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Hitting the town with a hooker wasn't the only dirty trick A-Rod played in Toronto. Just exactly what did Alex yell as he ran behind Howie Clark on Jorge's infield popup? My research has uncovered the following possibilities:
A) "I got it!!!"B) "Noonan!!!"C) "Sacrebleu!!!"D) "I ate some prime King St. poontang last night, chump!!!"
I'm going with (B)-- I hear A-Rod's a big Ted Knight fan.
This game was such a downer that it took me a few days to find the energy to write something about it. Brought a friend to the game (not a Yankee fan at all) that actually seemed willing to root for the old boys if they deserved it. They didn't.
My dad has an interesting theory about A-Rod, which he told me about a few weeks ago. He thinks Alex is:
1) learning disabled, or in his words, "mentally retarded." This was not a casual throw-away insult like "A-Rod sucks"-- this is something my dad's been thinking about for over a year.
2) visually impaired, or in his words, "partially blind." I asked if this means he can see sometimes, but not other times, and Dad nodded his head. I then wondered aloud if maybe Alex has some sort of bizarre sight-related allergy, and Dad practically jumped out of the couch in agreement.When they showed a close-up of A-Rod squinting and chewing gum in the dugout, I have to admit that the theory didn't seem so farfetched.
It's been a bizarro kind of year for the Yanks, that's fer shitsure. I've personally seen them beat the Sox twice at home (unheard of for yours truly!) and also watched 'em lose at Fenway (first time for me). Oh yeah, they're also under .500, but let's not talk about that.
AWESOME seats tonight, courtesy of my date. Just a few rows off the field, a little bit past the visitors' dugout. A-Rod was within spitting distance.
We placed our food & drinks order asap-- around the top of the second inning. Our booty didn't arrive until the 6th. I was "ready to eat just about anything" by the time my Premio sausage finally showed up, and "anything" was a perfect
description of the pathetic dog. Didn't matter-- I would've eaten three if they'd let me.
Couple of ridiculous Boston fans sitting in front of us that may have stepped right out of the Good Will Hunting DVD. They tried to act tough, but were more Dead Poets Society than anything else. And I don't think either one of them will be caught scribbling a ring theory proof in the hallways of MIT any time soon. And certainly won't be banging J-Lo either. I hated the fucking jerks.
Farnsworth needs to be slapped around by somebody. Not me.
The worst kind of game-- boring, long and disastrous. Unfortunate, since I was leading a group outing of about 100 people.
Overheard:
"This is so f%#$@& boring..."
"This is worse than watching on TV..."
"Which one is Derek Jeter?"
"Did the game start yet?"
Things are tough from the left field bleachers. None of the comments above were unjustified from our vantage point. It's a little bit like watching a movie on an airplane.
A beautiful day for baseball. Charles Simone made the trip down for the game, which often means the Yanks are gonna lose. Not this time.
CS and I saw Moose one pitch away from perfection at Fenway in 2001 (or as the Red Sox radio guys referred to it a few weeks ago, "David Cone's near-perfect game"). I was a little drunk at that game, and almost entirely blind out in the bleachers without my glasses. I was never entirely sure who was batting, although I had a pretty good idea that Mussina was pitching a decent game. It's possible that I jinxed the poor bastard with an excited utterance in the late innings ("Has he walked anybody?" or something stupid like that), but my conscience is clear.
Regardless, I was determined not to do anything wrong this time. I even tried not to leave my seat at all, but decided that pissing in my pants was a bad idea. My general approach was to be consistent in my behavior from the third inning on, which meant drinking Miller Lites and jabbering on and on about Allan Holdsworth and the BBC. When Wang gave up the dong in the 8th, I felt confident that it wasn't my fault.
Not much else that interesting went on: Bob S fucked up a few times, we had some post-game drinks at the "Mexican place" (Cinqo de Mayo was about as big a deal at this joint as Groundhog Day), and continued on and on into the night.
Oh yeah! Right after the 7th inning stretch, Hideki Irabu grabbed a microphone in the radio booth and announced that he was returning to the Yankees to pitch this season! The place went wild. Maybe that was what threw Wang off in the next inning...
Everything seemed back to normal in the Bronx today-- Mariano closing, Farnsworth frustrating, people fighting, and A-Rod sucking all over the joint. It was a great day.
Apparently self-preservation is an instinct that Kei Igawa possesses. He bought himself a little time today.
ATTENTION ALL CRO-MAGNON YANKEE FANS: enough with the fucking anti-Japanese bullshit! This was the third game I've been to this year where I saw and heard idiotic imitations, slurs, etc.. Take that shit somewhere else. I'm as annoyed by "Dice-K" mania as anyone on the planet, but that's no reason to give people shit just for coming to a baseball game. It's wrong, and downright embarassing. I wished Matsui himself would appear in the upper deck today and pound some heads.
Can't wait to see the replay of A-Rod trying to get away from the flying bat.
Well, that pretty much sucked. I went on record opposing a couple of things:1) Bringing in Myers to face Ortiz.Actually, it was my idea for Myers to hit Ortiz... but that's not the point. Myers does have decent numbers against Papi, but I've seen at least a HR and now a double in this "specialty match-up."2) Bringing in Rivera for 5 outs.I thought this wasn't ever going to happen this season! It's only April 20th. Proctor never should have come out in the first place.Easy to say now, but I said it last night while we were there. I think.The Sox were wearing green uniforms to honor Red Auerbach, black patches for Virginia Tech, special decals for 9/11, another black patch for Dennis Johnson, a number 42 for Jackie Robinson (or maybe Mariano Rivera!), a commemorative red sock for Brad Delp, and their 2004 World Series rings.We sat in front of a total idiot who said things like, "Turn two!" when nobody was on base, etc. A slightly pornographic poster of a girl hung over the urinal, which made it a little tough to piss. That and the fact that dozens of angry Boston fans were standing right behind me, seething at A-Rod for hitting another home run and at me for taking at least 5 minutes to piss.It was $7 for a plastic cup of Bud Light. It wasn't entirely clear whether we were getting 12 or 16 oz.-- it was abundantly clear that we weren't buying more than two at a time. Maybe they were 400 ml or something like that. We were sort of close to Canada.No, Fenway is a lot of fun. Even a crappy game like that one.
I can already hear it:"OK, but let's see him do it against a good team!""Yeah, but I'd like to see A-Rod deliver in the playoffs!""He needs to do this in the World Series..."
A-Rod might need to hit two walk-off grand slams in one Fall Classic to truly rid himself of the stigma. It's gotten that ridiculous. Even after yesterday's heroics, it's not over. Not by a long shot. A walk-off, bases loaded long shot.
Somewhere in between his mammoth home runs yesterday, things did seem to be improving slightly. He still got booed, but most of the razzers had to laugh at themselves while they did it. A-Rod occupies a truly bizarre spot right now: he's not going back and forth between hero and goat-- he's actually both at the same time. I'm still trying to figure out why my "PA-RA-DOX!!! PA-RA-DOX!!!" chant hasn't caught on up in the Bronx this year.
Looks like A-Rod himself is catching on to the folly. He's already called himself a "moron" and a "fool" in this short season, along with his 3 titanic dongs. Wait a second... it's possible that A-Rod's simultaneous gore and glory might make us all aware of our own inconsistencies as human beings, therefore enlightening us all! He can act as a mirror, reflecting the fact that we're all deeply flawed yet ultimately perfect! Hallelujah!!!
Kei Igawa seems a bit closer to the deeply flawed side so far. A bit painful to watch. I'm not sure what the "adjustments" will be before his next start.
NOTES:
A really drunk guy tumbled at least five rows down in the upper deck in the middle of the game, which was by far the most exciting moment until that point. Apparently he fell over a vendor-- either a case of beer or a hot dog box. The drunkard was out cold for about 5 minutes after his fall. He was escorted out to wild applause, unlike our starting pitcher.
The Yankees need to make the distinction between Tier Reserved and Tier Box a little more clear on printed tickets. It's a ritual as regular as the bleachers' roll call or "Cotton Eyed Joe"-- somebody always sits in our upper deck seats that should be sitting down in the box seats. Not entirely their fault, as Tier Box seats are stupidly designated with the upper deck markings (U3, U17, etc.). I just hate the smirk of the asshole that just realized they're sitting in the wrong seats, and that their real seats are even better!
Bob Sheppard continues to mutter incoherently into the microphone.
Brrrrrrrr........
We froze our asses off tonight. We waited forever for the bus to take us to the train, which we waited forever for. Then we stood on line for at least 30 minutes so I could cash in my retarded $5 vouchers for more lousy games in July and August. Then we waited in line for another 20 minutes to get into the stadium. Then we sat in the freezing cold for 4 hours and watched the Yankees stumble through 9 innings of inept baseball. Then we took the subway to 125th st and waited another 30 minutes for a bus that never came, and bailed out into a cab.
At least 3 wild pitches, a passed ball, 3 errors (2 by Jeter), a bungled pickoff move, and lots of walks made for a sloppy and cold experience. Luckily we smuggled in some vodka, or else we'd be cold, pissed and broke instead of just cold and pissed. Cough syrup would've been more appropriate, as the Yanks pitched and fielded like they had oven mitts on both hands and 3-D glasses on their heads. Very bad.
Another Opening Day victory witnessed by yours truly. Not a pretty one.
Pre-game ceremonies were actually pretty good, even touching. I had a lump in my throat during the Cory Lidle montage and surviving family appearance (which I soon realized was the enormous ham and salami sub I was scarfing down). Hank Bauer also got a nice memorial piece.
Bob Sheppard seems to be in very bad shape. The "moment of silence" for Bauer (and Bowie Kuhn) was dominated by the sound of Sheppard wheezing into the microphone. In the 5th inning, the appearance of Brian Bruney was mysteriously announced as "Seeeaaan Hennnnn..." in a strange digitized voice. That was the last thing he would say all day, if he even really said it. Sheppard was immediately replaced by whoever the guy is that will be replacing him as soon as he needs to be replaced full-time.
A-Rod was given a hero's welcome during his first at-bat (even though he muffed an easy pop only minutes earlier), and promptly whiffed. He got booed a few times before his hot-shot single and, finally, his mammoth center-field dong. He's almost like a mascott at this point: a goofball savant.
We'll get to Pavano next time he pitches.
BEER UPDATE:
24 oz. Fosters/Heineken: $12 (up from $9.75)
24 oz. Beck's: $10
24 oz. Bud Lite: $9 (this is what I'll be drinking from now on)
16 oz. Beck's: $8.75
16 oz. Miller Lite, etc.: $8.00
Even at these prices, there were lots of very drunk people in the crowd today. The deli up the hill was selling big cans of Miller for $3, and encouraging people to drink them right in the store! We ordered our sandwiches in the middle of a drunken, burping mob. We'll see how long they get away with it.
Hitting the town with a hooker wasn't the only dirty trick A-Rod played in Toronto. Just exactly what did Alex yell as he ran behind Howie Clark on Jorge's infield popup? My research has uncovered the following possibilities:
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