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2003-08-16 Midst of the blackout, live from Baltimore, they�re sorting it out on the Yankees station. Middle of the third, though, they�ve got nothing. No ads, no station identification, no chatter, only an open microphone. I stare down at green and brick Camden Yards, floating cheerfully just beneath the 727 holes on the front of my Sony transistor radio. Baleen-like, baseball�s indestructible wires sieve through a sea of particulate sounds�kids, snackers, hawkers, switchers of seats�until there, just there, a small pop, and another pop, and again pop: they�ve caught Pettite�s warm-up throws finding Posada�s mitt. Consolation Site: Right in his hands |