The Galarraga game, from the other side: 'You kind of want to see it happen'
Tony Paul
Detroit — Nobody wants to be on the wrong end of a perfect game, or even a no-hitter. But everyone wants to see history.
Those two countering thoughts were on a collision course in Manny Acta's mind that night 10 years ago, as Armando Galarraga was retiring one of his Cleveland Indians after another, with alarming ease, the Tigers right-hander on his way to a historic pitching performance.
"That's such a rare feat. We all want to win ballgames," Acta, the Indians manager at the time and now the Seattle Mariners bench coach, said this week from his home in St. Petersburg, Florida. "But once a pitcher gets into the ninth inning, even being in the other dugout, you kind of want to see it happen and be a part of it — unless it's a 1-0 ballgame and your'e a bloop and a blast and we win this ballgame.
"It's a really weird feeling. Nobody wants to be on that end of it, but you also want to see it get done."
The truth was, Acta had a young, rebuilding team — he actually did in both his managerial stints, first with the Washington Nationals, then Cleveland — and the Indians star player, Grady Sizemore, was hurt. Their record was bad, their postseason prospects were a pipe dream.
That's why he didn't pinch-hit for anybody in the ninth inning. Mark Grudzielanek was a veteran, in his last year in the majors. He hit the ball that Austin Jackson amazingly raced down in left-center. Mike Redmond was another graybeard, in his last season. He grounded out weakly to short. Then there was Jason Donald, 15 games into his major-league career. Acta left him in, because with a young team, you don't want to be pinch-hitting all the time, and run the risk of shattering a kid's confidence.
That decision led to Donald forever being remembered as the guy who was out at first, but called safe by Jim Joyce, and thus denying Galarraga his rightful perfect game.
Acta and Galarraga actually first met back in 2000, in Venezuela, and then ended up working together in the Montreal Expos system in 2002.
And all these years later, here was Galarraga, en route to history (albeit not the kind anyone in the park that night envisioned), and Acta on the other end of it, in the visitor's dugout.
That night, after the game in the visiting manager's office, Acta played it like any manager should. He was disappointed the team lost the ballgame; he actually lamented a call Joyce made that went against him the previous inning. As for Joyce's call in the ninth, meh, mistakes happen. Acta, that night, didn't seem at all emotionally invested in the magnitude of what had just transpired.
Ten years later, he's much more forthcoming about his true feelings. He now says he would've been fine with it if the umpires had gotten together and overturned the call on the field, but no way can Major League Baseball ever change it now. That's just not realistic. It would open up a can of worms, he said.
"It was kind of bittersweet, because I always liked him (Galarraga), and he's on the other side," Acta said. "I knew him, and on that side of the equation, there was the sentimental aspect of it.
"It was certainly a day to remember.
"Time sure flies."
tpaul@detroitnews.com
Twitter: @tonypaul1984