Monday, June 18, 2007

THE ALICE’S RESTAURANT ANTI-MASSACRE MOVEMENT. [6-17-07]

TBF declares, “The worst loss of the season.” I am hard-pressed to disagree with him, although I tried. It was a game of poor pitching, missed opportunity after missed opportunity, lack of drive or morale or ambition or anything resembling THE DESIRE TO WIN SOME [EXPLETIVE DELTED] GAMES FOR A CHANGE! Reyes stealing when he shouldn’t have stolen. Beltran continuing on that trend of hitting popups. Delgado NOT FUCKING HITTING! There was nothing, repeat, nothing to redeem this game. At all. I challenge you, please, go ahead and try. Wait, the really great seats TBF got us. (Thanks again, honey.)

Lo Duca getting thrown at.
Idiot Yankee fan makes a comment about Ray Ramirez coming on the field.
Idiot Mets fan in front of us: “I’m a Mets fan, and I agree with you.”
TBF: “He was sent out by the dugout, he didn’t call for it. You get hit in the back by a 98mph fastball and then tell me how much it doesn’t hurt.”
MG: “Lo Duca is the toughest guy on the Mets. If he’s hurt, he’s hurt.”
Later, when Castro substituted for Lo Duca, I loudly made a comment about people who made such a big deal about Lo Duca being dramatic about getting hit. I know he heard me, although he didn’t acknowledge it, but it made me feel better.

Idiot Yankee fan, about half a dozen times during the course of the game, forte:
“When I say Duque, you say SUCKS. Duque!”
[silence]
“Well, that worked well,” TBF would comment under his breath.

This banner kept making an appearance tonight.
“I don’t get it,” says the blank-jersey-wearing girl next to me, who so clearly didn’t know what the hell was going on, ever, and cheered at the slightest thing, including giving Jeter a standing O for getting a single.
“Flushing,” her boyfriend said.
She looked at him, frowning.
“Like a toilet,” he continued.
“I’m so glad he took the time to explain that to us,” I say, under my breath.
“Honey, she really *didn’t* get it,” TBF says.
Later, when the banner came out again, I would comment loudly about what a great value it is to teach your child homophobia.
TBF: “What are you talking about?”
“Flushing Queens, get it?”
“It’s the city.”
“Thank you so much for explaining that to me, because I didn’t know that. That’s not what he means.”
“Honey, I don’t think he’s that smart.”
A pause. “You’re probably right.”

I am pleased to report that I got up and walked around during “God Bless America,” and I am particularly proud of this fact. (TBF did the same thing on Friday night.)

And you know, you sit there trying to be dignified, and not cheer out of proportion, but still, you want to cheer, but they - the Yankees Universe, every one of them - are so overbearing and full of themselves and half of them don’t even know a goddamn thing about baseball. And that would be fine, too, if they didn’t pretend that they did.  There were enough Mets fans around us to prevent any kind of group idiocy, and we didn’t let ourselves get truly cranky until we were walking back to the subway after the show, and the crowds and the morons imitating John Sterling as we walked down the escalators, and the various permutations on “Mets Suck” (with the “Come talk to us when you clean up your own house” answers were all loudly ignored).

When we finally got on the 4 train, finding a spot to stand in front of some Mets fans, the air conditioning was helpful, despite the moron trying to get the “Hit Hit Jorge” chant going, except substituting “Jose” instead. We got our revenge when the Mets fans sitting down got off at 149th and made sure they did so in such a way to ensure that TBF and I got their seats, much to the consternation of some Yankees fans who had clearly been eyeing them.

To amuse ourselves on the ride to 14th Street and the L train, we played hangman. For your enjoyment, I present to you our game playing sheet:

PERSONAL TO THE NY METS: The Twins are scrappy motherfuckers and if you do not get your collective shit together this week they will take full advantage of every opportunity you give them and will beat the stuffing out of you. Get it together before you embarrass yourselves completely.

Love,
MG