September in the Rain.

I would suggest that Tim Wakefield's mother didn't allow him to play in the rain. Maybe she thought that he would get a cold or maybe she was worried that he would trek mud onto her clean floors but any game (let alone a Wakefield start) that begins an hour late and manages to finish at a reasonable time is alright by me. Clearly, the man wasn't messing around: eight innings, no walks, and only three hits on ninety-four pitches. There's nothing like a deeply ingrained fear of one's mother to get you to do the right thing.

Or he's made of sugar.