Roy Halladay Time Capsule: Where Were You and What Were You Doing the Night He Threw His Playoff No-Hitter?

Doing geophysics homework and watching the game at the same time. Not really a successful endeavor – I didn’t get much work done. When the final out was made, I ran screaming up and down the hallway of my floor. No one else was excited – that’s what I get for going to Maryland. An incredible, incredible game. Go Phils!

Then in ten years we’ll test you to see if you invented any false memories.
http://ajp.psychiatryonline.org/cgi/content/abstract/153/5/618

I was in my living room, unable to leave my position seated on the floor for 4 innings for fear of “disturbing the momentum”. Husband sat in a chair doing the same. Son was upstairs watching “Beauty and the Beast,” because he couldn’t sit still for the game. I was watching my own version of that movie, with Roy playing both the parts of Beauty and the Beast.

eating lettuce wraps drinking stella artois at changs while hitting on a cute indian chic.

I can only attempt to describe how lucky I feel that I was actually there at Citizen’s Bank Park to witness this event in person. As some of you know, I work for the Phillies (as a “Phanstormer”) and had already clocked out and was watching in the standing room of section 206.

Around the 7th inning, a number of fellow Phanstormers (there were six of us together) huddled with me in the wind, where we howled like wolves for all of the final 9 outs.

To me, it WAS surreal— the sounds were deafening, the pure communitas of emotion expressed all at once by over 46,000 people was beyond anything any of us knew. Shapes changed, reality bent. And, I think, part of the surreality was the result of just watching an athlete as skilled as Roy Halladay actually transcend the limits of humanity for an extended and intense moment in time.

And all of this ecstasy was heightened further by the simultaneous awareness by everyone in attendance that they were experiencing one of the greatest moments in their lives.

It really really was something. Roy Halladay is many things, perhaps he even takes the form of an oracle when we think back to his prophetic words, “It’s only gonna get funner”.

It was a mythic night and I will never forget it.

GO PHILS!!

I was out for dinner at Morimoto celebrating my 8th anniversary. I guess the final out came right when we were eating our entrees. BUT, I had no clue it was happening, as I had carefully ensconced myself to avoid finding out anything about the game. I had watched the first 5 innings before going out for dinner, then I let TiVo take over. It never fails me, and it didn’t fail me this time. We walked through Center City to get home and I avoided running into anything that gave me any hint what was going on.

We got home around 9:30 and I camped out in front of the TV watching the last four innings. I must say, I fast-forwarded through the Phillies’ at-bats to get to Roy pitching. And, just like the perfect game, I called my wife in to watch the last out so she could witness the history (actually, with the perfect game, she watched the last three outs with me).

Even though I watched it about 2 hours after it really happened, it was really happening at that moment for me, and it was amazing to see.

I had called my wife and asked her to pause the game on our DVR, so that I could come home from work and and pick it up somewhere around the 2nd inning. Unfortunately, when my DVR has been paused too long it reverts right back to live TV, so by the time I got home I found the game playing on my TV and it was already the 5th inning. Since I had already seen the score, there was no sense in rewinding.

Anyway, I didn’t even realize he had a no-no going until the announcer made a comment that the Reds relief pitcher (can’t recall his name) was the closest batter all night to getting a hit off of Halladay. That was in the 6th, I believe.

Sometime around the 7th inning, text messages started rolling in. I chose to only read those where I was 100% confident they wouldn’t make mention of the no-hitter. My thinking was, “If I don’t read this message, then the no-hitter can’t be jinxed.” I read only those messages that were from friends that knew not to speak of the no-no.

I made my wife watch the 8th and 9th innings with me, telling her that something big was going down, but I couldn’t explain what exactly, in fear that I might be the cause of some BS humpback liner that fell in. She stood with me in front of the TV for the 9th, not totally understanding what was going on but intrigued by how fired up the fans were (great job by her to stand and watch the final outs with her ridiculously idiotic/superstitious husband).

After Chooch threw Phillips out at home, I went out and played with my dog in the yard for about an hour. This is rare, mind you. I wake up for work every day at 5am, and don’t typically get home until almost 7pm. I simply don’t have the energy to play with a 10-month old puppy for an hour when I get home. Kind of boring, but yeah, I’ll probably never forget that.

late coming home, worked on a presentation that I had to deliver first thing this morning. By the time I got home Phils were up 4-0 but I caught the 2nd inning on the radio. The little WLs were having a pitched battle with their mother over eating chicken. No chicken, no desserts. Can we have fruit? Yes. Bananas or an apple. Can we have peanut butter with the apple? No. I’m hungry. Then eat your chicken. I’m not hungry. Then go to bed & suchlike. Meanwhile I’m cramming a sammich down my gullet and drinking a Fleur de Lehigh. Mrs. WL retreats to bedroom sanctuary for sanity. I set up playoff formation: radio on, TV muted, Carlton jersey on, laptop up and game chattering. Joined the second thread. The small WLs are literally climbing on my back. By 8th inning I am literally in the middle of the sofa physically separating little WLs, saying, “WATCH THIS. NO ONE TALKS. DON’T INTERRUPT. THIS IS HISTORY” It was as Archie Bunker as I get.

No hitter achieved, boys exhausted and whiny, off to bedtime. Aaaaaaaand. scene.

I was racing home from work desperately trying to get home to catch the 9th inning. Sadly I was thwarted by an endless throng of Sunday drivers and the game ended with me 2 blocks away from my house.

I was in the College Park AMF Bowling Lanes standing in front of one of their lovely LCD TV’s with crappy TBS HD around my father, mother, brother, and teammates. Once Chooch threw the ball on his knees to first, we had a family group hug, and I think my brother bruised my shoulder, but I still threw strikes – just like Doc.

I went straight from practice to a pre-marriage class with my fiancé. On the way caught about 1.5 innings on the radio. We found it happened while in the class and after we left, she asked what I was thinking. I said, “I’m thinking I can’t believe we just missed a phillies no-hitter in the playoffs for pre-cana” class. Unbelievable.

I was nervous as hell, pacing around the room not really believing what I was watching. Disgusted with myself for TURNING DOWN tickets. A coworker that happened to be on vacation this week got tickets Tuesday afternoon. I said no because of the 5:00 start – would have been pushing making game. Well that will never happen again. Work isn’t that important.
Friend ended up taking his wife. I can’t believe I said no. I guess the only good thing about not going was that I watched it with my future wife and stepdaughter.
Game was amazing to watch. Roy Halladay is well on his way to reaching Legend status in Philly sports history.
Imagine what we could do if we only had Cliff Lee…………But I can’t wait to watch Roy Oswalt tomorrow. Go Phils!!

I like and have rooted for the Phillies in the postseason for the past three years.

Best of luck this postseason! Go Phillies!

crying, screaming, hugging and high-fiving my husband…and pretty much everybody in the area. The most amazing game EVER!

I skipped rugby practice to stay and watch the game with some friends. Made dinner and all that, but I really made the effort not to move from the sofa when I realized he had no hits through about four innings. While I didn’t say to myself “he’s going to throw a no-hitter, I better stay here”, watching Doc is magical as hell regardless of the circumstances.

After missing out on his perfecto, I’m beyond happy that I got to watch this one, start to spectacular finish. After Chooch made the throw I immediately got on my phone and called my parents back home. My dad was almost crying and told me that this is what watching Steve Carlton was like, and that we’re so lucky to be able to call Doc a Phillie. We both were silent on the phone for a few seconds before we both just started laughing. It was just unbelievable, what we had just watched.

A totally awesome feeling. Can’t even describe it.

I was cramming for the LSATs, or at least trying to.

A guy in the front row of our section made a bold move. He stood up to acknowledge the section and prognosticate. It was the middle of the 6th inning after Phillips flied out. He turned around and bursted out “I’m calling it!” Needless to say there was quite a bit of groaning from the rest of the fans in the section. A couple "WTF"s rained down.

He called it.

Unfortunately my work shift started at 5-I was highly disappointed by the start time. But luckily my manager is a Phils fan so we set up the radio I had brought from home. The store wasn’t busy at all so I was able to listen to almost every pitch Roy threw. For the 9th inning we put the radio on full blast so everyone in the restaurant could hear. It was an awesome time sharing history with the customers and coworkers. Also, I thought the national guys on 97.5 FM-not sure of their names-did a really good job. You could tell they were truly excited and happy to be part of the moment

I was at work but listening via computer through about the sixth. I didn’t want to leave because I didn’t want to miss any of the game, but I knew I’d hate myself if I didn’t get to actually watch the final inning or so. Ran to my car and drove home superfast, listening to Scott and LA on the way. Made it home for the top of the 8th.

Glorious!

I was in class, learning about the representational politics of photography as it pertains to language and expression vis literature. Needless to say, I had other things on my mind, and found it hard to tune in to what the professor was saying. I had followed the first three innings on my phone, and my wife — who hated baseball lo this time last year — was gloating about watching the game. Two thirds through class, I get two texts: “No hitter Halladay!!!” followed by “First post season no hitter since 1956!!!!”

Needless to say, I gobbled up whatever video I could find when I got home, but the defining moment of the night for me was twofold — a) my wife is officially pretty okay with being into baseball, and b) I wasn’t angry that I missed it, because I was happy that she saw it.

I was fortunate to be at the game with my father. Roy was throwing very good right from the first inning, and got even better (funner) after the first run. The ballpark was electric and the crowd got louder with each inning. We stayed in our seats even when it was raining (glad we brought the gortex and plastic cover). Great plays by Werth, J-Roll, Utley, Shane, and Valdez. .By the 9th everyone was on their feet screaming and waving the rally towels (BTW the human ralley towel was there for a brief second on Phanavision :-P ). Ruiz made that last out and the place went wild. Noone wanted to leave. After the game as we were driving home my dad kept saying “I had never seen a no-no in person.”

On the couch, cold drink to my side, laptop on the coffee table, TGP on the screen, cable box on TBS, watching Roy carving up the Reds, thinking from the 2nd inning Roy might do something special, feeling strangely confident that it was going to happen in the 6th, thinking the 9th was a forgone conclusion after the 8th, yelling and screaming as Chooch finishes it off and plays a prominent role in yet another Phillies highlight.

Its weird. No hitters are extremely rare and damn near extinct in the post-season. But watching Roy I found myself thinking not if the Reds were going to get a hit, but thinking they were so over-matched on this particular day that I couldn’t imagine them actually getting a hit.

Like phatj, I have a wife for whom baseball has no meaning, and for whom my love of the game is something of an irritation. We got home (I picked her up at the train station) about the time the game started, and I turned on the laptop (TV not being an option).

We made dinner, had our drinks, had dinner, watched “The Guys” (the 7 pm repeats of Stewart and Colbert). In between, I would get up to put away a dish or something, and sneak a peak at the laptop (muted MLB.TV and TGP in separate tabs). So I tracked the NH as it unfolded, but only in small bits at a time.

Had the game started at regular game times, I could have seen the last half of it. But after work is “our time.”

I was sitting at my kitchen table with a salesman from a siding company! My laptop was nearby, so I occasionally checked in to see if the no-no was still going on.

Eating pork lo mein and thinking about the Philadelphia A"s.

I am unemployed so there was no rush for me. I walked my 2 and 3 year olds up to the corner store to get some beers to get back before the first pitch. Then I cracked it open and BS on the game thread. Then stopped commenting to just watch the game with my girls. My daughter kept asking is it good to have our guy not let them hit. I told her he is the best and that is what the best do.
 My wife at work called to just flip out at how awsome it was getting to see the final inning. I then put the kids to bed and got trashed.

at work, pretending to do work, for the last 3-4 innings. Luckily since I run a department, I can get away with pretending to work every now and then….but I have a feeling that all of my co-workers would understand anyway.

I texted my father-in-law afterwards. He knew about the win, but had no idea what transpired. He thought the game began at 8, so he missed the magic. Suffice to say, his mind was blown.

I was sitting on my couch trying to study for my American Studies 435: A history of Organized labor midterm. Did not get much studying done.

She did not understand why I NEEDED to go to a sports bar to watch this game. Women!

for a great read. Keep wandering down [Skip] MEMBRY LANE [Clayton]!

I was at work when the game started, so the first two innings came to me via my news alert e-mails. The third, fourth, and fifth innings were brought to me via radio while I was picking my daughter up from band practice and a quick run for dinner groceries.

The sixth inning was “watched” as I ran between the kitchen and the TV room in the basement, keeping an eye on dinner and the game (just my daughter and I for dinner last night).

The seventh inning, I watched the top half of the inning, and missed the bottom half getting dinner finished and served up.

Finally, the last two innings were enjoyed with dinner on the TV tray, and TBS on the TV (I am so glad my wife was okay with the 42" LCD purchase over the summer).

Congrats, Doc! Is this what you meant by “funner”?

I was at my frat watching the game while working on revising a paper. I got there in time for Halladay’s RBI and except for the 5th and 6th innings (when I got dinner) I didn’t move from the TV. The gravity of the situation (a no-hitter in the playoffs!) didn’t hit me until there was one strike left.

I still can’t believe it.

Chillin on my couch eating a Primo’s Italian Diablo and Herr’s crab chips (God’s gift to man). I didn’t move for the entire game. Not because I’m superstitious, but because I was so transfixed by what was happening on the screen. It was like watching poetry. This was like seeing Sonny Rollins in concert or Pacino in the Godfather. I can honestly say it ranks among the best “performances” of any kind that I have ever seen. A virtuoso performance by a master of his craft.

I was watching the game in my apartment completely transfixed by Roy Halladay’s awesomeness. Around the time Halladay got his single, my campus internet died, which sucked not only because I was chatting on here and on some other forums, but because I needed the internet to do some homework later that night. While at this point in time, the fact that Roy had a no-no going was a mere bemusement and not something to be taken quite seriously yet, I run up to my apartment’s community building and ask what is going on with the internet. Just to play it safe, I made sure to get up as the Phillies were batting against Travis Wood. Naturally, the community building knew nothing of the problems. I get back 7 or so minutes later, and Halladay is just taking the mound to start the next inning (I wanna say top of the 4th, but I can’t say for sure). Still no internet. I lay on my bed for the next 35 minutes, still transfixed by Roy’s awesomeness. I try the internet again, and low and behold, they fixed the problem! The next hour and a half or however long it was from that moment to the end of the game was nothing but pure magic. I wanted to do some research on post-season no-hitters (I knew Larsen was the only perfecto, but I did not know about general no-hitters) though fearful that any research I did would jinx it (someone asked the question and WC answered; my thanks for that). It truly was one of the all time great moments in Philadelphia sports and something that I will never forget

With my 8 y/o, listening to the radio in front of the wood stove, being thankful for the early start.

On the couch with my husband, eating cookie dough ice cream, eyes glued to the tv. I couldn’t be here with you guys, due to my laptop being dead, but here in spirit.

We literally didn’t move the entire time. Just hypnotized. When Roy got his hit, we went nuts. When the last out was made, I started jumping up and down as my husband was yelling and clapping.

“I am so happy,” I said finally. “We both are.” said my husband. Then he ran off and found his autographed picture of Larson and Berra.

I’m grateful that I got to witness this with my husband. It was just awesome. After the game, my father in law called and I picked up. I just yelled into the phone and he remarked how surprised he was that I still had a voice. He thinks it’s cool that his daughter in law cares about baseball.

Thanks for the memories, Roy!

As others have already said, it was amazing, magical, euphoric and other superlatives that fall short of accurate description.

The fans were amazing. Everyone understood what was going on and felt it from fairly early on – earlier, in fact, than would seem reasonable under normal circumstance. But these circumstances were anything but normal, and the whole ballpark knew it. Each of the last four innings each became exponentially louder than the one before it. Every time the last Phils hitter was put out, the ambient noise level of the crowd would build – from a cacophony of individual cheers, screams and misdirected woo – to a deafening chorus of “Let’s go, Doc” (punctuated – welcomingly – by the occasional, “Sit your bitch-ass down, Rolen!”) before ending in a primal crescendo of approval, praise and celebration.

What wasn’t even confirmed until hours afterward in the parking lot- as no one would outright discuss it during – was that my friends were doing the same thing I was: Constantly reminding ourselves to savor this… take in every moment and try to brand it in permanent memory as much as is humanly possible and above all – appreciate it.

That was the most amazing part. Halladay was so dominant, there wasn’t even the terrified tenseness normally present. It was tense, make no mistake. Nothing’s ever a given. But I was more on edge watching the perfect game back in May (Sorry, I just have to pause and reflect on that sentence… Jesus….). He was just SO good on Wednesday night that once Scotty was handed his Sombrero, it was almost as if the final 6 outs were irrelevant and it was Game Over. Done deal. Foregone conclusion. Fait Accompli.

And we all knew it.

XM spent most of Thursday replaying the Phillies broadcast of the game on a loop (which I’m very appreciative of, since I obviously had only been able to hear Franzke’s call of the final 3 outs on highlight reels), and LA said something that made me laugh as I’d made the same observation at the game: I’ve never heard a louder round of applause at the Bank after the Phils had just been retired 1-2-3 in the bottom of the 8th.

While the singular, instantaneous explosion of sublime joy didn’t quite ever match Game 5 of the series in ‘08 or the end of game 4 in the ’09 NLCS, the overall 9-inning-long shared feelings of camaraderie, appreciation, and happiness of 46,411 phriends experiencing history as it unfolded were almost enough to rival both… and an unforgettable, intensely moving experience in its own right that we’ll certainly never forget, but also one whose significance we more than likely won’t even fully comprehend until years down the road.

PS – Get a better writer to take a pass at that, multiply the sentiment a few times, then write a Homerian poem about it and it might come close to capturing half of the experience.

I’m very glad they built a Chickie’s right in my town (woot Bensalem!), and the new one is really nice and has a great atmosphere. It wasn’t super crowded so I was able to get a seat at the bar then a table when my friends met me there after work. I was enjoying a delicious roast pork sandwich and some awesome crab fries. It was funny too cuz I missed the walk to Bruce as I was perusing the menu, so from what I saw he actually got a perfect game hahaha. The place of course went nuts when Halladay finished it off, capping a great end to an awesome evening of food, fun, friends, and baseball. Thank you Roy for letting me witness history.

I was sitting in my apartment in china waking up at 5am on my day off Streaming the game online and afterward caliing my dad on skype going CLIFF LEE WHO!

how do I say this on a familyesqish blog — avoiding certain advances by my fiancee. I’ve never been one to put sports watching before that other fun stuff, but this was history in the making.