd. I was amazed at the catch, but it wasn't until later that I realized how spectacular the catch really was. Then he struck out the next batter for out number 26.

Then there was batter number 27 Jason Bartlett, the shortstop for the Rays. He was also a great hitter, and he got Buehrle down at a 2-1 count. Then it happened. Bartlett softly grounded the ball out to Alexei Ramirez, one of the best defensive shortstops in baseball. All he had to do was make a routine throw to first and history would be theirs. He made the throw and the crowd watched the ball intently. Fields, who hit the grand slam in the second inning, caught the ball cleanly and ran towards Buehrle. The entire crowd burst into cheers, myself included. And those peanuts from the first inning? They were still clutched in my hands, as the superstitious person that I am. Everyone shouted "Buehrle! Buehrle!" It didn't matter whether we were still in U.S. Cellular Field or on our way to the parking garage or the CTA Red Line. Buehrle was the hero of the day. Even two years later, I remember that feeling of breathlessness while watching history in the making. Even right now, while I'm writing this, I smile when I think of July 23rd, 2009. The game on tap was my White Sox versus the Tampa Bay Rays pitting Mark Buehrle against Scott Kazmir. 10 years later, people may start to forget the minor details. But no one in attendance at that game will never forget Buehrle and his perfect game, making our perfect day.