White Sox Jump Out to a Solid Start

"A cutter at 100 miles an hour," Bagwell said, "is not too easy."

The White Sox flew their small-ball flag high and proud, using a perfectly executed hit-and-run play to set up a run in the second inning and bunting with their No. 5 hitter, Carl Everett, at the plate in the fifth.

But ultimately, it was a pair of home runs that spelled the difference. The first, by Jermaine Dye in the first inning, rattled Clemens and provided the first clue that the big man was not right. And the second homer, hit by third baseman Joe Crede off reliever Wandy Rodriguez, put the White Sox ahead for good in the fourth.

With the Astros continually threatening, Crede also made two diving plays at third base to save runs.

As the top of the first inning ended, Clemens was out of his dugout before the first White Sox player had stepped into theirs. He ascended the hill, threw his warmup pitches quickly and casually, then delivered his first pitch of the night -- a 92 mph fastball -- to White Sox leadoff man Scott Podsednik, as thousands of camera flashes went off around the stadium. With that pitch, Clemens became the second-oldest pitcher ever to start a World Series game.

There would be 53 more pitches for Clemens, one of which wound up sailing over the wall in right off the bat of Dye in the first inning. It was in the second inning Clemens felt his hamstring tighten. He labored through the inning, giving up two more runs and eking by on competitive fire alone. Once, when A.J. Pierzynski called time and stepped out of the batter's box just as Clemens was beginning his delivery, Clemens buzzed his ear with a fastball a few pitches later, drawing an angry glare.

But two more White Sox runs would score in the inning -- including one when Carl Everett made a daring dash home on a force out at second base, after Astros first baseman Mike Lamb failed to hold Everett at third. And when Clemens finally struck out White Sox leadoff man Scott Podsednik at the end of a grueling 12-pitch at-bat to end the inning, he limped off the mound, across the infield grass and down the steps of the Astros' dugout.

"If his leg is bothering him, he's going to compensate with his arm," catcher Brad Ausmus said, "and if he compensates with his arm, he's not going to last very long."

On a cool night that erased years of October longing, only the coldest of Chicago hearts could delight in the sight of the greatest pitcher of his generation, wounded and defeated, lurching off the field and out of sight, perhaps forever.