Greatest Game?

Tuesday's (and partly Wednesday's) Game 3 of the World Series between the Houston Astros and the Chicago White Sox was -- and pay attention, because this is where it gets crazy -- not a classic.
History will probably try to prove me wrong, or at the very least, sportswriters nationwide will attempt to do so this morning and well into the autumn.
And frankly, they've all got the numbers on their side.After all, there:
-- Was more than 5 hours of October baseball this night.-- Were some 400-plus pitches thrown.
-- Were thousands of finger nails bitten in just one section of the Juice Box (I think Fox provided us with close-ups of nearly each offense, and at least one nostril digging by a face-painted fan).
-- Were countless promos for "The Simpsons," "House," "Lost" and even the fast-approaching JANUARY season premiere of "American Idol," of which Simon Cowell called America's other favorite pasttime. Funny.
-- Were two stunning comebacks -- one on a top-of-the-fifth-inning meltdown by Roy Oswalt, the other in crunch time in the bottom of the eighth.
-- Was one Tim McCarver providing us with the bright wisdom that was, "In the time it took to play this game, you could have flown from Baltimore to Iceland." Really.
But none of that -- nor even the "home run" or double by Jason Lane, who Houston manager Phil Garner correctly pointed out was the only guy in the ballpark with a star on his hat who hit the ball harder than anything you might expect from the ninth hitter in Williamsport -- can convice me this was great baseball.
In fact, it was anything but.
Sure, it had classic moments.
Geoff Blum's homer down the line in right with two out in the 14th inning was a gem and will be remembered for decades to come (though, c'mon, it was hardly Gibson-eque). Just moments earlier, Morgan Ensberg's ridiculously dazzling double play was just as sweet.
But just about everything else -- from opening pitch to the final pop out -- hovered around mediocrity.
Houston had chance after chance to win this game and get back into this intriguing Fall Classic. Runners at the corners with one out in the bottom of the ninth immediately comes to mind. And there were others, though after 330 minutes you tend to struggle in recalling every last one.Yet the Astros -- as they likely will do again tonight -- walked away with nothing.
More zeros for five more innings.
In fact, the White Sox bullpen darned near through a no-hitter in the second half of this battle, surely an homage to Nolan Ryan, who took in every last pitch before asking his number be unretired.Astro after Astro looked lost at the plate from the eighth inning on, as if this game was a split-squader in Tampa rather than the first World Series game played deep in the broken heart of Texas.
Biggio, the face of this franchise for every 18-year-old Houston High School senior's entire life, whiffed late. Twice. Same with Ensberg, who led off the bottom of the 14th with a let's-get-the-heck-out-of-here at bat.
For decades, the White Sox and Red Sox have proven that World Series aren't -- contrary to popular Yankees' belief -- dealt out with any hint of fairness. It's not a right to play a baseball game before a nation that's about to turn the TV set to Monday Night Football.
Chicago will wake the ghosts of 1917 tonight.
Boston paid homage to 1918 just 12 months ago.
Two of the proudest franchises in this game's history had to wait generations, defying logic, to get their next crack. Heck, even the 1984 Detroit Tigers, who many thought started a dynasty, haven't tasted World Series bubbly since the Bless You Boys soaked it up that fall.
And now, we have the Astros, known more for poorly designed rags of the 1980s than success, who have waited 40-plus to reach their first Grand Daddy of Them All. And as Garner -- who by the looks of that mighty chair toss in the 14th was next in line to hit the mound should Houston have extended the game -- correctly pointed out, these Astros, complete with their Momentum-Killer B's, have shown the mojo of a slinky.
In giving credit where it's most certianly due, these aren't your grandfather's White Sox. (Not that grandpas where white anyway -- mine always wore brown). Given the opportunity to win games, they have taken advantage time and again. From Third Strike -- You're Out, No You're Not -- Gate in the ALCS to the Astros' misfires all Tuesday long, they have turned a break into a quick fix.
And now, thanks to clutch hitting and dynamite pitching and the moxy to make Angelina Jolie blush, they are one out away from the World Series title that's eluded then since Shoeless Joe took the money and ran -- all the way around the bases again and again.
A win today by Ozzie & Co. would make this a truly classic Fall Classic.
Because of the team that won it.
Hardly because of what happened Tuesday.