The last thing I saw of this game was Sal Perez limping off the field. The White Sox were leading 7-1, and Kansas City's catcher needed help to leave the field after hyperextending his knee in a collision with third baseman Cheslor Cuthbert.
I wasn't putting an easy win in the bank. Rather, some friends came over to make sure I didn't lose an air conditioner out the window, and after the task was completed, we went out to a beer garden.
Still, I had assumed the Sox had won in some capacity until I received a text from my dad: "I am embarrassed for the White Sox and their multi-million $ closer."
Then I looked at the score and laughed.
I'm not going to watch the bottom of the ninth inning. I don't have survivor's guilt after seeing my share of these games from watching three years of bad White Sox baseball.
The mostly healthy White Sox and a fully rested David Robertson lost a six-run lead in the ninth inning before he could get two more outs to a team without its starting left fielder, third baseman and, now, catcher.
That's really some kind of pathetic.