1995 Wildcard - Game 2!!
October 4th, 1995 - Yankees host the Mariners
The Leyritz home run game!
Handwriting is a little more sloppy on this scorecard, so I obviously found some time for pregame drinks, whereas I did not partake before game 1. But it is all highly legible, so I was coherent and lucid, unlike, say, game 6 of the 1996 World Series...but we'll get to that in due time.
The cynical bastards that we were, we were already joking about the bunting adorning the tiers. We were already tired of looking at it, and thinking about it now it was something we grew to completely take for granted. "Looks like Grandma sewed that fu*king stuff." someone said.
"Welcome to the fu*king show!" howled the burly Captain Bob, with both beefy arms held aloft. I remember when he got so excited about the Yankees even getting a sniff of first place during a regular season campaign...I have a picture at home of Captain Bob holding up a newspaper aloft in the street by the Stadium, with Jim Abbott pitching on the back cover, with the headline tag, "Hey,Abbott, Yankees are in first!" And there is Bob in the picture, with the biggest shit-eating grin ever, celebrating a first-place tie in the month of July...did not take much to please a Yankee fan in the dark days.
Phil Rizzuto threw out the first pitch, which caused people to yammer on and on about how much he was missed in the TV booth. There was a guy going topless on this cool, drizzly night, but knowing he was inviting trouble in his attempt to get on TV he had "I'm an asshole" painted in blue paint on his back. "What an asshole" we muttered, as he walked by.
While we settled in we discussed our pregame activities, which included a "God bless the bowling alley bathroom" from me. Hell, they just closed down that bowling alley this year of 2010, and I wanted to out there to light candles and hold vigil. There had been a guy walking around outside the Stadium beforehand, gladhanding and drinking out of a bag, dressed as the Pope with big Pope hat and everything. We looked around for him in the bleachers as he was last seen by the gate, but to no avail. "He must be in Stans, drinking out of the almighty chalice" someone speculated.
I gave a nod to the true old-schoolers who were on hand. From Captain Bob to our loud friend Kevin, Animal to Elder George, Queen Bee Tina to Cowbell King Ali, and a cast of thousands that "no one wants" - it was all for them. Tina was on seat patrol, and got into quite the spat over a corner seat that she would not relinquish. "What, is your name on that seat?" one guy snapped, to which Tina shot right back with "as a matter of fact, now that you mention it..."
I see where we were hung up over a bad call on the field for a while. It even got a "bull-fu*king-shit" out of someone named Joey three different times. Someone blamed it on us all standing up during the play. "Every time we stand up, something bad happens." he grumbled. Wish I could have introduced him to Junior years down the line, who would stand up at something as meaningless the appearance of a bird. Regarding the call on the field, someone shouted, "Ump, you couldnt lead Ray Charles through the forest! You asshole!"
We were keeping a running tab on bad umpire calls, and it reached 3. And, in quite the coincidence, Buck Showalter made 3 different appearances on the field to question calls on that cool October evening.
A fistfight actually broke out, and to no one's surprise our very own Animal was involved. I wrote down an abridged play by play - a guy was arguing over a seat, Animal told him to get to stepping, he went after Animal, and a third guy jumped in. Well, first guy and third guy gone, Animal gets to stay. Amazing how that worked in our own gated community out there.
"Bear Ass", my tagalong stuffed bear, was back on hand, with the Yankees record with him now on hand standing at 12-1. The unthinkable happened as he dissapeared at exactly 8:08, and I thought he was stolen and cut to shreds for shits and giggles, but he reappeared at 8:20. In a comic note, I handed him off to one of the old crew to "babysit." The babysitter on that night? Some fine chap named John Hughes. You know, the guy that was later "arrested for counterfeiting money." This was a story I made up years later to explain his sudden dissapearance. Of course years laster he shows back up, and everyone thinks he just got out of jail for counterfeiting money. Meanwhile, he was out getting an education.
He ended up autographing the scorecard (another bad gimmick bought back for the playoffs) as did Syphills Joe, who even added the tagline, "Syphillis....it all started with a simple kiss!"
This game went deep, into the 15th, and by the time I got to page 2 "The Pope" from outside reappeared. "Jesus Christ, the Pope is here!" someone howled, bemused. By then the ground beneath our feet was covered in a sea of empty beer cups and George, among others, proudly announced, "after we win, these cups are going that way" - pointing either to the field or to the people in front of us that annoyed us all night by standing up for all the wrong reasons.
When I remember in my head some of the funny lines over time and recount the simplicity of some of our wit and humor, this one always came to mind, and it was from this very night....a guy with a Gilligan hat was one of those people standing up and blocking our view at all the wrong times, and finally fed up with it someone shouted, "Down in front, Little Buddy!"
Its amazing at how, even during a playoff game, we could find time to argue about something dumb, or wonder about stupid minutia that has nothing to do with the task at hand. After a couple of innings of seeking out the answer we finally learned that the song that "Dancing Homer" did his thing to was in fact called "The Baby Elephant Dance."
I went through both sides of the scorecard during this extra inning tilt, and Page 2 has the 11th through the 15th innings, and even that late we were still grousing about the umps. "The ump needs to get out of here early, he has to get up in the morning for umpire school." someone reasoned. "Even the OJ jury would not find those umps innocent of killing us" someone chirped in. "This is a tragedy...a debaucle" someone surmised.
But all is well that ends well. I dont remember exactly what happened, but leading into Leyritz' home run apparently the Yankees got handed an "even-up call." "I can hear the ump now" someone said just before Leyritz laid into one. "Games over, Yankees win, go home."
You always get some of these...I had to comment on the spate of people that actually got up, collected their coats, and left with a 4-4 playoff game in front of them. I understand the game ended up at 1:20 in the morning, but come on now...
And after that ending, one of the moments out there that will stay with me FOREVER, maybe the first one I experienced of dozens of magical moments the next few years. 10 minutes of celebrating in the rain, singing to New York New York, hugs and handshakes, dancing on the benches, slipping off and falling down, only to clamber up again. Someone passed around a flask, and we struggled to light soggy cigars. But that singing....I will never forget the Stadium singing in unison, and our high hopes for the rest of the playoffs. And it was incredible to spend it with that crew that was out there on that night, in that fashion. Good times, good times...
I'll make this quick. You dont need a recap from me on a playoff game, and this is long already. Here are your starting lineups for posterity...the Yankees marched out 3B Boggs, CF BW, RF O'Neill, DH Sierra (a few "where's Strawberry"s were uttered despite Sierra's monster spurts), 1B Mattingly, LF Dion James (lol), C Leyritz, SS Fernandez, and 2B Velarde. Your Yankee hurlers on the night were Pettitte, Wickman, Wetteland, and Rivera, who went 3.1 innings of scoreless ball to notch the W just a day after I had written down that he was not eligible for the playoff roster.
And Sierra did it AGAIN. Another home run, and for the second time in a matter of weeks a home run right to our little gaggle out there in Section 39. Don Mattingly, in the middle of his last stand, followed that with a home run of his own, there to lead off the 6th, and put the crowd all agog.
The Mariners countered with LF Coleman, SS Sojo, CF Griffey, DH E Martinez, RF Buhner, 3B Blowers, 1B Tino, C Wilson, and 2B Cora. That pesky bastard. On the hill we saw Andy Benes, Bill Risley, Charlton, Jeff Nelson, and of course, Timothy Belcher, who belched up the winning HR.
5 hours and 12 minutes to play. Yes, 5 hours and 12 minutes. 57,126 on hand, with no less than 678,203 claiming they were there that night currently. Your umpires on hand were none other than Dale Scott, Jim McKean, Larry McCoy, Rich Garcia, Mike Reilly, and the ever-popular Jim Joyce.
And THAT puts a wrap on the playoffs of 1995. And what comes next but 1996.....the jokes will become more biting, the characters the more vivid, the beer even better.
See you soon with your first installments of the wild ride that was 1996!!!!!!!!
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