Open Letter to Armando Galarraga: Welcome to our world

Dear Kid,

We hate to see The Man screw yet another innocent in the dank hellhole called Major League Baseball, and tonight, we at IT IS HIGH send our warmest condolences for your perfect game hosing.

But dammit, nobody set fire to the dumpsters for us in 2005, when ump Joe West ripped off Game 5 of the Divisional Playoffs. In the second inning with two outs and two on, everybody in the free world -- everybody with eyes, that is -- saw Mike Mussina strike out Steve Finley on six pitches. Everybody in the world, this is, but Joe West. He called ball three, and then he called ball four.

Next guy hits a fly ball to right-center that coaxes Gary Sheffield and Bubba Crosby into doing an imitation of two amoebas having sex. Ball drops. Runs score. Game over. Series over.

If West does his job...

We get the call, we win the game, we take the White Sox with momentum, roll over the Houston Astros in the World Series.

Joe Torre keeps his job. We ignore Kyle Farnsworth in the off-season, then pass on Kei Igawa.

We don't trade for Randy Johnson. We keep Dioneer Navarro. We sign another pitcher, and Chien-Ming Wang doesn't break his foot rounding home, and we have four straight World Championships. Understand? FOUR IN A ROW.

And that - my friend - is a hell of a lot more to lose than a simple game, and what do we get from MLB:  "Tough titty said the kitty with the milk so warm! Oh, and let's shut down your web copyrights, too."

We're sorry, kid. But welcome to our world. Hire a lawyer, find a good accountant and avoid the hotel lobby ladies after midnight. Yesterday won't hurt four years from now. Consider yourself lucky.