Bluefish Finish Season with Loss to Pride
Published on September 19, 2003 under Atlantic League (AtL)
Bridgeport Bluefish News Release
Folks are calling it the greatest game in "Historic Holman Stadium history", and the "Greatest Game in Atlantic League history". Maybe it's just the competitor in me, but I'm not especially enamored of great games where my team loses, especially in the incredible manner that we did. But I have to admit that it was one of the most memorable games that I have ever experienced.
Two outs in the ninth, one-run lead, the best closer in league history on the mound, firing bullets, a .267 number nine hitter at bat, with a .241 hitter on deck who has one home run to his credit and is 0 for 8 in the playoff series. The closer, Mike Guilfoyle, hasn't lost since July, hasn't hit a batter, or surrendered a home run all season. He has two strikes on the number nine hitter, Chris Peterson, a 1-2 count and he fires a fastball maybe an inch off the outside corner that easily could have been a called strike three. Then he throws a slow, looping curve ball that freezes the hitter, but drifts too far inside and nicks him, the first hit batsman all year for Guilfoyle. The next hitter, James Lofton, steps in, determined to end the game on the first pitch, but can't catch up with a Guilfoyle heater. The next pitch is also a heater, down low in the strike zone, and Lofton again waves at it. Then, the wholly improbable event occurs, another looping curve ball that hangs in Lofton's wheelhouse, and he lofts it over the left-centerfield fence.
Years from now, fans, players, umpires, league officials, and front office staff from both teams will describe the pandemonium which ensues. For me, I was never so stunned at a sporting event my whole life, either as a participant or as a spectator. I was actually too shocked to do anything but stumble around the ballpark for several minutes, as our players sat in the dugout or laid down in the field in complete dismay. I then had a 160-mile drive home into the wee hours of the morning. I probably should not have been behind the wheel, even though I was stone-cold sober. At least 1,000 times, both during the drive and during the sleepless hours that followed at home, I saw those fateful pitches winging toward both Peterson and Lofton, except in my mind's eye, I kept trying to will them to be "Strike Threes", as they have been all season for our brilliant "lights-out" closer. It's a nightmare I will probably have repeatedly for months and even years to come.
We had come up to this House Of Horrors (Holman Stadium) determined to avoid our fate of three years ago when we lost Games Two and Three of the playoffs, and we were, to a man, determined to avoid a similar fate. In both games we built a 4-run lead into the sixth inning which is practically "light-up-a-cigar" time for our bullpen. Lightning struck in Game Two and Nashua's spectacular six-run comeback in the sixth and seventh did us in. But it was Game Three that we'll always remember. Two of our Big Three power hitters (Jose Offerman and Oreste Marrero) had been struck down with injuries in the first two games.
We were outmanned, but, playing in a hostile environment, we had a collective determination to win this game that was palpable to every person who watched or listened to this game. Down 2-0 early, we fought back to take a 6-2 lead, then after a grand slam home run that scored two walks and a hit batsman ahead of it to knot the score at 6, we produced the go-ahead run the hard way with a walk, a sacrifice and a two-out base hit by our MVP candidate, Rolo Avila. We then set down eight straight Pride batters form the seventh to the ninth, including their Murderers' Row of D.J. Boston, Glenn Murray, Melvin Nieves and Damien Sapp. Setup man Bobby Chouinard pitched brilliantly after surrendering that grand slammer to Joe Kilburg. And Guilfoyle certainly dispensed with Kilburg and Bluefish nemesis Pork Chop Pough in the fateful ninth before he went up against Peterson and Lofton.
The game was a game for the ages featuring acrobatic fielding plays (Angel Espada was unconscionably good), clutch hitting (Hector Kuilan, Cesar Devarez, Willis Otanez, Rolo Avila), and enough action-packed drama for a whole season jammed into three hours and ten minutes of riveting excitement. That said, you'll never convince me that the best team won, or that destiny or fate was necessarily or their side (we even had ministers here in Bridgeport openly praying for our team). I congratulate the Nashua Pride on their hard-earned Northern Division Atlantic League Championship, and I wish them and their opponent, the Somerset Patriots, well in the Championship Series starting this evening in Bridgewater, NJ. But my heart will always be with the team that Charlie Dowd and Chico Lind put together this season.
It was a special team when we broke camp in Spring Training, and it became even more special in the second half when Charlie went out and signed Kevin Henthorne and Will Pennyfeather, and we got Tony Mota back from an Opening Day injury, and we reached "full potential" with that marvelous 20-3 winning stretch that propelled us into the second half championship of the Northern Division. Gentleman Brad Cornett was the consummate ace of the staff, Masaru Imazeki had the heart of a lion, and T. J. Mathews and Tim Cain (with Henthorne) rounded out a starting rotation that was the envy of the league. Tony "T-Rod" Rodriguez may not have hit for average, but he was one of those clutch veterans who battled the whole season for us. Jose Amado, Angel Espada and Rolo Avila were our impressive .300 hitters, and what a contribution we got from our former Major League All-Star Jose Offerman. Willis Otanez was our big power threat, and throughout the season we got clutch performances from literally the entire team.
This wasn't a league championship team, in fact, but it was, and is a team of champions that was every bit as special as that championship team of 1999. They done Bridgeport proud. And we will be back in seven months to have another go at it at the Ballpark at Harbor Yard. We're going to get that Atlantic League trophy back here again. Our fans deserve it and Bridgeport, CT deserves it!
Mickey Herbert
Atlantic League Stories from September 19, 2003
- Patriots Pound Pride to Take Game One of Championship Series - Somerset Patriots
- Bluefish Finish Season with Loss to Pride - Bridgeport Bluefish
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