Athletics 7, Yankees 0

I almost bought an Igawa shirt before the game-- thank heavens I came to my senses. My escape was the Ballpark Lanes restroom, where stingy pissers can be seen desperately wiping their hands on their pants in order to avoid tipping the weird guy at the door.

Nothing to report about the game. I bought a beer in the 3rd inning (Lite), only to be pleasantly surprised in the 6th with another beer (Foster's?). This was about as exciting as things got.

Apparently Scott Proctor burned several personal items in a small bonfire near the top of the Yankee dugout steps at the conclusion of his disastrous relief appearance today. Here's a practice I'd like to see more of. Maybe Wil Nieves can burn his batting gloves next week.

A's 7, Yanks 0 postscript

OH MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS!!!

Got home from today's drubbing and passed out on the couch. Woke up and realized I completely burned the shit out of myself at today's friggin game. No, I wasn't trying to get Scott Proctor's autograph.

I feel like the guy in the hospital that fingers Keyser Soze from his deathbed-- burnt to a crisp (ok, that's an exaggeration and I never fingered nobody...). My arms are the color of strawberry popsicles. I managed to avoid the "of course you feel like shit, honey-- you drank way too much at the Yankee game!!" look this evening but succumbed to the "of course you feel like shit, honey-- you didn't bother to use sunblock at the Yankee game!!" look instead.

I might as well've gotten drunk. At least I'd still be asleep on the couch.

The misery continues...

"Aim for the middle of the plate, and hope for the best."
-Ken Singleton, YES commentator

I didn't watch a lot of this game, which I'm thankful for. I did manage to see more "he said, she said"-style hijinks in the outfield, terrible RISP performances, and complete lack of command in late relief.

How is it that Proctor walks the leadoff guy, gives up a hit, nearly breaks his wrist on a beautiful diving catch, and there's no one warming up in the bullpen? Again, I wasn't following the game closely-- maybe I missed the update that the entire Yankee bullpen had a sneak attack of the runs. I mean, what if Proctor has control problems and he can't throw a ... oops, he just walked two more guys.

This is without a doubt the crappiest this team has looked in at least 10 years.

Interleague laughers

The Yankees have just completed a horrific debacle of a "west coast" NL swing. It completely sucked. Their stints in Denver and San Francisco rivaled some of the most depraved touring incidents of my own musical career, in the very same cities. If the Yanks had only found a way to play in Chico, CA on this trip, they'd be in last place.

Anyway, the Yankee toolbox was missing a few wrenches today-- no one could throw, catch, run or hit. Our awful pitching wasn't even close to being the problem. Which reminds me: Brian Bruney is about to implode. Mark my words...

The much-ballyhooed matchup between Clemens and Bonds was a mere bedfart. Then Villone plunked Barry on his next at bat. Bonds aside, the Giants' batting order was probably the worst I've seen all year. They still killed us.

Best thing of the day was Chris Basak's first major league at bat. He lined one out to left field, lowered his head, and chugged around the bases in the style of Jim Eisenreich. Basak proudly arrived at second with what appeared to be a stand-up double. The rook was completely unaware of the fact that Senor Bonds caught the ball. He stood on second for a while, with Larry Bowa making frantic, never-before-seen gestures to him from third base (starting with the standard "you're out" thumb, and moving on to a fist-in-palm sign apparently meaning "he caught the ball and you're out, you fucking idiot!!!). Basak shrunk back to the dugout, getting the requisite ribbing from Jeter but rolled eyes from the rest of the bench.

Our Yanks are now back below .500 and behind the Blue Jays (!) in third place. Three of our next four opponents have better records than we do. I'll let you know how things end up.

Yankees 11, Mets 8

Always a bit weird going to a 1:00 Saturday game after a late Friday night at the park. My buddy drunkenly predicted it would be "95 degrees" on Saturday, and he wasn't far off. It was hot as hell.

I bumped into an old friend right before the rain delay and got separated from Mrs. Mazz. Not legally separated (yet), but separated by about 8,000 drunk and wet NYers packed into the upper deck hallways. We went home right away.

Some expert heckling took place in our section. A bunch of guys behind us tortured an uptight Met fan to such a degree that the mere mention of "Reyes" in a medium voice set the guy into a frenzy. Then his wife got involved, and it almost got real ugly. I'm a little worried that we haven't seen the end of this showdown yet, as most of the participants are season ticket holders in my section. I'll keep you posted.

Mets 2, Yankees 0

The 6th annual "Kerzner Klassic" was a fun bust. First time the Mets actually won the event and probably first time I wasn't lethally hung over the next day.

notes:

- Josh Phelps at DH was a complete embarrassment. How can this be the best we have? The guy staggers around the box as if the bat was made of 350 pounds of plutonium. Anyone remember Ruben Sierra? Glenallen Hill?

- Great fun watching "J-Lo" persecute and prosecute offending drinkers in our ALCOHOL-FREE section 13. She watched the entire tier like a hawk for the first three innings of the game-- I felt like I was taking the SAT exam.

- Stuck in the bowels of the 161st St subway station for what seemed like hours (we squandered precious pharmaceutical time down there!), fans were presented with every reason necessary to build ourselves a new Yankee Stadium.

Yankees 9, Pirates 3

I thought I'd start out by describing the majestic walk from bullpen to mound by the returning Roger Clemens, but I can't do that because I wasn't there. It took me TWO FUCKING HOURS to get to the damn game. No exaggeration, TWO HOURS. It's a minor miracle that nobody on that D train was murdered or seriously injured. The idiot next to me kept asking me, "Do you know why the train isn't moving?" or commenting, "I think we might miss Clemens's opening pitch." You think so, old man??!! Thank the lord for my PDA-- I nearly poked a hole in the screen playing at least sixty games of "demon" solitaire.

Screw the game. I couldn't get into it. The only highlight was some lady behind us totally ratting out a couple that were smoking cigarettes in the upper deck. The couple already had a profile in our section: the guy's face was bright red and the girl's boobs were enormous. Both were very drunk.Anyway, a security team came up and removed the offending smokers. And I mean "team"-- a regular security guy, a cop, a really big guy, and two "yellow shirts" (including the legendary "Angel of Death" a.k.a. "J-Lo"). Both seemed confused as they were escorted from section 6.

This is beginning to bother me. It's like the "If you see something, say something..." campaign on the subway, right? They're experimenting with these little remote controls in movie theaters with buttons to report "problems" with the film. You know, like sound, picture, temperature, and of course, other.
Speaking of films, my date and I went to see Knocked Up after the game. Worst previews I've ever seen in my moviegoing lifetime.
1) Something with Adam Sandler and the King of Queens guy as friends pretending to be a gay couple so they can fool local authorities
2) The ping pong version of Dodgeball
3) Something with Robin Williams as some sort of religious guy that counsels/spies on a couple about to get married
4) The new Die Hard
5) I don't remember, but it was awful

All of the above (except Die Hard) contained homophobic innuendo, people getting hit in the face with flying objects, and Christopher Walken.