Doc? . . . Doc? . . . Doc!!!

(The Man)

Wow.

It was only day one of the playoffs and I’m already not sure if my body can take anymore excitement. Who needs Cialis when you have Roy Halladay pitching in the postseason?

Seriously, I had to consult a physician because I had an erection that lasted way longer than four hours last night. My memory is a little foggy and I think I passed out at one point from the lack of blood, but I believe it started early afternoon when Cliff Lee was mowing down the Rays lineup and continuing his playoff dominance.

Then Halladay took the mound around 5pm and there was no rest or reprieve in sight for Little Tewks. And I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

I don’t think there are enough superlatives in the English language for me to describe the greatness and terrifying efficiency of Roy’s performance last night. It was like watching him throw a bullpen session to imaginary hitters. Every pitch was exactly where he wanted it and it got to a point during the game that it was surprising to even see a Reds batter make contact with a pitch, let alone hit anything hard.

It was an odd no-hitter because after Reds reliever Travis Wood smoked that ball to rightfield early in the game, there was no defensive play that made you stop and say ‘Wow, that one could be the one that saved the no-hitter.’ It was almost like the outcome was never in doubt. That is what a pitcher who has complete mastery of his craft throws like. It was like watching a video game set on an ‘Easy’ difficulty level.

The only adversity Halladay faced was the moronic ramblings of the idiots calling the game for TBS (they don’t deserve to have their names mentioned in this space). At every opportunity from the fifth inning onward, they couldn’t wait to tell the audience that a no-hitter was in progress.

Really, guys? How about a little decorum and respect for baseball superstition. You never mention a no-hitter in progress. Instead say something like “The Reds still have only had one baserunner, by way of a walk.” Then everyone knows what’s going on, but it’s not mentioned explicitly.

These morons couldn’t wait to talk all about it. The only thing they didn’t do was go down to the bench between innings and whisper it in Halladay’s ear. I hope a fire broke out on their floor of the hotel last night.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out CSzem’s shortcomings on such a historic night. Remember that he was the one, in Tuesday’s podcast, to wonder if Doc would be nervous before his first postseason start. Poor, poor Cszem. If only we could all be that nervous.

I’ve never seen a pitcher with such unblemished command of his entire repertoire of pitches. EVERYTHING was working last night. The movement on his changeup, sinker and slider was nothing short of incredible. The Reds hitters, and these are professionals, looked like lost puppies at the plate. Have you ever seen so many swings and misses in an MLB game before?

I didn’t even sit down for the last two innings of the game, the magnitude of the situation threatened to make my heart stop beating. I think Halladay was the calmest person in the stadium last night. And, I’m not ashamed to admit, but it may have gotten a little dusty in the Tewks household after the last out was made.

It was one of the greatest things I have ever witnessed live on television (it narrowly beats out the Britney/Madonna kiss as the VMAs a few years back).

I can’t wait to see what the good Doctor has in store for his encore.

(Quick postscript: on the last out of the game, when the ball struck the bat in fair territory, isn’t that an automatic out? Or at least a dead ball? There’s no way play can continue after something like that, correct? If anyone knows the answer, let us know in the comments section).