Friday, May 11, 2007

METSGRRL STORE OPEN FOR BUSINESS.

Alyssa Milano, eat my dust. The first items in the MetsGrrl store are now available.

More coming this weekend.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

THE HOLD STEADY AND BASEBALL.

The Portland Mercury interviews Craig Finn of the Hold Steady about baseball and the Minnesota Twins. (Seriously, there’s not one music question in the thing.)

Here’s the best part (well, at least for me):

Are there a lot of people in the Minnesota music scene that are Twins fans?

Definitely. Especially the older crowd, like the Jayhawks and Golden Smog. I was at Twins’ spring training this year and I saw Paul Westerberg at the game.

What? [MG note: that was about my reaction, too, when I read this.]

I went down to Fort Meyers, Florida, for two games, and had a lot of fun. I was talking to this guy Jim Walsh, who is doing the Replacements oral history [MG again: WHAT?]and he told me Paul would be down there. I kind of had my eye out looking for him, and sure enough, he was there with his son. I’ve never met him before, so it didn’t seem like the right time to go bother him. It’s funny because even before we did “Take Me out to the Ball Game” for the Twins, I was at the Metrodome last year and noticed how great the music was during the games. They played a lot of the Replacements.

Okay. So the Metrodome plays the Replacements, and had the Hold Steady record “Take Me Out To The Ballgame” for them, and the Great American Ballpark plays the Afghan Whigs. Not only do I appreciate the hometown nod to the hometown band, I appreciate the little thing called RELEVANCY.

And we, at Shea, are being serenaded with freaking “Sweet Caroline” (he’s from BROOKLYN, don’t start).

What do we have to do to get some New York songs by New York bands played?  I mean, I appreciate that Yo La Tengo isn’t exactly going to get the crowd pumped up, but they can certainly make more of an effort. Do we not have the ability to branch out beyond classic rock?

“NOWHERE TO RUN, AIN’T GOT NOWHERE TO GO”

“Howard J. Rubenstein, the spokesman for the Yankees’ principal owner, George Steinbrenner, said the policy was an expression of patriotism.”

Reminds me of one of my favorite TBF quotes: “God blesses Bangladesh exactly as much as he blesses America.”

Wednesday, May 09, 2007

HAIRCUT 100.

[likely stealing this post title from the boys over at Misery Loves Company, but it was too good not to use]

So I could make some kind of witty comments about how when the Mets go to San Francisco, they can’t wear flowers in their hair any more, but that’s even below me. I know, I wasn’t supposed to watch the game, but plans got reshuffled and I didn’t have to get up at 5:30 after all (6:15 instead), and no matter what, I absolutely could watch the pre-game show.

“David Wright cut his HAIR?” That was TBF, not me.
From there, of course, the incredulity only grew.
We started trying to guess who would (and wouldn’t) cut their hair, or who had cut their hair.
I was backing Beltran from the outset, while TBF was dubious.
On the other hand, I couldn’t believe that Reyes wouldn’t (chicken!).

The pre-game finished, and I ran off to brush my teeth. TBF appeared in the bathroom door a few minutes later.
“The haircuts are working. I put it on pause.”

By the end of that first inning, the night before was just a bad dream. This is the Mets we know. This is how we do things.
I went to sleep with Howie on the radio and even one Barry Bonds home run couldn’t give me bad dreams.

We need to find a way to get out to AT&T Park, and soon. There is wi-fi in the entire stadium! And my friend Shirley told me tales of the past when Palm users could have the starting lined up beamed into their devices each game as they entered the park.
(TBF both loves and hates this idea. I told him that if he lived there, he’d get the lineup electronically, but then still keep the box score manually. He says I’m probably right.)
It kills me to think of all the times in the past I was in various cities on business (or pleasure) with time to kill, and all the ballgames and baseball parks I could have seen by now.

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

FRISCO BLUES.

This 10:15pm game start time kind of sucks. I was excited to see the OP-Zito matchup, and I totally thought I’d make it through. What I didn’t take into account was what would happen if we didn’t do well. It’s easy to fight sleepiness and agony when it’s 9pm. It’s a lot harder when it’s 11pm and the team is going from 3-1 to 6-1 (when I gave up) and then 9-1 (when I was brushing my teeth). I went to sleep with Howie on the radio, making the astute observation that the Mets looked tired, but it was only early May.

Yeah.

Add to all of this how unbearable TBF becomes when the Mets lose, and me getting cranky about the time Easley made that error, and then the two of us being mutually cranky at the Mets and each other:
“You said they were playing sloppy baseball!”
“But they were!”
“Not until you said they were!”
“You’re overreacting!”

To be fair to everyone involved, two bad home run calls on consecutive days would knock the wind out of me, too. On the other hand, I feel like I don’t know who the real Shawn Green is, and I will never, ever feel comfortable with Alou in left field, no matter how far and how often he hits.

David Wright. Needs to stop saying “yes” to every magazine cover and PR opportunity unless it’s for his charity foundation. I used to think - of course he’s going to take advantage of every opportunity, that’s exactly what he should be doing, who knows when the spotlight will stop shining. But now - I won’t blame all of the distractions for the slump but I feel like something’s gotta give.

Finally, was anyone else as disappointed at the SNY “Take the 7 Train to shea with Joe Smith” segment as we were? Maybe if they hadn’t hyped it up so much and just showed it as color, but aside from the technical problems (did no one think about the issues of lighting and sound before you got on the subway?), the segment had so much potential but ended up being long and bland. Plus, he doesn’t take the 7 train, ever - he drives (hence the constant parking tickets) - so I’m not quite sure what the point was. Hey, dude, Glavine and Wagner carpool from Greenwich, you and Johnny Maine could share the drive from LIC.

I will miss the game tonight because I have to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow, and we’re going to see Arcade Fire at Radio City on Wednesday night - so there go my game-viewing options for the next two days. I can’t tell whether this will make me more or less cranky. But, provided we survive the rest of the week, we’ll be at Shea Friday night to watch the Mets play the Brewers.

Monday, May 07, 2007

ROCKET TO RUSSIA.

I am sitting in my home office, working, when I hear something coming from TBF’s computer. The now-infamous Suzyn Waldman - exclamation - of A Certain Pitcher’s return to the Bronx. (In this house, this individual truly is He Who Shall Not Be Named.)
“I heard that last night on WFAN,” I tell him.
TBF appears in the doorway.
“It’s terrible,” I continue.
“See, people are saying things, and I could say things, but I don’t want people to think I’m an icky guy.”
“You’re not. It’s terrible. It sounds like she’s having an orgasm.”
“That’s what other people are saying, only not so nice.”
“Yeah. Well. It’s terrible. I’m embarrassed.”
“I think you should write about it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”

When I first got into all of this, I remember TBF telling me there was a female radio announcer for the Yankees, and that she was, unfortunately, not very good. And part of me feels like, damn, this is one hard profession to want to be in that badly, and then the other part of me listens to the occasional Yankee broadcast and asks TBF, “Do I hate her because she’s announcing for the Yankees, or just because she’s not very good?”

That call yesterday was terrible. It was over the top, excessive, and embarrassing, because all the icky guys out there are going to take advantage of it to make every piggish comment they can possibly make. By all means, show emotion, by all means, convey to the fan listening on the radio the feeling of the moment in the stadium.  By all means, do not be a bland blonde bimbo, freely display your intelligence and personality.

That call, unfortunately,  did none of those things.

And now I just want this to be over with, because TBF’s middle finger is going to fall off from his need to brandish it every time we see Clemens’ face anywhere, and now his arrival is going to overshadow anything that happens the weekend after next, even if he’s nowhere near Flushing.

[Audio link via Toasted Joe.]

Saturday, May 05, 2007

THE NY TIMES INVESTIGATES:

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 ***?

LET A MAN COME IN AND DO THE POPCORN (PART 1)

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.

Friday, May 04, 2007

EASLEY DOES IT.

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.

FRIDAY PHOTO. [5-4-07]

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.