Well, we know that MLB doesn’t recognize mix-n’-match hit totals so in the little rouge rubber tip atop the pencilneck Ichiro’s remarkable feat of achieving 4257 hits between his Japanese and American careers will always be an ignis fatuuous. Yours truly, on the other hand, figgers that anyone with Ichiro’s amazing record of two batting titles and a buncha gold gloves, supra-200 hit seasons and lifetime .314 BA (compared to Pete Roses’ .303) would be where he is now if he’d spent his entire career on this side of the San Andreas Fault anyway. So, anata wa watashi no hi-ro- yo, big guy.
For the rest of us, we’re doomed to remain in awe of The Weezard as he keeps on chugging along like the Eveready Bunny in heat. Ichiro squibbed what he called “a five footer” orf Pads starter Luis Perdomo leading orf the first. Catcher Derek Norris scrambled for the ball, tripped over his beard and fell on his ass while throwing slightly wide to first baseman Will Myers, allowing the Weezard to reach first. The San Diego fans applauded enthusiastically, though whether for Norris’ Chaplin routine or Ichiro’s preternatural speed for a 42-year-old is hard to say.
The record-breaking hit that shook the foundations of civilization and tilted the Earth orf its axis came on a crisp line double orf reliever Fernando Rodney. Somewhere near Las Vegas (in spirit if not in geographical fact), the ever-gracious Pete Rose seethed and made snide comments about Japanese baseball, going so far as to suggest that if elected president he would impose a temporarily permanent moratorium on Japanese ballplayers immigrating to MLB, especially Shinto and Buddhist ones. “We can’t have them threatening our most hallowed records,” he mumbled.
Then he noted “Hic! Urrrpppp!”
Incidentally, the Feesh lost, 6-3. Let’s see if the front orifice hasn’t figured out that Justin Nicolino isn’t ready for prime time yet.