Wednesday, July 11, 2007

THE MID-SUMMER CLASSIC, 2007.

METSGRRL’S ALL-STAR GAME HATE LIST

1. Tony LaRussa
2. Albert Pujols
3. Chase Utley
4. The Entire Fox TV On-Air Staff, except Eric Byrnes and his Dog*
7. Jeanne Zelasko’s Outfit
8. Anyone who had a ticket to a seat and wasn’t using it (and wasn’t in the outfield trying to catch a ball)
9. The guy directly behind home plate that alternately waved while on his cell phone and did the ‘i’m going to distract the pitcher by moving my arms in a rolling motion’ thing
10. The entire press corps that let LaRussa off entirely too easy

[the rest after the jump.]

ALL-STAR GAME.

Super-tired, early day tomorrow. Special bonus post tomorrow night.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

HABLA ESPANOL?

“It’s going to be great, man,” Reyes said. “People like it at Shea. When I walk in the street, they all call me, ‘Profesor.’ It’s exciting. Albert Pujols likes it. Andruw Jones likes it. Every guy tells me they can’t wait to go to Shea Stadium to see ‘Profesor Reyes.’”

[via]

HOME RUN DERBY.

So this All Star thing is still New To Me. In 2005, completely off my radar. In 2006, I kind of sort of got it, but not really. I knew there was No Baseball and that the Mets were picked for the team, but the Home Run Derby? And then I had a friend visiting from overseas and she needed to go to JFK, so we drove her. This was pre-DVR, so TBF had to set up the VCR to tape the Derby. Even then, when we came home from the airport, it was more along the lines of “Well, let’s just see what’s going on” and we turned on the TV and—
“DAVID WRIGHT HAS 25 HOME RUNS?!!?”

This year is different. This year is me bitching when TBF calls me at lunch because has a last-minute dinner date with his father, and thus I would have a delay in getting my Home Run Derby fix on. He gets home by 8:45 and we immediately start watching the taped proceedings. I love San Francisco. I miss the West Coast, just a little bit. I can’t wait to go there to see a baseball game.

The sight of Adam Duritz and Counting Crows with smoke and fireworks going off behind them is hysterical. If there is a band that could possibly be less smoke and fireworks, it is Counting Crows - who I do not like very much, but respect greatly, and at least they don’t suck. Their band is on a tour of minor league baseball parks this summer. And, at least they are very, very local.

The band finishes, and now we are treated to shots of the crowd entering the ballpark. I see a little girl walk through the turnstiles with a pink baseball glove.  I am suddenly seized with a desire I did not know I had.
“I want a pink glove.”
“I didn’t know if you wanted a glove. We could get you one, we could play catch.”
“I want a PINK glove. Do you think they make them in my size??”
“We’ll get you a glove.”

[I realize this may seem slightly hypocritical, but as Whitman said, “Do I contradict myself? Well, then, I contradict myself. I am large, I contain multitudes.”]

Saturday, July 07, 2007

ALMOST SATURDAY NIGHT.

[Bear with me. The Mets do actually appear in this post. Towards the end.]

It is too early to be posting on a Saturday, but TBF and I are shortly off to the netherlands of New Jersey to provide babysitting services to my niece and nephew for the day. This is our opportunity to try to bring my nephew away from the Dark Side; no, he’s not a fan of that team in the Bronx, it’s worse than that.

He’s not a fan of any team.

My sister’s husband comes from Boston. He has been part of our family for a very, very long time. In all of that time, I never heard him voice any sports affiliation, much less a baseball affiliation. However, once I started dating TBF, the household was suddenly an avid Red Sox household. When we purchased the young man a left-handed glove and a practice ball for a birthday last year, my sister and brother-in-law almost had apoplexy before the gift was open, because from the wrappings (it was in the bag we bought it in - he’s FOUR), they were sure we had gone against their explicit wishes and bought him Mets gear.  (While I’d love to see my nephew in a tiny little David Wright jersey, I’m not the kind of a**hole that does the opposite of what a parent of a child that is not my own asks me to not do.)

Friday, July 06, 2007

FRIDAY PHOTO.

I’M INTO…

TBF would like to let it be known that that UNBELIEVABLY ANNOYING McDonald’s commercial is filmed at the McDonald’s across the street from Wrigley Field. (He also adds that you can bring food from that McDonald’s into Wrigley Field, and that the lines at that McDonald’s can get ridiculously long).

:::this has been a public service announcement brought to you by THE FACT THAT THE METS DECIDED NOT TO SUCK TONIGHT:::

Thursday, July 05, 2007

MISCELLANY.

Serious Dismay Sports, representing the fine state of Ohio, visited with us during the Phillies series.

And I join the rest of the baseball bloggers who are encouraging you to VOTE NESHEK:

(as stolen from the awesome Deanna at the equally awesome Marinerds)

[MG comments: I like Pat Neshek because I have been reading his blog for some time now, and that is of course totally because of Bat Girl (RIP), and yes I have a weakness for reading baseball blogs actually written by just about any player (okay, any player that’s not a member of The Enemy [pick one], and even then I’d probably make an exception for Jamie Moyer, who is someone who should totally have a blog), but Pat Neshek’s is one of the best. And who else are you going to vote for? Kelvin freaking Escobar?]

ROCKY MOUNTAIN WAY.

TBF walked away when it was 10-3. I lasted a little bit longer. We just kind of pretended there wasn’t a game on for the rest of the night.

Quite honestly, at this point I have no words. Or feel like everything that one could say about the Mets’ problems right now have already been said.

Right now the All Star break can’t come soon enough.

Monday, July 02, 2007

POINT BREEZE. [7-1-07]

We bought our tickets to these games back when they went on sale. Rightly we assumed that the games would sell out, and we didn’t want to deal with the open market for a frickin road game. So it struck me as odd in the extreme that for the game that sold out first, we were on the field level. But for the game that didn’t sell out for a while (especially when it was slated to be the ESPN Sunday night game) we had this view:

We went to breakfast at the infamous Oregon Diner in South Philly. Mindful of the fact that this was 1) South Philly and 2) the Oregon Diner, we were not wearing Mets anything (except my sneakers, and I was even nervous about that), except that TBF forgot to leave his hat in the car. He stuffed it into his hand after I protested repeatedly.  After all of this stealth, we get in line to pay for breakfast only to see a table of about 12 Mets fans in full colors walking up to the cash register. I still believe that my caution was prudent, even if TBF was rolling his eyes at me.

[More after the jump.]