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INDEPENDENCE DAY DISTRACTIONS. | metsgrrl.com

INDEPENDENCE DAY DISTRACTIONS.

We were at the House of Evil, watching the Blue Jays play the Yankees. We sat next to these guys:

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The hats – from a place called flyingbirdhat.com – had a switch under the bill that made the birds flap their wings. (As I said to TBF, “I’m not sure this is a sustainable business model. There are, what, three teams?”) Every time they thought the Jays were about to hit a home run, they would unfurl the wings of the birds so they could turn them on while cheering. The Yankees fans in our immediate vicinity did not know what to make of these guys. They would not be put in what the Yankees fans thought was their place, they cheerfully endured all heckling (while posing for photographs between innings) and kept up the practice of yelling “MARCO….” (“Scutaro”) every time he was at bat. We thought they were hysterical.

Our seats were in the last row of the section, in the shade, padded nicer than TBF’s desk chair, and if it wasn’t the fact that the other team was the Yankees, it would have been a highly enjoyable day. My father got these seats from a business associate (he wanted to get us tickets for the Subway Series, but they were already gone, as were tickets to see the Tigers, the Red Sox, and the Royals). At the time I picked this game, the Blue Jays were good. And we were hopeful for a Doc Halladay start – which we ended up getting, even if he wasn’t throwing his best stuff today.

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We were joined by my nephew Zachary and my brother-in-law. It was my nephew’s first major league baseball game. He will be 7 at the end of the month. He was fascinated by TBF’s scorecard, and within a few innings, was making a valiant attempt:

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We were thrilled to be at such an auspicious event with my nephew, with one small complication:

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Before you get started, trust me that this is not our idea of how we wanted to see him grow up. But, let’s be realistic: he lives in New Jersey. All of his friends are Yankees fans. His father is from Boston, so you can imagine how delighted he was to have to purchase the hat on Zachary’s head as they walked into the stadium (because, of course, there was no suitable headgear in their house). He’s also still a kid. He could grow up and choose another baseball team, he could grow up and abandon baseball altogether, or he could grow up going to Subway Series games with me and TBF and creating some inter-family rivalry. I mean, he’s not even 7 yet. And before you ask why we have not exerted our considerable influence, he’s not our kid, and we were explicitly enjoined from doing so not long after he was born. So showing up with a little David Wright jersey would not fix things, it would just make everybody angry.

Unlike most Yankees fans, he already has a considerable advantage in that he already knows quite a bit about the team’s history, and at least with us around, he’ll learn baseball fundamentals, how to score, and how to not behave like a douchebag at a baseball game. (Why is it when I go to Yankee Stadium I learn new ways to describe parts of the female anatomy that I have never heard before?) So, at least we have that going for us.

When the game went into extra innings, we were originally concerned about getting somewhere to watch the Mets game, but after watching MLB At Bat on my phone and seeing ground out after line out after ground out, we decided that probably wouldn’t be a very good idea. We got home in time for the 8th inning.

We are very, very glad I unilaterally declared the City of Philadelphia off-limits for 2009, and thus had no plans to ever be at these games.

Enjoy the rest of your weekend.

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