What it’s like to be a hot dog vendor at Shea. (Be sure to watch the video.)
Somehow I am not surprised to learn that Shea leads the major leagues in hot dog consumption. Maybe because everywhere else they’re *not* Nathan’s and Hebrew National and as a result, taste like ***?
8th inning:
“Oh, my god, Gary, stop talking about the f’ing popcorn.”
“All that matters is—” TBF intones, “—Endy is The Man.”
Not a nail biter, but not a clean sweep either. I am struck by Maine’s command, my serene knowledge that, even with men on first and second, he will get us out of it - and he does.
Julio Franco is now officially the oldest man I will never make fun of. Does that count as a water landing?
I am a little sad, though, that he is not the oldest man to have a celebration dance with Jose Reyes. (Just a hug.)
I love the view of the dugout at Chase Field. But tonight I was rueing that I had not been more diligent with my Spanish lessons (and no, not the ones from the Jose Reyes Spanish Academy).
The story about Lo Duca’s mom (from Gary and Ron) was just heartbreaking.
And - Damion Easley and the double play - did you watch that? No flamboyance, no wasted movement whatsoever. Seriously, if the man is just so - zen.
In the end, the popcorn doesn’t matter, but I am indignant on Endy’s behalf.
There, I’m going to use my own damn cliche first.
I wasn’t even going to watch this game. I have been fighting some kind of Spring bug all this week, hence the lack of posting - we didn’t go to the game on Tuesday, even - and I was asleep until the 4th inning, when I couldn’t sleep any more, and was having dreams about Shea being much smaller but square. (It’s a stomach thing. Always gives me weird dreams.)
I was working on my Friday Photo when Damion freaking Easley came up to bat and on a 2-0 count knocked one over the fences, on the side of the park opposite the swimming pool.
“We’re going to go back to that,” TBF picks up the remote.
“Because we weren’t expecting it.”
“Just like last time.”
I predict that the duo of Easley and Chavez will become very popular this year.
In honor of Dr. Randolph’s upcoming honorary doctorate from my alma mater this weekend (College at Lincoln Center, represent!), this week’s Friday Photo is one of my favorite photos of Willie, chatting with Cliff Floyd during BP in Pittsburgh last year.
Welcome to the upper deck on a Monday night, against the Marlins. El Duque on the DL. To quote TBF, “Hmmm. Pitcher called up due to injury, four letter last name - where have I seen this movie before?” You’ve all seen this movie before, because it’s called The Pitcher Sucked Was Not Great, and The Team Was Asleep.
I know. The same wind that should have carried our balls out over the fence also carried THEIR balls out, over the fence, against the scoreboard, and, mysteriously, out of our gloves. There was one inning-ending play so bad (when Reyes, Easley, Green and Delgado, if not Alou too for good measure, all went running for the ball, with Reyes ultimately dropping it) that I just started screaming along the lines of: “ALL FOUR OF YOU??! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” The crowd starts to boo Park and I join in, feeling the need to clarify, “I’M NOT BOOING HIM, I’M BOOING THE FOUR OF YOU, YOU KNOW BETTER!”
The team wakes up, rallies back to regain four runs, only to let them get another two. People were leaving in droves, and honestly, I don’t know how much I blamed them. It was windy, and the Mets didn’t seem to care, why should they?
You know it’s bad when the highlight of the game is the addition of Sr. Oliver Perez to the faculty at the Jose Reyes Spanish Academy.
Moments from tonight’s game:
“I don’t know any swear words in Korean,” I said.
TBF says something unintelligible, but that sounds like Korean.
“What’s that?”
“It’s ‘hello’. It’s what Jae Seo used to say during the ground rules.”
“That’s not helpful right now.”
Rick Peterson walks out of the dugout. “‘Coaching visit to mound,’” TBF comments, in his best Gamecast imitation.
“What’s he going to say? ‘Chan Ho, do you like kimchi? And do you like ice cream? Do you like them together? Well, right now it’s like you’re putting kimchi on your ice cream,’” I attempt.
[more after the jump]
Click to continue reading PARK LIFE. [4-30-07]
Yes, I realize that last season, I demanded that whoever was bringing those signs to Shea cease and desist immediately, but today, when he left the game, I was ready to make one and hold it up myself. But Johnny Maine gives me that warm fuzzy feeling inside, and no that was not from the crab fries at RFK Stadium.
Saturday night, we had a family dinner, so we found ourselves listening to the game starting with the 5th inning, then parking the car and running into the house to watch the rest of the game, and then we had friends going onstage at 10:30pm in a bar in the neighborhood. We say, “It’s okay, we’re recording the game, no one at Matchless is going to talk to us about the Mets.”
We get to the bar and there is suddenly a TV in the corner, broadcasting the game. But at 10:30 we had to stop watching and go watch the band play until 11:40.
Once the show was over, I was terrified someone would blow it. “Just walk straight out,” TBF admonishes me as we leave the bar. “Don’t even look at the commercials.” We ran home again, and watched the rest of the game.
All of that is a fairly boring and tedious attempt to try to explain how we ended up going to DC today at the spur of the moment. I don’t know when I grabbed the laptop and typed “nationals.com” into the browser window. We’re going to the game on Monday (thank you, Andrew, for giving us your blood donation tickets). We have our plan seats for Tuesday. It’s RFK Stadium, not exactly a park we’re dying to see.
At some point I turned the laptop to TBF and showed him the best available seats. I was waiting for him to shut me down.
*bzzt*
So we found ourselves up at 7am and in the car by 8, driving south.
[More on the trip, and photos, after the jump. C’mon, click below!]
Click to continue reading THE MAINE EVENT. [04-29-07]I don’t even know how this idea germinated, all I know is that TBF and I are setting alarms for 7am and driving down to DC tomorrow.
Tonight’s best quote:
Me, Franco at bat: “Please, get us a hit. if you get us out of this i promise to stop making fun of you.”
TBF: “I’ll lay off you for a while. Not forever.”
In tribute to #44, who is regrettably on the DL after a great season so far down in New Orleans.
While I was one of the fans who felt that Lastings Milledge got a bad rap last year, I was also one of the fans that wasn’t particularly fond of some of the attitude I saw displayed (and I don’t mean the hand-slapping, either). But seeing him in Spring Training was like seeing a brand-new guy out there. In a funny story related to us by someone who works at Tradition Field (but will remain nameless), apparently Willie told Milledge to get a haircut. Overnight the dreadlocks vanished and Mr. Milledge became Mr. Clean-cut. Get well soon, buddy, you may be back up here sooner than you think.
What do I love about April baseball? I love that the stadium is empty, I love that it feels like my private club, I love that the lines are short and the section isn’t crowded and TBF and I can stretch across three seats and put our feet up on the back of the row in front of us. I love that most of the people who are at Shea are there because they give a damn (who else would voluntarily give up a Tuesday night to watch the Mets play the Rockies?!), I love a game that isn’t against an arch rival (like the Rockies) so that I can have more of a conversation with the people around us, whether it’s William and Andrew (the redheaded twins - finally! names! - behind us), or random people who are just near us for one game.
I love the common ritual, the repeat elements, singing “Meet The Mets” with gusto (I even know the second verse now), reciting the ground rules (now a “Special Message” from Carvel, the worst sponsor to be this time of year), and what I love is the sheer relaxation that falls on me the minute I reach Section 12 and sit down in my seat.
Click to continue reading SPEED KILLS [04-24-07]Dear Mets Team Store:
You might want to think about ordering a few CHAVEZ 10 t-shirts.
And jerseys.
And anything else with Endy’s name, face, or vital measurements on.
Just a thought.
xo,
MG
I have to get up in exactly six hours, so I will write about tonight’s game later. But they were chanting EN-DY-CHA-VEZ all the way down the ramps, onto the 7 train, and on the 7 train as we got off at 45th Road-Court Square. (I tried to keep the chant going at the bus stop but TBF shut me down.)
