So while I was out watching VideoCabaret's The Great War (definitely worth seeing), Roy Halladay pitched a perfect game. (For non-baseball fans, it means he only faced the minimum amount of batters in a game. This was the 20th time it's been done in major league baseball history.)
One of my great dreams was to be sitting behind home plate when he threw a no-hitter. I knew it was going to happen one day. And it does and I miss it. Which is hard enough. But what's making this so hard is that he did it for the Phillies, not the Jays. There were so many times he came close while he was pitching for us and I was privileged to see a couple of those. As one person put it on Twitter, "Doc threw a million perfect games for T.O. in my eyes. Tonight he just made it official."
So on an occasion richly deserved, I'm finding it hard to be happy for him. And that totally sucks. It's like losing him all over again. It's as if his time here wasn't important, didn't exist. And why does it matter so much?