My wife won tickets to the 6/12 Tigers vs. Brewers game tonight, and of course she took me. She hasn't been feeling well all week but we went to the game anyway, knowing that we'd leave after the 6th inning so she could get home and rest - they were free tickets so who cares. As you know by now, Justin Verlander had a no-hitter going through the 6th inning, around 8:30pm, and she really wanted to leave. Knowing the "if-a-pitcher-has-a-no-hitter-going-don't-mention-it" jinx, I suggested that we stay by dancing around the actual words, but, not being completely insane, she had no idea what the mysterious reason was that I had to stay. She offered for me to ride home with some friends at the game, but I knew if I did that the no-hitter would be blown, creating an awkward situation with my friends and at home. I got to hear the end of the game on the radio in the car ride home, along with "6th time in 107 years" and "first time since 1952."
Congrats, Justin, you owe me one. By virtue of me preserving sport's most hallowed superstition, I allowed the No-Hitter (it feels good to say it!) to happen...
