Wednesday, July 25, 2007

BALBOA VS. THE EARTH-SLAYER. [7-24-07]

August, 2008: Hello, Bruce Springsteen fans. Sorry you ended up here while looking for your mp3 of a not-very-good song. You might like to read some of my Springsteen writing at jukeboxgraduate.com, however.

What I thought was going to be the best part of the game tonight happened during the 4th inning, just before John Maine came to the plate. The Pirates’ catcher runs out to the mound, followed by someone from the dugout.
“Noooooooo!” my father yelled. “Keep him in! We like him!”
“It’s the *pitcher*,” I added, enjoying a joint heckle with my dad, for the first time in my life. (It was a very satisfying feeling. I definitely get most of my sarcasm from him.)

Of course, a few moments later, this would become my absolute favorite moment in the game:

[More, after the jump.]

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

D.WRIGHT VITAMIN WATER COMMERCIAL.

I’ve been waiting for this.

Although I can’t see how he’ll top that 50 Cent one.

Monday, July 23, 2007

we now return to our regularly-scheduled updates.

I finished the first reading of the Last Potter at about 4:15am Sunday morning.  (That wasn’t straight through - I wimped out Friday night around 2:30am, and was busy all day Saturday.) That was fine timing, as it put me on the couch late Sunday afternoon to catch up on the Mets between naps.

I’m glad for the way the team played in LA. I’m glad they’re back here for a little while. But I’m also glad for the night off tonight.  (And not just because it’ll give me time to make more progress on the second reading.)

Have I mentioned that my father is coming with us tomorrow night???

Friday, July 20, 2007

EXPRESSWAY TO YOUR HEART.

So I could write about TBF nudging me during the encore break at the special Crowded House showcase last night, a night where I was not even going to think about baseball because I WAS BUSY and the Mets have been, well, the Mets, and despite all that, me picking up the phone and getting a 2-0 score courtesy of Google, and then a 4-0 score, and me and TBF and Coop in disbelief, but not truly understanding disbelief until the next query yielded NEW YORK 6 LOS ANGELES 0 1ST INNING, at which point certain people started looking at their watches and peering at the setlist (not me - okay maybe a little. I had been waiting an awfully long time for this, though) and me in my head surveying what venue suitable for watching this new Mets team were in our immediate vicinity (best ones I came up with were the Irish pub next door, the Outback across the street, and David Wright’s apartment a couple of blocks away).

When the show ended, we ran out of the building as fast as we could, not to get ahead of the crowd or to catch a train, but to get to a television. The Irish pub next door might have worked, except they were blaring death metal, and it was not exactly functioning as a palate cleanser.

So Coop went back to Jersey and we sprinted home to Brooklyn in time to move the car before alternate side kicked in, with the obligatory stop to peer in the window of the Turkey’s Nest at the televisions that would have the game on them:
“Is that number 9?”
“9-5? That can’t be 9-5”
“No, that says 9 and Mets.”
“It’s 9,” said a Mets-hat-wearing smoker on the sidewalk, “But man, they had to pull Glavine out.”
Hmmmm.

So it is late by the time we get home and even start watching the damn thing, and we can’t check email or talk to anyone about what is going on and why Glavine got pulled out because of spoilers, and so we watch the first inning and then we fast forward until we see why, exactly, Tommy G. got pulled out, me screaming at the television GARY WE DO NOT CARE ABOUT TOMMY’S 300TH WIN, HE IS KILLING US RIGHT NOW, and then remembering the neighbors, and the cat is not happy because we are alternately yelling invective at the television and high-fiving each other, and before we know it the clock says 1:42 and suddenly we have to try to go to sleep or we will be completely worthless at work in the morning.

I could write about all of that, and I guess I just did. So while I am writing about all of that:

I’D LIKE TO EXTEND A HEARTY “WELCOME BACK” TO MR. MARLON ANDERSON. Who I always quite liked.

I know we all feel like we have been writing the same blog post over and over and over. But I feel a little bit different after last night, combined with the trouncing we gave Mr. Peavy earlier this week. I don’t know if it’s HoJo or the extra BP or what, but I think the tide is turning.

Tonight, however, I have other priorities. But there will also probably be some time for baseball because, after all, there is always time for some baseball. Always.

Have I mentioned my father is coming with us to the game on Tuesday? Stay tuned.

And we are looking to sell our tickets for the 7/28 evening game. Mezz Reserved 29, row E. $52 for the pair ($10 discount for MG readers), includes free express mail shipping. Email MG at metsgrrl dot com (new address!)

FRIDAY PHOTO.

The Mets’ recent performance is making me feel relatively uninspired. I decided to go with Lastings because his very presence on the team pisses so many people off for very stupid reasons. Spring Training 2006.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

BOOK REVIEW: The Cheater’s Guide To Baseball

Author Derek Zumsteg is the kind of guy I’d love to find sitting next to us at a baseball game some time. He’s the kind of fan we run into from time to time who loves the game and loves talking about the game. He tells you things because he loves sharing his knowledge about the game and making people smarter about it makes his conversations about the game even more enjoyable.

This is a horrible, horrible title for a wonderful, wonderful book. Yes, the book does discuss the various ways players “cheat,” but what it really does is explain a nuanced, complex layer of strategy and gamesmanship that also teaches you about baseball and its history.

It is not a book for beginners, or the casual fan. It is a book for people who love trivia and hearing great baseball stories. The person who wrote the book is clearly highly intelligent, with copious baseball knowledge, but at no time during the book did I feel condescended to. After reading this book, I finally understand the hidden ball trick. TBF’s been trying to explain it to me for about a year now.  That’s not an easy thing to understand, but it’s also not an easy thing to explain, either.

BOOK REVIEW: Watching Baseball Smarter

I bought “Watching Baseball Smarter: A Professional Fan’s Guide for Beginners, Semi-experts, and Deeply Serious Geeks” based on a recommendation from Deanna at Marinerds. At the time, I didn’t make the connection between the author of the book, and the guy with 2,389,087 baseballs and the MLB blog about said baseball collecting.  Because if I had, there is no way I would have ever bought this book. I only made the connection a few days later, watching Kids Clubhouse on SNY (hey. sometimes it’s MILES better than Mets Weekly. And they don’t have a dumb puppet.), when Zack Hample was on the show. TBF’s immediate reaction was, “Oh god, not THIS guy.” But you know what? His on-camera, in-person explanation of the various pitches was excellent and we both felt like we’d learned something. So I now had a different, but still open mind toward this book. He clearly knew his stuff and was able to explain it.

Until I started reading the book.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

BOYS OF SUMMER.

Last Thursday, TBF and I headed up to the Museum of the City of New York to hear Roger Kahn speak as part of their Glory Days exhibit. This was our second trip up, having visited during opening week, when the museum was open late and admission was free. 

The description of the lecture on the Museum’s web site read as follows:

The Era, 1947-1957: When the Yankees, the Giants, and the Dodgers Ruled the World
Roger Kahn, the dean of American sports writers, will moderate a discussion of the legendary plays, moments, and players that made the years 1947 to 1957 the greatest in baseball history.

A more accurate description would have read:

Roger Kahn, Brooklyn Dodger fan, will sit around with two of his good friends, Dave Anderson and Bob Wolff (who have also seen a heck of a lot of baseball back in the day) and kibbitz for an hour. It will feel like you are eavesdropping on three friends hanging out on the back porch on a Sunday afternoon. The conversation will have absolutely no form or structure. It will meander all over the place. You will hold your breath the entire time that it’s going on and not want it to stop. Towards the end of the panel’s allotted time, you will consider running out to the nearest bodega and buying a case of beer in order to bribe them to continue.

[more after the jump]

WEST COAST.

I fully intended to watch the game last night, but apparently it was my turn to get the migraine. This had me saying, “Maybe I’ll just get in bed and listen to Howie and Tom,” at 10:15pm, which ended up being me falling asleep not long after that.

I’m kind of glad I missed it.

This particular West Coast swing is going to be tough for me to keep up with, and frankly I wonder if that’s not for the best right now. If we’re going to lose, let me at least not lose sleep in order to watch it.

So I probably won’t write too much about the games; I have a lot of other pieces stacked up that I’ve been saving for a less busy time, or for when game-specific posts aren’t dominating the site.

And I’ll believe Moises Alou is back when I see him on the field with the Mets.

Saturday, July 14, 2007

HEADACHE REMEDY. [7-13-07]

Here are the two pictures that tell you everything you need to know about last night’s game:

The Mets sucked, and TBF got such a monumental migraine he finally agreed to leave at the bottom of the 5th inning (which is, of course, how I knew exactly how bad his headache was. We don’t leave games early.)

More, and more photos (including Rickey), after the jump.