Thursday, May 31, 2007

LOLYankees

First, we had the wonder that is LOLCats.

Now LOLYankees, courtesy east village idiot.

MUST see. Do not view with liquids in your mouth.

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

“DOWN BY THE BAY, THE FOLKS ALL SAY… [5-29-07]

...Love that Crazy Crab!”

I will begin by apologizing in advance for my obsession with the former San Francisco Giants anti-mascot, the Crazy Crab. My delight in anthropomorphism in baseball mascots would better suit a three-year-old, I realize. But, if you are not familiar with the Crab, I urge you to follow the link and edify yourself. If nothing else, it will distract you from Wedneday night’s massacre, and explain the headlines for the last two days.

But we are here to discuss Tuesday night’s jubiliation. More, including photos, after the jump.

LOVE THAT CRAZY CRAB. [5-29-07]

Well, crap. Flickr is down and it’s late and I can’t write and edit photos and get to bed at a decent hour, plus there’s nowhere to upload the photos anyway - so here are some shots I took tonight that will have to hold you over until tomorrow:

As much as I wanna see Zito pitch, ain’t gonna happen. This grrl is way too tired.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

ANOTHER YEAR WITH NOTHIN’ TO DO.

Game 3 of the 1969 World Series. I might have been just old enough to remember this game on tv. Surely, my father watched it.

I asked TBF to record it, even though he is not a big guy for historical games: “I care about what the Mets are doing now,” is his usual response. It is curious because it’s not like he’s ignorant of baseball history or couldn’t tell you the Mets lineup for just about any year you could choose. At least now I recognize the names, not just of the Mets but even some of the Orioles.

I will be honest and say my curiosity wasn’t just about watching the game (although I am incredibly eager to watch a game where Seaver is pitching), it was seeing shea, how it has changed (and not changed). The people in the crowd. Men wearing suits and ties (and hats!) women in dresses. The size and openness of the bullpen. THe open fences at the back of the stadium, which, while following a fly ball, allow you to see the cars in the parking lot. The ushers, wearing bright red uniforms and formal, bus-driver-style hats. The sign guy, putting every lame-o at Shea this year (or any year, likely) to shame (how is it that his signs look so much better in 1969, when everything had to be done by hand, than in 2006, when things can be programmed and printed for pennies?). The scoreboard. The sponsors. The lack of sponsors. The VIP’s in the VIP boxes (former Chief Justice Warren made TBF very happy, although seeing Joe DiMaggio is unquestionably cool).

And yes, the baseball, how it has changed and not changed. How 38 years have gone by and I can still follow and understand the game.

We watched about five innings and then saved it for later. I really do want to watch the whole thing from start to finish, especially to watch Nolan Ryan come out in the 7th inning. And then maybe I can talk to my dad about it the next time I see him.

Saturday, May 26, 2007

WE INTERRUPT YOU FOR A VERY SPECIAL BULLETIN.

WE INTERRUPT THIS EPISODE OF “SLOPPY BASEBALL TONIGHT” FOR A VERY SPECIAL BULLETIN!

MIAMI PREPARES FOR MARTINEZ-MANIA:
Here, the Mets SP points out the correct location that the team should be hitting balls in.

PEDRO MARTINEZ PREPARES TO SURRENDER TO UTTER INCOMPETENCE DISPLAYED BY TEAMMATES ON THE FIELD:
Says, “Yo, amigos, I don’t want to come back and play for a team that can’t even be bothered to run a fucking foul ball down to first base just in case it goes fair.”

THIS HAS BEEN A VERY SPECIAL BULLETIN. THANK YOU FOR JOINING US ON YET ANOTHER EVENING OF “SLOPPY BASEBALL TONIGHT”.
We hope to fucking hell there isn’t a repeat tomorrow.

Friday, May 25, 2007

GIRLS, GIRLS, GIRLS

As I walked down Third Avenue towards The Back Page and the SNY viewing party, I passed a nail salon. I looked at my nails, sighed, and reached a conclusion.
Zoe was waiting for me out front, pink cap and all.
“I have a brilliant idea,” I announced.
“Yes?”
“A nail salon with big screen tv’s… showing the baseball game. Or the football game. Or the basketball game.”
Zoe gave me her adorable frown.
“It’s a bar?”
“We could also serve drinks.”
“Guys can come too?”
“They could, but it’s more of a chick place.”
“You want to open a salon?”
“No, I want *someone else* to open it so I can go there. I need a manicure, but I hate girlie crap and want to watch the damn game. Can’t I multi-task?”
Luckily, Coop showed up a few minutes later, someone bought me a beer, and the game started shortly after that.

FRIDAY PHOTO.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

Bat Girl retires

This has nothing to do with the Mets, but it has everything to do with this blog, and how and why I started writing a baseball blog. I stumbled onto Bat Girl a few years ago - back in 2004 - when she began the innovation known as “Legovision” - TBF having a soft spot in his heart for Legos, and add baseball - well, there you go.

She announced today that she is shutting the blog down, due to many circumstances, foremost of which is the birth of her son.

If you’ve never read her site before, now is the time. Her writing about baseball is everything I aspire to be, and everything I am not - yet.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

INSERT LAME OLIVER PEREZ CLICHE HERE.

5th inning, after D. Wright’s home run, I slowly raised my arms above my head in an arc-like shape, and bounced up and down.
“What’s that?” TBF asked, carefully.
“The home run apple!”
“Um, okay.”
“Okay, you gotta compliment me, or mock me.”
“Honey, that’s pretty lame.”
“Oh, come on.”
“Ingenious, but lame.”

We started off the game tonight debating the lineup change. While we were both fine with moving Delgado, I still wasn’t sure I didn’t want Lo Duca batting second (and yes I saw the 2nd vs. 7th stats too, I just think that maybe Jose feels protected or confident knowing that Lo Duca will always come on to move him over). Conversations I couldn’t even think about having a year ago, TBF no longer bats an eye, instead cautions me that we need to figure out what we do when we start to have virulent disagreements, “Now that you know what you’re talking about.” It is likely only a matter of time until the first door-slamming, cat-hiding-under-the-bed baseball disagreement.

Oliver Perez! What’s not to like? He’s self-effacing, he isn’t cocky, he loves what he’s doing and he acts like he’s thrilled to be an ace. I would like to order myself an OP shirt, but TBF already did (I opted for CHAVEZ 10), and we try really hard to not acquire identical items of Mets-related clothing. As it is, we’re still not sure whether wearing our WRIGHT 5 jerseys (mine road black, his classic pinstripes) is cute or, well, g-h-e-y.

And Joe Smith! That inning was a joy to watch - strength, precision, power. BOOM! He’s the subject of adoration over at Billy’s blog today.

Coop and Zoe are trying to get me out of the house tomorrow for the SNY thing. We’ll see.

Monday, May 21, 2007

NEW YORK GROOVE.

So I didn’t go to Sunday night’s game. Both TBF and I got second chances from the Mets, and although we evaluated our ticket options, on Friday, we were all about “Let’s save that money for a game that really matters”.

Friday night, as I wrestled with 350+ photos from BP and the game, and tried to wrestle my words into something worthwhile, TBF announces that he thinks he wants to go to the game. Crankiness ensues. We sleep on it. He still wants to go. I tell him to go, and then relent. My reluctance was based on the need to start with a new employer on Monday morning, and knowing just how bright eyed and bushy tailed I am after a windy night in the upper deck watching an 8pm game.

Saturday night, we found two singles in adjoining upper boxes, and then I finally realize I just can’t do it and tell him to go. Crankily, I drive him to the 7 train. Crankily, I take up position on the couch with the cat. Crankily, I ordered chinese and endured ESPN commentary, while firing txt messages at TBF.  I had planned to turn off the TV around 10:30 and turn on Howie and Ed, and then we were near the end and I was already crankier, but knew it was probably better to just finish watching it.

All things considered, the game I wish I’d changed my last minute plans to see was Wednesday night’s game, finding myself out in Jackson Heights for Indian food at about 7:30, and TBF texting me to say, “Come on out! Rain delay until 9:15!” I didn’t go because I was tired and wearing work clothes, but should’ve said “fuck it,” bought a sweatshirt at the team store, and sat with TBF to watch midnight baseball. That’s a better memory than any Subway Series.