Well, crap. Flickr is down and it’s late and I can’t write and edit photos and get to bed at a decent hour, plus there’s nowhere to upload the photos anyway - so here are some shots I took tonight that will have to hold you over until tomorrow:
As much as I wanna see Zito pitch, ain’t gonna happen. This grrl is way too tired.
Game 3 of the 1969 World Series. I might have been just old enough to remember this game on tv. Surely, my father watched it.
I asked TBF to record it, even though he is not a big guy for historical games: “I care about what the Mets are doing now,” is his usual response. It is curious because it’s not like he’s ignorant of baseball history or couldn’t tell you the Mets lineup for just about any year you could choose. At least now I recognize the names, not just of the Mets but even some of the Orioles.
I will be honest and say my curiosity wasn’t just about watching the game (although I am incredibly eager to watch a game where Seaver is pitching), it was seeing shea, how it has changed (and not changed). The people in the crowd. Men wearing suits and ties (and hats!) women in dresses. The size and openness of the bullpen. THe open fences at the back of the stadium, which, while following a fly ball, allow you to see the cars in the parking lot. The ushers, wearing bright red uniforms and formal, bus-driver-style hats. The sign guy, putting every lame-o at Shea this year (or any year, likely) to shame (how is it that his signs look so much better in 1969, when everything had to be done by hand, than in 2006, when things can be programmed and printed for pennies?). The scoreboard. The sponsors. The lack of sponsors. The VIP’s in the VIP boxes (former Chief Justice Warren made TBF very happy, although seeing Joe DiMaggio is unquestionably cool).
And yes, the baseball, how it has changed and not changed. How 38 years have gone by and I can still follow and understand the game.
We watched about five innings and then saved it for later. I really do want to watch the whole thing from start to finish, especially to watch Nolan Ryan come out in the 7th inning. And then maybe I can talk to my dad about it the next time I see him.
WE INTERRUPT THIS EPISODE OF “SLOPPY BASEBALL TONIGHT” FOR A VERY SPECIAL BULLETIN!
MIAMI PREPARES FOR MARTINEZ-MANIA:
Here, the Mets SP points out the correct location that the team should be hitting balls in.
METS SP PEDRO MARTINEZ MAKES SURPRISE APPEARANCE IN MIAMI.
He is shown here signalling, “WTF?! You guys blow tonight.”
PEDRO MARTINEZ PREPARES TO SURRENDER TO UTTER INCOMPETENCE DISPLAYED BY TEAMMATES ON THE FIELD:
Says, “Yo, amigos, I don’t want to come back and play for a team that can’t even be bothered to run a fucking foul ball down to first base just in case it goes fair.”
THIS HAS BEEN A VERY SPECIAL BULLETIN. THANK YOU FOR JOINING US ON YET ANOTHER EVENING OF “SLOPPY BASEBALL TONIGHT”.
We hope to fucking hell there isn’t a repeat tomorrow.
As I walked down Third Avenue towards The Back Page and the SNY viewing party, I passed a nail salon. I looked at my nails, sighed, and reached a conclusion.
Zoe was waiting for me out front, pink cap and all.
“I have a brilliant idea,” I announced.
“Yes?”
“A nail salon with big screen tv’s… showing the baseball game. Or the football game. Or the basketball game.”
Zoe gave me her adorable frown.
“It’s a bar?”
“We could also serve drinks.”
“Guys can come too?”
“They could, but it’s more of a chick place.”
“You want to open a salon?”
“No, I want *someone else* to open it so I can go there. I need a manicure, but I hate girlie crap and want to watch the damn game. Can’t I multi-task?”
Luckily, Coop showed up a few minutes later, someone bought me a beer, and the game started shortly after that.
Click to continue reading GIRLS, GIRLS, GIRLS
Shawn Green with hair! Shawn Green batting #2 in the lineup. Shawn Green hitting! And mostly, Shawn Green with hair.
This has nothing to do with the Mets, but it has everything to do with this blog, and how and why I started writing a baseball blog. I stumbled onto Bat Girl a few years ago - back in 2004 - when she began the innovation known as “Legovision” - TBF having a soft spot in his heart for Legos, and add baseball - well, there you go.
She announced today that she is shutting the blog down, due to many circumstances, foremost of which is the birth of her son.
If you’ve never read her site before, now is the time. Her writing about baseball is everything I aspire to be, and everything I am not - yet.
5th inning, after D. Wright’s home run, I slowly raised my arms above my head in an arc-like shape, and bounced up and down.
“What’s that?” TBF asked, carefully.
“The home run apple!”
“Um, okay.”
“Okay, you gotta compliment me, or mock me.”
“Honey, that’s pretty lame.”
“Oh, come on.”
“Ingenious, but lame.”
We started off the game tonight debating the lineup change. While we were both fine with moving Delgado, I still wasn’t sure I didn’t want Lo Duca batting second (and yes I saw the 2nd vs. 7th stats too, I just think that maybe Jose feels protected or confident knowing that Lo Duca will always come on to move him over). Conversations I couldn’t even think about having a year ago, TBF no longer bats an eye, instead cautions me that we need to figure out what we do when we start to have virulent disagreements, “Now that you know what you’re talking about.” It is likely only a matter of time until the first door-slamming, cat-hiding-under-the-bed baseball disagreement.
Oliver Perez! What’s not to like? He’s self-effacing, he isn’t cocky, he loves what he’s doing and he acts like he’s thrilled to be an ace. I would like to order myself an OP shirt, but TBF already did (I opted for CHAVEZ 10), and we try really hard to not acquire identical items of Mets-related clothing. As it is, we’re still not sure whether wearing our WRIGHT 5 jerseys (mine road black, his classic pinstripes) is cute or, well, g-h-e-y.
And Joe Smith! That inning was a joy to watch - strength, precision, power. BOOM! He’s the subject of adoration over at Billy’s blog today.
Coop and Zoe are trying to get me out of the house tomorrow for the SNY thing. We’ll see.
So I didn’t go to Sunday night’s game. Both TBF and I got second chances from the Mets, and although we evaluated our ticket options, on Friday, we were all about “Let’s save that money for a game that really matters”.
Friday night, as I wrestled with 350+ photos from BP and the game, and tried to wrestle my words into something worthwhile, TBF announces that he thinks he wants to go to the game. Crankiness ensues. We sleep on it. He still wants to go. I tell him to go, and then relent. My reluctance was based on the need to start with a new employer on Monday morning, and knowing just how bright eyed and bushy tailed I am after a windy night in the upper deck watching an 8pm game.
Saturday night, we found two singles in adjoining upper boxes, and then I finally realize I just can’t do it and tell him to go. Crankily, I drive him to the 7 train. Crankily, I take up position on the couch with the cat. Crankily, I ordered chinese and endured ESPN commentary, while firing txt messages at TBF. I had planned to turn off the TV around 10:30 and turn on Howie and Ed, and then we were near the end and I was already crankier, but knew it was probably better to just finish watching it.
All things considered, the game I wish I’d changed my last minute plans to see was Wednesday night’s game, finding myself out in Jackson Heights for Indian food at about 7:30, and TBF texting me to say, “Come on out! Rain delay until 9:15!” I didn’t go because I was tired and wearing work clothes, but should’ve said “fuck it,” bought a sweatshirt at the team store, and sat with TBF to watch midnight baseball. That’s a better memory than any Subway Series.
“What do you want to have happen tonight,” inquired William from row F. “Strong start, or big walk-off drama?”
It amazed me that I had an actual opinion. “I want them to come out and dominate right from the start. None of this ‘we’re the Mets and we play scrappy baseball’ like we’re some kind of underprivledged cousins.” (It equally amazed me that I used the word “dominate” in the sports context.)
Ah, the Subway Series. For once, Shea was only about 1/3 full of Yankees fans. BP wasn’t full of kids in Jeter jerseys stomping on you to get a random fly ball. Any Yankees chanting during the game was easily shouted down with a hearty “Let’s Go Mets”. There was none of the hesitancy I felt last year, we cheered the starting lineup and we booed the Yankees with gusto.
What a game! Knowing that Oliver would settle down eventually. Sheer glee when he did.
10-15-27 = Knowing that nothing would get lost in our outfield.
“We have Endy Chavez—and you don’t!” TBF’s favorite cackle at any opposing team.
It was beyond frigid. Every time I swear that I am taking the blanket and the hat and an extra fleece until July, and then I take it all back out of the bag. This time I mean it.
Luckily, Miriam & Julia loaned me their blanket, and this game was so quick that everyone kept asking us on the way home what the score was and what inning it was, and when we told them that the game was over, we were there, they looked at us in amazement.
Best sign was carried by a 12 year old in the mezzanine:
“LET’S GO METS! Please win, because I’m surrounded by Yankees fans and it’ll be a long car ride home if you don’t.”
One of the best parts was on the B61 home, we walk on to find about four NYPD on the bus, and when everyone from the 7 train piled on, one of them announced, “Sorry, Yankees fans have to take another bus. We can arrange an escort back to the Bronx for you.”
The lone Yankees fan looked around to see who they were talking to.
“I’ll give you this hat so you can support a winning team,” TBF offered. I kicked him, gently.
I think he’s going Sunday night. I can’t go because of work the next day, and I’m a little cranky that he’s going to go without me. MMMpppph.
Click here for the flickr gallery from BP today and the game. Highlights below.
Yes, I’m going to post a lot of photos of Cliff, because, quite honestly, otherwise absolutely nothing else happened at Shea tonight that is worth discussing. So feel free to skip this post if you don’t want to see the Uncle Floyd Show.
[more, including photos, after the jump]
Click to continue reading THE UNCLE FLOYD SHOW. [5-15-07]
