Sunday, June 10, 2007
FOR THE BIRDS.
“i don’t even understand the cycle of the birds. they’re flying around the infield. they’re telling their friends, ‘come on in! see a ball game.’” - Tom McCarthy today
I was listening to the game in the office on the radio, while TBF, newly arrived from Detroit, sat in the living room. The problem with that, of course, is the delay, which meant that he was yelling or pounding on the table shortly after I had done so. After a while I just couldn’t take the carnage any more - I just couldn’t - so I turned off the radio.
TBF did share that the music selections at Comerica are excellent, appropriate, and pay tribute to the heritage of the city. “Dancing In The Street,” “Eye of the Tiger,” “Get Ready,” et cetera.
< MetsGrrl glares in the direction of Shea >
We also got to relive his brief appearances on the Fox broadcast from yesterday, in which his arm, signalling various balls as fair, figures prominently. (He will not let me share any of those shots with you.) And, as you can see, he did return bearing gifts.
I hope the Mets have a lot to think about on their plane ride to the City of Angels. I’m not sure whether they need tough love, a Jedi master, Zen wisdom, a swift kick in the ass, or a combination of all of the above, but




Ummm… I was there Sunday… it started out great.... 3-0 in the first inning? Yes, please. However. It got so ugly so fast.... and Glavine? What up? It was hot as hell… we were sitting right in the sun… great seats, 10 rows from the Tigers dugout, but directly in the heat. And all the crazed Tiger fans around screaming like crazy (they are so passive-aggressive out there… talking about us literally right behind our backs. Whatever. Just got home from the airport and saw they sucked some more ass out in LA. What. Is. Up.