THE ANNALS OF AUGUST 2001
The FIRST Hawaiian Shirt Night! The LAST Dave Winfield Day!
"I love the Tom drum...whats your name again?"
Tuesday, August 14th, 2001 - Yankees vs. Tampa Bay
With Tampa Bay in town it was an easier ticket to get than a peeing in public one, and I have enough of those, so most of the regular crowd shuffled in. An old man was sitting next to me, making love to his tonic and gin.
Talk turned to the upcoming Hawaiin Shirt night, and where to pick up the offending outfits. Someone mentioned a magical bodega-ish sort of place where you could "get a Hawaiin shirt, a number 6 with white rice, and an umbrella all in the same trip" I decided I needed to visit this fantasyland, as Bad Mouth Larry horiffically warbled a croaking "Yo!!!!.....Beeeeernie!!!!!" to kick off the roll call, proving just how out of practice he was. "Someone shoot that old horse." we heard someone mutter after Larry's wretched display.
A pack of nerdy guys ambled up, prompting the always jolly Little Mike to yap, "finish your math problems later - find your seats now!" Larry stolled over to his little adversary Mike, extended his hand, and said as greeting, "what's up, can I squash you like a grape?"
It was the first inning and the crowd was already turning on Jeter in surly fashion for whatever reason. The prickly heat was probably getting to them. "Come on, pretty boy, get a hit!" Junior hollered. "Hey, sorry, you can't order champagne out there!!" Little Mike added.
Diggety Dan placidly sat eating creamy white ice cream out of a ridiculous little Yankee helmet cup. When this was pointed out to "Mr. Make It Happen" Phil, he snidely said with a wink and a grin, "That's not ice cream."
This soon became photo night for me at least, as I spent a high propensity of the game gazing through photos handed to me from Bald Ray, the new bride Lindsay, and Nicole of security-duty fame. Interestingly noticed that in Nicole's pics, I noticed the girls can pose jollily with the Toronto Blue Jay mascot in friendly international peace, but in contrast us guys riled up a guy in a cow suit so much he gives us a finger, or a hoof, every time we step to a Staten Island Yankee game . And even as I leafed through yet even more pictures of Ray in compromising positions with bottles of beer, Security Honcho "Honeymooner" Sean, Ralph Kramden lookalike extraordinaire, plodded up to confiscate a plastic horn from an overzealous, or drunk, fan near the top rows. Of course he was met with a crescendo of appeals to "play us a tune on it Sean!" but he beat a hasty retreat, crumpled horn in hand.
Meanwhile Grover was the life of the party. Between calling all his fellow white men "crackers" and "white boy" he pawed through his odd collection of Bazooka Joe comics with all the jokes in Israeli. Stupid things were going on above us on the scoreboard, as Fox News Channel's conservative talking head Bill O'Reilly was actually asking Bad News Bears Trivia questions up there. Following that, a Mickey Mantle tribute video was played, with the background music of "Hey Mickey!" from Toni Basil, whose sole claim to fame was making me very horny when I was 11 in her silly cheerleader costume. Very disrespectful. To top it off, bullpen stalwart and Texas native Randy Choate had to actually answer a dumb question about the Alamo from a fan with nothing else to do but send in questions about the Alamo to a guy who pitches mop-up for a living. I am not sure what Choate said in response, but it may have sounded like, "I did not shoot any Mexicans."
For some reason a USA! USA! chant started, prompting Grover, just looking to be on the other side of every issue to rankle others, to yell, "Boooo!!! We should have lost the Cold War!!!"
Meanwhile, out on the field, where rumor has it the reason we show up is being played out for all to see, a ball clanked off Clay Bellinger's glove, providing the birth of the "way to Bellinger it!" prop to errors. This went on to supercede the old "Thanks a lot, Knoblauch!" whenever a Yankee commited a boner on the field.
Junior was feeling vibrant, hopping up and down every time the count reached 2 strikes, which is like every batter if you really think about it. This popping up and down prompted us to dub him a "Jack-off in the box." A beefy blonde fan next to him, who looked a bit like Chris Jericho, Edge, Christian, Test, and HHH all at once was greeted with "way to be a generic blonde wrestler lookalike" by Muttssuckballs Marc. As all this was going on, the Yankees win, theeeeeeeee Yankees win!!!! (Geez, that is as annoying to type as it is to listen to, although winning does rock). Next game please.
Wednesday, August 15th, 20001 - Yankees vs. Tampa Bay
With also rans Tampa Bay still polluting our town, security figured there would be so little interest in the nights proceedings they only had one bleacher gate open to enter through. So I spent the better part of the first inning in line trying to get in and leafing through Raw Magazine, which is wrestling, not porno for once. The first thing I saw upon entering the Stadium was someone eating corn on the cob, so I figured this was going to be one of those nights.
15 year old Cactus James was running around annoying the public, with a thin mustache that looked like it was put on by eye liner. I told him to get some milk to cover it, and he could shave it off by having a cat lick the milk. Cactus was in rare form, arguing with a few latecomers and stolidly asserting his weight. (all 110 pounds of it)
It was bottle opener night, and of course me being the biggest alcoholic out there I someow managed to not get one. Even people who hand out cheap props at the gate don't want to encourage me, I guess. However, practically a dozen fans volunteered theirs to me as they apparently find me entertaining either drunk and sleeping or fighting the innocent, so rest assured, I can open Saranac bottles for life after that nights giveaway.
Diggety Dan, fresh off his ice cream helmet cup travesty the night before, was munching a pretzel with so much salt on it that I believe it was Phil that said the pillars of salt on it would come in handy to "in the event of snow."
A fan booed as David Justice was intentionally walked in the 3rd, explaining it away by saying "any man who beats Halle Berry is ok with me."
This game was a romp, and the guy in the music booth upstairs was in such a subsequent good mood he dusted off and played "My Sharona" which of course became "My Bologna" in a spontaneous tribute to songster maven Weird Al. Although we noticed the chick factor was "down 200% from last night" while the little kid factor was "up 500%" we made due. As I shared pleasantries with Bald Vinny near the end of the Yank spank, a fan of mine came over for a picture together and said, "You're the best, I'm a big fan of the Tom drum...what's your name again?" No joke.
A guy in a referee type shirt then leaned in from the loge seats to see what was going on, and heard a cacophony of "Time out!" calls and signals for holding and false starts. Well, that seems to be all on that game. Forward march.
Friday, August 17th, 2001 - Hawaiin Shirt Night (T. Bay)
Well, it was weeks in the planning, but the fruits of our labor finally came to fruition, as Hawaiin Shirt night commenced in Section 39. Most guys thought it was a gag on them all along, and they would arrive to be the only one showing up and looking like an ass, only to pull up to the gates of Yancey Park to see a dozen guys, beer in bags, bedecked in the ugliest collection of shirts since the 1970's era Houston Astros. Palm trees, tropical drinks, boats, sand dunes. But for some reason 41's shirt had cars on it. Could have been worse, could have been KISS on there. Walkman John, missing the point, had an Oriental theme, albeit colorful. Bald Ray was wearing a mesh Hawaiin shirt, I had never even heard of such a thing. "Fat Rak" Scott topped all, with a Hawaiin colored shirt with women playing golf on it. In one of the more blatant oddites, Phil and "I'm not Israeli" Joe had the SAME SHIRT ON, and anyone who went in to buy one of these and saw how many hundreds were on every rack knows how strange a fact that really is. The fact these two had no use for one another made it even more amusing.
Strolling in that night we noticed Security Codger Old Man 200 had been demoted, as his stupid security baseball cap now has the number 175 on it. "Way to slide 25 spots" we hollered in greeting. He got me back an inning later, accusing me of "misdirecting" people who could not find thier seats, only to spark a snippy exchange with Tina the Queen, who was in fine form and fighting with everyone like in the old days. Crazy Dave roamed around passing out pictures, so I dubbed him "Johnny Photoseed."
Just about 30 Creatures went with the theme, complete with Ignorant Evan handing out lei's and Metssuckballs waving around the Tiki that F'd with the Brady Bunch on those Hawaiin episodes of lore. Bald Vinny proudly announced he had his hula girl boxers on and showed them proudly on the 4 train out of there.
Basically, according to my notes, these names will go down for posterities sake as participating...Uptown Mike, Phil, Walkman John, Little Mike, Big Tone Capone, Bald Ray, Bald Vinny, Cowbell Man Milton, 41, Diggety Dan, the future-Navy Tommy, 2 guys I do not really know, me, Justin, Metssuckballs, Cuban Monica, Felix, Fat Rak and his friend Paul, Blonde Rachel, Ignorant Evan, Water Girl Debbie, X-pac Kenny, Kwik, "I am not Israeli" Joe, Stacey, my future sister-in-law Laura, and Frankie Vybe. Junior missed the boat, despite the fact that he seems to wear a Hawaiin shirt every other day he shows up. Donald also went un-Hawaiin, but I was too afraid to ask him why. And of course, Mike Donahuge was not there even though this was the brainchild of he and I. Ironically enough he was in Florida on a beach (posing for pictures from wayward whale watchers, most like) but the show must go on and without him, it did, though it was pretty much his idea in the first place.
The shirts themselves went over as expected, they were met with disgust. I went over in 37 to rap with chicks, and the concensus over in that section was that Little Mike had the worst shirt, some sort of red-based analogram of putridity. My shirt was an orange hue, but going in I had a goal, I wanted natives on my shirt. Along with the requisite boats and oceans, my shirt featured some native folk climbing trees for no reason. Sad to say, these were an ugly lot of natives, the same color as the coconuts they held aloft. One native was sitting behind a mound of coconuts, which looked more like a drum set. Wounded have sounded great with the horn Honeymooner Sean destroyed earlier in the homestand. People immediatly deemed the shirt "racist" saying they may have well just put cotton on it when they made the shirt.
Late in the game the girls in 37 pointed out that one of the guys on a boat in my shirt had a strange protrusion extending from his shadowed self, and upon closer inspection, yes - I must admit I had a Hawaiin shirt on featuring a guy on a sailboat seemingly with a rampant boner.
The game was nondescript despite the fact that in a non-drinking phase I killed off 6 Gatorades and Cowbell clank Milton ushered in the return of the RKB 2000 ("Rally Killing Bell 2000 as dubbed by Gang Bang Steve) as every time he clanked on this night we rapped into a double play. Oh, also there was an Eddie Munster lookalike who did a rousing version of the Cotton Eye Joe dance, but that was it.
The postgame was even more amusing, as Diggety Dan was drunk and in an inviting mood. He coaxed a score of us down to his place to "swim in his pool" and "drink a lot." Dan was way ahead of us even still at the Stadium, swigging beer and letting it cascade down his chest in his best "Stone Cold Steve Austin" impersonation, which was a pretty bad one.
The ride down on the 4 was priceless, mainly cause I was sober and I remember it. First there was a sign on the train from the Pork Board (I would love to chair THOSE meetings) with the hokey slogan "I scream, you scream, we all scream for pork loins." - Um, ok. Sure we do.
Bald Vinny, in his zest to make a needless point whomped his head on a subway pole, only to be followed by Dan doing the same thing moments later. Basically once down to his apartment things got out of hand with the likes of Pops and Milton diving on top of one another and myself in the blowup pool, beer and gatorade being dumped in the cloudy seas of water, and near fisticuffs between the always bombastic "Big Tone Capone" Anthony G and everyone else.
SATURDAY, AUGUST 18 - Yankees vs. Mariners
Dave Winfield Day. Ceremony was to be as expected, with Queen Bee Tina breaking into tears twice, and the pompous John Sterling using such flowery verbiage as "donned the pinstripes", "blossomed", and "exemplary."
We sat through the ceremonies, Teddy and I side by side complaining about everything in the world, and watched Don Mattingly get an ovation twice as loud as Big Daves on his own day. Cuban Monica scored an autograph as the Don waited down in the ramp to drive a gift car to the plate, which I offered to trade a dance with me for. Needless to say, it is still her ball. "They should have held this ceremony in May." Bad Mouth Larry quipped, scoring off the infamous Steinbrenner "Mr. May" tag. Of course Winfield kissed pinstriped Yankee ass during the speech, but as many rightfully grumbled he "still went into the Hall as a Padre."
The Ichiro Suzuki jokes abounded in fine fashion. The Mike who sits down near the front, in retort to a Japanese homosexual tag hollered off of a translation sheet we printed off the computer, claimed Ichiro could not be gay as he was a "real man's lady." I bought out my old line saying that the worst thing about Ichiro manning right field is that every time an inning ends he leaves a menu behind.
After getting kudos for my S.O.D. shirt from Bald Vinny (Milano Mosh for life) I settled in for the ongoing, and ultimately boring, ceremony. Winfield got some dumb gifts, including a treadmill and a pogo stick for his kid. I immediatly made a note to self to go pogo stick shopping. Capone was down on the rail chatting up a cop for some reason, prompting Bald Ray to hop up and yell, "Hey, get off his blackjack!!" Business as usual in 39.
Teddy was leading rollcall today, and it went without incident until we made our way to third base, and he boomed out a bombastic "Scott Brosius!" instead of a tepid "Clay Bellinger!" with Clay manning the sack and Brosius riding pine. Got to love the rollcall blooper.
Bad Mouth Larry came down to join Angry Teddy and I in complaining about everything, bedecked in a Gran Teton shirt. "I have a Gran Teton hat at home, too." he said with unabashed glee and oddly enough no shame. At this moment an Oriental woman (oops, wait, RUGS are Oriental, PEOPLE are Asian...)swooped up and ushered him out of his seat, and it all happened so fast I told him he was "Pearl Harbored."
Joe Torre was introduced, which must have thrilled him to death cause there were cameras and a microphone on hand, to hand Winfield some sort of useless proclomation, prompting a bored fan who had enough of it to boo. Tina went bezerk, hopping up to physically threaten the man, adding the famous quip, "I LIKE to get arrested!" This harried attack actually prompted to the guy to cheer the next guy introduced, Bobby Murcer, like he was Jesus Christ making bread rain from the sky, just to escape her rage. At this point, I think he would have popped for Dion James, Dale Mohorcic, or Wayne Tolleson. But maybe not Tucker Ashford.
Tina was in fine form, after some Japanese chick hollered out that Ichiro was God she snapped "God is not Japanese!!" "No, he's black." someone retorted from the back, prompting yet someone else to question wether or not God is unemployed then.
Behind us a string of rowdies on stop number 1 of a frenetic Bachelor Party were looking in vain for a strip club to check out later, being Mayor and resident party pooper Rudy G closed them all and I know all about it. Someone mentioned the village, which oddly provoked a strangely bitter Junior to grumble that there are "a lot of faggots in the Village." These guys were a Hell of a lot of fun, and promised to make the Stadium an annual visit, as they enjoyed our mix of supreme fandom and theatrical carnivality. (EDITORS NOTE 10 years later - they were never seen again)
Soon enough, as I went down the aisle to wish Nicole a Happy Birthday and ask her to pop out of a cake for us, a USA USA chant sparked up due to Ichiro's annoying presence on the field. What was funny about this one was a bunch of the Japanese in attendance merrily chanted along, in between taking pictures and planning on driving badly later of course.
This is the annoying game that saw us fall behind 7-1 by the 2nd inning, prompting a madcap argument between Stat Man and Tina, which had more comedic value than even the "Cripple Fight" on South Park. Of course we came back to pull within 7-6, only to lose anyway.
I got to do a wild Rocky reenactment, and even ended up hurting my arm doing it, throwing shadow boxes at Bald Ray's outstretched hands for the sake of the scoreboard cam. Only I can hurt my arm in a bit that really consists of running up stairs and being doused with literal bucketloads of water.
The highlight of the Rocky dance to me was not the mention on Fox 5, or the Sheriff Tom Groupies I met out on River Avenue after the game, but the fact that the handicapped section was so into the bit, God Bless Them, that they all wheeled over to the stairs to see better and actually got a couple of wheelchairs stuck together that I had to help pull apart. It was then I went to slap someone 5 down there only to see there was a big bandage wrap on what looked to be a seriously burned hand. Being the Sheriff, he let me sorta slap anyway.
Well, that is all. I am going now to contemplate who actually looks up the word dictionary in the dictionary and how do they know to do it, and who exactly cuts a barbers hair. Keep following the antics of all your friends from Section 39 here on The Tom Drum! Now go drink something.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
September 19th, 1993 - "The game is NOT over"
September 19th, 1993 - Yankees Host Boston
"The game is NOT over."
A game not only saved for posterity in my scorebook journal, but hanging on my wall, over my couch, for years until a fall shattered the glass frame. But it will be back up! A wonderful panaromic Stadium shot that I picked up a few years later, and it wasnt until I did some Holmesian deduction did I realize it was indeed this game I had attended in the photographic vista. And a "historical one" to boot, as these things go.
The shot is taken from along the first base line, taking in the field, the outfield, our bleacher lair...I snagged this in the mid-90s when I worked for a poster and framing company. It was not dated, but due dilligance, checking my scorecard against the looming scoreboard in the background told me this was the game. I have since confirmed this information in an ad for the panorama.
Anyway, the card is a mess. Not only was it a rainy day, for some reason I kept score with a RED MARKER. There seem to be zero games before, and none since, where I did something so outlandish as keep score with a red marker or pen. Though, sadly, red has appeared on some archaic scorecards in the form of being blood. The rain made the red ink run all over, there are smudges everywhere - its a real mess. But it is striking, and easy to find when I want to leaf through and show it and point at my framed picture up there. I have considered framing this scorecard and hanging it next to the panaroma, but have not gone through with it yet. Too busy drinking.
Sox scored 2 in the first inning, pretty much bringing on the rain. These games started at 3 on these Saturdays - the good old game of the week - and I ermarked "rain delay" from 3:18 through 4:22. The picture above my couch has 4:30 on the clock, top of the second, with Boston's Bob Zupcic at the plate, Jimmy Key on the mound. Zupcic ended up tripling in the at-bat, bringing more rain in the form of boos.
Someone wrote the attendance at the top, 55,672 (about as big a crowd as you can get - sure the Yankees were thrilled at the extra concessions during the early rain delay), and that crowd was earmarked as "45,672 Yankee fans, 10,000 assholes." Red Sox fans were all over, including a "gang of morons" in the bleachers with us.
"Big Ass Umbrella Confusion" was written. These were the days when umbrellas were allowed in...or could this have been an umbrella day that actually saw rain? An annoyance was umbrella day on a 95 degree scorcher, when umbrellas would pop open to be used as parasols. Soon they were handed out after the game, as people were more likely to use them as weapons or projectiles as anything.
More jokes that make no sense, or are not funny, on here. "Its Godzilla!" is one. Must have been someone of Asian persuasion out there, cause I also see "Yokozuna sucks!" on here. Cheap humor yes, but we were young and unpolished. "Hey, didnt we blow you up 50 years ago?" was the obligatory offensive comment of the game.
A bleacher virgin asked "how come there are no fights in the bleachers" and we answered "we used them up during the Blue Jay series." But later on, with an arrow pointing to the 8th, there is record of "a scuffle out here."
In the very first inning, with Tim Naehring (who actually went on to run some teams farm system, I forgot which) on first, Mo Vaughn tried to walk with 3 balls on him. We hooted and laughed as he was called back, and called him names. He pretty much shut us up with a 2 run bomb right afterwords. "Tries to walk with 3 balls...would have been preferred" was hastily jotted down as the ball clanged around in the seats and Vaughn (now quite a NYC real estate magnate) lumbering around the bases.
"Where's Mel Hall when you need him" someone wrote during the game, while the Yankees trailed. If that was asked today, someone could rightfully answer "Jail." The card was passed around like a sorority sister, I wrote that everyone took a turn. I even marked down when I kept score....I kept the bottom 3rd, all of the 4th, top of the 8th, and the 9th. Someone named Chris kept the first 2 1/2 innings. Sadly, these were the days where not everyone had a colorful nickname.
"The dykes dont douche" someone scrawled. I remarked that someone "threw money" and even drew a $ with two squiggly lines off of it, like flying money. I later stole this trick, when I was mad or called cheap, I would throw money around in exasperation or rage.
"This pennant race interferes with the Gang Bang" someone groused, cause by then our silly ditties were rendered not as important. When it looked like the Yankees were going to lose, "lets go home and break some shit" was jotted. Meanwhile, with the Yankees chipping away original Cowbell clanker Ali sat there peacefully, not playing the bell, and someone bellowed in his direction, "um, Ali, this is what you call a rally."
When it did rain, it really rained. A heavy downpour. Gorilla Monsoonish conditions. I pull the card from the protective sleeve in my binder and feel a decades worth of murk in it.
The Sox had a 3-0 lead heading into the 7th inning, behind rook Nate Minchey, who had only 5 starts all year and 15 in quite the nondescript career. Minchey came out after giving up a leadoff poke to Paul O'Neill in the 7th and a Matt Nokes single, making way for one Ken Ryan.
Ryan and good old Tony Fossas cleaned up, then handed it over to Greg Harris for the 9th, the Yankees down 3-1. Four hits and 3 runs later, the Yankees win the game!
As described earlier, we all thought the last out was made, but a fan found it a good time to run onto the field. The umpire claimed time was called even though the ball was popped up for the proverbial home run in the silo, and caught for what we thought was the final out. While we threw our garbage around in resignation and snarled epitaphs, the Godlike voice of Bob Sheppard rang through the misty evening....."the game is NOT over...."
Here was Whalerfans description, from a Bleacher Creature message board a decade or so later....
"The Yankees could never get that fu-k Scott Fletcher out. And if I remember correctly, the Yanks won a game once vs. the Sox when a fan ran out on the field while Mike Stanley was making the final out. The ump called time, Stanley got a hit and Donnie Baseball got the GW single. It might've been 93 or 94. Not sure, though.
And we ended up winning. One of THE FIRST magic moments I was out there for. I remember on the subway ride out of there turning to whoever and saying "that is something I will never forget."
Thank you, Whalerfan. As for me, 17 years later here I am typing about it, soon to be on my couch underneath that picture, beer in hand, sardonic grin on my visage. Take that, Bosux! The game is not over, bitch!
Your arbiters for this wild affair were Drew Coble, the late and lamented Durwood Merrill, John Hirschbeck, and Tim Welke. The gametime was 3:29, and you can tack on that rain delay too while you're at it.
Thanks for reading!
"The game is NOT over."
A game not only saved for posterity in my scorebook journal, but hanging on my wall, over my couch, for years until a fall shattered the glass frame. But it will be back up! A wonderful panaromic Stadium shot that I picked up a few years later, and it wasnt until I did some Holmesian deduction did I realize it was indeed this game I had attended in the photographic vista. And a "historical one" to boot, as these things go.
The shot is taken from along the first base line, taking in the field, the outfield, our bleacher lair...I snagged this in the mid-90s when I worked for a poster and framing company. It was not dated, but due dilligance, checking my scorecard against the looming scoreboard in the background told me this was the game. I have since confirmed this information in an ad for the panorama.
Anyway, the card is a mess. Not only was it a rainy day, for some reason I kept score with a RED MARKER. There seem to be zero games before, and none since, where I did something so outlandish as keep score with a red marker or pen. Though, sadly, red has appeared on some archaic scorecards in the form of being blood. The rain made the red ink run all over, there are smudges everywhere - its a real mess. But it is striking, and easy to find when I want to leaf through and show it and point at my framed picture up there. I have considered framing this scorecard and hanging it next to the panaroma, but have not gone through with it yet. Too busy drinking.
Sox scored 2 in the first inning, pretty much bringing on the rain. These games started at 3 on these Saturdays - the good old game of the week - and I ermarked "rain delay" from 3:18 through 4:22. The picture above my couch has 4:30 on the clock, top of the second, with Boston's Bob Zupcic at the plate, Jimmy Key on the mound. Zupcic ended up tripling in the at-bat, bringing more rain in the form of boos.
Someone wrote the attendance at the top, 55,672 (about as big a crowd as you can get - sure the Yankees were thrilled at the extra concessions during the early rain delay), and that crowd was earmarked as "45,672 Yankee fans, 10,000 assholes." Red Sox fans were all over, including a "gang of morons" in the bleachers with us.
"Big Ass Umbrella Confusion" was written. These were the days when umbrellas were allowed in...or could this have been an umbrella day that actually saw rain? An annoyance was umbrella day on a 95 degree scorcher, when umbrellas would pop open to be used as parasols. Soon they were handed out after the game, as people were more likely to use them as weapons or projectiles as anything.
More jokes that make no sense, or are not funny, on here. "Its Godzilla!" is one. Must have been someone of Asian persuasion out there, cause I also see "Yokozuna sucks!" on here. Cheap humor yes, but we were young and unpolished. "Hey, didnt we blow you up 50 years ago?" was the obligatory offensive comment of the game.
A bleacher virgin asked "how come there are no fights in the bleachers" and we answered "we used them up during the Blue Jay series." But later on, with an arrow pointing to the 8th, there is record of "a scuffle out here."
In the very first inning, with Tim Naehring (who actually went on to run some teams farm system, I forgot which) on first, Mo Vaughn tried to walk with 3 balls on him. We hooted and laughed as he was called back, and called him names. He pretty much shut us up with a 2 run bomb right afterwords. "Tries to walk with 3 balls...would have been preferred" was hastily jotted down as the ball clanged around in the seats and Vaughn (now quite a NYC real estate magnate) lumbering around the bases.
"Where's Mel Hall when you need him" someone wrote during the game, while the Yankees trailed. If that was asked today, someone could rightfully answer "Jail." The card was passed around like a sorority sister, I wrote that everyone took a turn. I even marked down when I kept score....I kept the bottom 3rd, all of the 4th, top of the 8th, and the 9th. Someone named Chris kept the first 2 1/2 innings. Sadly, these were the days where not everyone had a colorful nickname.
"The dykes dont douche" someone scrawled. I remarked that someone "threw money" and even drew a $ with two squiggly lines off of it, like flying money. I later stole this trick, when I was mad or called cheap, I would throw money around in exasperation or rage.
"This pennant race interferes with the Gang Bang" someone groused, cause by then our silly ditties were rendered not as important. When it looked like the Yankees were going to lose, "lets go home and break some shit" was jotted. Meanwhile, with the Yankees chipping away original Cowbell clanker Ali sat there peacefully, not playing the bell, and someone bellowed in his direction, "um, Ali, this is what you call a rally."
When it did rain, it really rained. A heavy downpour. Gorilla Monsoonish conditions. I pull the card from the protective sleeve in my binder and feel a decades worth of murk in it.
The Sox had a 3-0 lead heading into the 7th inning, behind rook Nate Minchey, who had only 5 starts all year and 15 in quite the nondescript career. Minchey came out after giving up a leadoff poke to Paul O'Neill in the 7th and a Matt Nokes single, making way for one Ken Ryan.
Ryan and good old Tony Fossas cleaned up, then handed it over to Greg Harris for the 9th, the Yankees down 3-1. Four hits and 3 runs later, the Yankees win the game!
As described earlier, we all thought the last out was made, but a fan found it a good time to run onto the field. The umpire claimed time was called even though the ball was popped up for the proverbial home run in the silo, and caught for what we thought was the final out. While we threw our garbage around in resignation and snarled epitaphs, the Godlike voice of Bob Sheppard rang through the misty evening....."the game is NOT over...."
Here was Whalerfans description, from a Bleacher Creature message board a decade or so later....
"The Yankees could never get that fu-k Scott Fletcher out. And if I remember correctly, the Yanks won a game once vs. the Sox when a fan ran out on the field while Mike Stanley was making the final out. The ump called time, Stanley got a hit and Donnie Baseball got the GW single. It might've been 93 or 94. Not sure, though.
And we ended up winning. One of THE FIRST magic moments I was out there for. I remember on the subway ride out of there turning to whoever and saying "that is something I will never forget."
Thank you, Whalerfan. As for me, 17 years later here I am typing about it, soon to be on my couch underneath that picture, beer in hand, sardonic grin on my visage. Take that, Bosux! The game is not over, bitch!
Your arbiters for this wild affair were Drew Coble, the late and lamented Durwood Merrill, John Hirschbeck, and Tim Welke. The gametime was 3:29, and you can tack on that rain delay too while you're at it.
Thanks for reading!
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
September 17th, 1993 - Fans on the Field! Fans on the Field!
September 17th, 1993 - Yankees host Bosucks!
Welcome to Fans On The Field Night!
Not much on this scorecard, except a slew of comments relating to fans running on the field. I dont know what was in the beer that night, but there were FOUR documented incidents of fans running onto the field.
Another Friday night! Even then I was a big fan of the Friday nights. "To Thomas...I hope you get to 40 games!" my friend Jamie, who is long since lost to history, wrote across the top. Well, this was my 31st and peeking ahead, spoiling the end of the story for 1993, I ended up making 38. Within the next to years, I was up near 60.
Again, and I know this is getting repetitive, but the card is written in drunken scrawl, along with smudges which I hope are beer spills.
"This is a dirty fu-king night" someone wrote.
"Another guy on field!!!" is scrawled in the right margin. "Fan safe at 2nd!!!" is underneath the Red Sox lineup. I dont recall if this was the instance of the guy who hopped the bleacher walls and motored into second and nailed a head-first slide that Ill remember forevermore, but nonetheless -being safe at second is impressive regardless as far as these things go. "4th fan on field!!!" is a little lower, and to the left of an earlier account noting "fan on the field!!"
You need to go all the way to the bottom of the card to read about the "3rd fan on the field!!! - just before the seventh inning stretch!" I even drew a running stick figure in the left margin, with "fans on the field!!!" as a tagline.
And finally, we got ourselves into the mix with "We should all run out after game is over to prove we have a sense of humor about this."
The scorecard, as mentioned, was a mess. Someone was pitching in to help, to no avail. "We are behind a batter, but who cares?" is on here. In another spot you can read, "What did I miss? Don't know, but I heard a lot of "aaaahhhh!" I also see an "I F'd up...need an explanation."
We still must have been in the hunt, cause I am reading "season is on the line, and Paul Gibson is on the mound??" And after Bob Wickman's name was added to the pitching log, we simply wrote "why?"
Someone wrote on the card "write that down" - what they were talking about specifically is lost to posterity. There was an "Elvis Sighting" in the top of the 5th, which I would have to assume was simply that head security guy that looked like the King, fat version.
8 "wasnt watchings!" on the scorecard. EIGHT! Thats more like it! We missed lots of plays! Yay Friday nights!
I wrote down at one point, in big letters, "THROWN OUT IN BIG PURGE." Was I thrown out? There is no arrow pointing anywhere on the card, or no names mentioned...was it me? Not sure...someone finished the scorecard regardless. I WAS thrown out now and again back in those days especially, this night seems as good as any. But I can not confirm said information all these years later.
The game itself was a wild one - Yankees ended up pulling it out 5-4, with Boston parading 5 pitchers to the mound (including that fu-khead Paul Quantrill) and the Yankees 4. Gibson ended up getting the win, despite all the smirks we levelled in his direction, with 2 solid innings of relief. And nailing the save? One LEE FU-KING SMITH! Hoo-ah! Smith was in town for an 8 game stint with the Yankees. A young man named Scott Taylor finished up for the Sox - another name lost to history outside of my Scorecard Memories column. And no, this was not the "Scott Taylor" who later appeared on WWE television as "Scotty Too Hotty"
Mike Stanley did NOT hit a home run! Not many times I was out there in 93 where he didnt seem to. But he did rock a double. In other random gameries, Sterling Hitchcock had a balk and a wild pitch for the good guys.
As for other luminaries we saw on this night....the immortal Bob Zupcic was in center for the Sox, and Carlos Quintana was the butt of our jokes in right. If you were there, you got to see Ernest Riles pinch hit. Scott Cooper, one of most hyped prospects I can ever remember (and Im a longtime prospect mark), manned third. And the man we called an "Oriole Legend" - one Bob Melvin, was behind the plate for the hated Boston squad. Who would have thought (or remembered) that he would have 14 at bats for the Yankees the very next year? Hell, as Im putting this up here now, I still cant!
Scott Fletcher led off the Sox. One thing I remembered about him was he was an "aw, shucks" kind of guy. He used to strike out and say "darn it!" and it was a joke around baseball. We used to call him a square. I remember we used to pass some time during BP trying to get him to curse at us. He never did, but he would wave.
There were a stacked 48,051 on hand, and your arbiters were the esteemed Tim Welke, Drew Coble, the late Durwood Merrill, and John Hirschbeck. The game dragged along, 3 hours and 42 minutes.
Thanks for reading!
Welcome to Fans On The Field Night!
Not much on this scorecard, except a slew of comments relating to fans running on the field. I dont know what was in the beer that night, but there were FOUR documented incidents of fans running onto the field.
Another Friday night! Even then I was a big fan of the Friday nights. "To Thomas...I hope you get to 40 games!" my friend Jamie, who is long since lost to history, wrote across the top. Well, this was my 31st and peeking ahead, spoiling the end of the story for 1993, I ended up making 38. Within the next to years, I was up near 60.
Again, and I know this is getting repetitive, but the card is written in drunken scrawl, along with smudges which I hope are beer spills.
"This is a dirty fu-king night" someone wrote.
"Another guy on field!!!" is scrawled in the right margin. "Fan safe at 2nd!!!" is underneath the Red Sox lineup. I dont recall if this was the instance of the guy who hopped the bleacher walls and motored into second and nailed a head-first slide that Ill remember forevermore, but nonetheless -being safe at second is impressive regardless as far as these things go. "4th fan on field!!!" is a little lower, and to the left of an earlier account noting "fan on the field!!"
You need to go all the way to the bottom of the card to read about the "3rd fan on the field!!! - just before the seventh inning stretch!" I even drew a running stick figure in the left margin, with "fans on the field!!!" as a tagline.
And finally, we got ourselves into the mix with "We should all run out after game is over to prove we have a sense of humor about this."
The scorecard, as mentioned, was a mess. Someone was pitching in to help, to no avail. "We are behind a batter, but who cares?" is on here. In another spot you can read, "What did I miss? Don't know, but I heard a lot of "aaaahhhh!" I also see an "I F'd up...need an explanation."
We still must have been in the hunt, cause I am reading "season is on the line, and Paul Gibson is on the mound??" And after Bob Wickman's name was added to the pitching log, we simply wrote "why?"
Someone wrote on the card "write that down" - what they were talking about specifically is lost to posterity. There was an "Elvis Sighting" in the top of the 5th, which I would have to assume was simply that head security guy that looked like the King, fat version.
8 "wasnt watchings!" on the scorecard. EIGHT! Thats more like it! We missed lots of plays! Yay Friday nights!
I wrote down at one point, in big letters, "THROWN OUT IN BIG PURGE." Was I thrown out? There is no arrow pointing anywhere on the card, or no names mentioned...was it me? Not sure...someone finished the scorecard regardless. I WAS thrown out now and again back in those days especially, this night seems as good as any. But I can not confirm said information all these years later.
The game itself was a wild one - Yankees ended up pulling it out 5-4, with Boston parading 5 pitchers to the mound (including that fu-khead Paul Quantrill) and the Yankees 4. Gibson ended up getting the win, despite all the smirks we levelled in his direction, with 2 solid innings of relief. And nailing the save? One LEE FU-KING SMITH! Hoo-ah! Smith was in town for an 8 game stint with the Yankees. A young man named Scott Taylor finished up for the Sox - another name lost to history outside of my Scorecard Memories column. And no, this was not the "Scott Taylor" who later appeared on WWE television as "Scotty Too Hotty"
Mike Stanley did NOT hit a home run! Not many times I was out there in 93 where he didnt seem to. But he did rock a double. In other random gameries, Sterling Hitchcock had a balk and a wild pitch for the good guys.
As for other luminaries we saw on this night....the immortal Bob Zupcic was in center for the Sox, and Carlos Quintana was the butt of our jokes in right. If you were there, you got to see Ernest Riles pinch hit. Scott Cooper, one of most hyped prospects I can ever remember (and Im a longtime prospect mark), manned third. And the man we called an "Oriole Legend" - one Bob Melvin, was behind the plate for the hated Boston squad. Who would have thought (or remembered) that he would have 14 at bats for the Yankees the very next year? Hell, as Im putting this up here now, I still cant!
Scott Fletcher led off the Sox. One thing I remembered about him was he was an "aw, shucks" kind of guy. He used to strike out and say "darn it!" and it was a joke around baseball. We used to call him a square. I remember we used to pass some time during BP trying to get him to curse at us. He never did, but he would wave.
There were a stacked 48,051 on hand, and your arbiters were the esteemed Tim Welke, Drew Coble, the late Durwood Merrill, and John Hirschbeck. The game dragged along, 3 hours and 42 minutes.
Thanks for reading!
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
September 3rd, 1993! The Ump is a Cockhead!
September 3rd, 1993 - Yankees host Indians
Manny cracks two jacks!
A Friday night at the Stadium, with rain about. The combination of rain and lots of beer made the scorecard a bit messy, shall we say. Bob Ojeda was on the mound for the Indians, so the "Take Me Out To The Ocean" ode we penned to remember the Indians boating crash was being belted for sure. In the linescore, someone actually wrote "Boats" in the visitors column, and "good guys" for the Yankees. Well, we are not all Ernest Hemingways.
The very top of the scorecard, which is usually reserved for a REALLY FUNNY joke, or an important note regarding the days affairs, has something lost to the annals of time....it says "I'm Kirby the....." and then indecipherable scrawling. Wayne Kirby, the guy who laughed when we sang "Row Row Row Your Boat" to make fun of the fatal Indian crash, was the beneficiary of that lost gem. Even now, in sober state, I cant come up with anything funny to complete the line.
A "Spanish family" was on hand, and after they looked piqued at some of our rowdy verbiage, we actually cursed in Spanish for them. Two shifty looking guys were called "Omar and Ishkabibble" whatever that means.
Our buddy Saddam on security was busy that night. Warnings were afoot. "Cops is filmed live before a studio audience" was noted as he came up for the first time....little did we know in a few years we WOULD have real cops stationed all around our rowdy bunch. Someone did a funny speech, mimicing Saddam....it went like this...
"In my country, if you sing "Horses Ass" you are taken out and shot, no questions asked."
I noted a lot of the trouble was caused by a "bleacher virgin" who did not deserve to lead chants or shout jokes in boisterous fashion. So the term "bleacher virgin" was alive and well in 1993, and it did not simply refer to all the girls that said no to us. The bottom of the 2nd was noted as a "VERY rowdy inning....disgraceful" on this scorecard. I wish i knew why!
The first pitch was not tossed until 7:39, which was at least 3 or 4 minutes late. "Well, its worth it for Hispanic Night" we wrote, and yes, according to us, the hispanics were simply being honored on that night for "not yet stealing my car."
Again, there are autographs all over the scorecard. To think about how dumb this was, imagine if during our heydey I would have Grover, Gang Bang Steve, or Big Tone Capone autographing the scorecard 10 times a year...it makes no sense! Some of the scribes on this night were our good buddy Dennis, who had already signed this year a handful of times, bleacher stalwart George (you know, Angel's ex) and Melle Mel, the real rapper and member of The Furious Five that ran with Grandmaster Flash.
Melido Perez started for the Yankees...apparently I stuck up for him, spurring someone to write "Thomas thinks Melido is not that bad....how many beers has he had?" I dont know what is more a head-scratcher, the fact I was sticking up for Melido, or the fact that someone was calling me Thomas out there.
Lots of snide comments directed at the Yankees' play during this game, including "we can't run" and "what the fuck." I missed a few plays, with excuses like "too busy saying go down" and "handing out cigars" and "too busy telling jokes." As to that, too bad no good ones made this card.
Someone DID write "we already heard that one..." with a frowny face attached...how catty. Can you imagine if we commented on every joke, line and remark we heard out there in the rightfield bleachers? Sadly, everything seems to be recycled.
Manny Ramirez was still a no-name merely irritating us at that point, and he was doing so from a distance, DH'ing and not within shouting distance. He did get to say hello with a monster crank in the 6th inning, then he poked one out to left in the 8th, which literally bought down rain. While the next batter was settling in, it started to pour. We even called it "BIG rain" They apparently played through this as the last two innings have that "wet pen" look about them. As for Ramirez' first home run of the evening, it was noted that "we HEARD that one."
Ramirez was not the only bugaboo that night. Paul Sorrento was killing us. He had been in the league since 1989, but whoever wrote the lineups and the bulk of the comments on here (not me, I was too drunk, a Friday and all) wrote "Us, the scoreboard, and the Yankees dont know who this guy is, and he is 2 for 3 with a double and a home run."
Someone wrote "the umpire is a cockhead" and signed their autograph. I have no idea if they meant to say COKEHEAD, or if cockhead was their intention. I think I like cockhead better. It seems back then there was a lot more anger towards the umpires, there are anti-umpire rants, even signs in the crowd, all over these scorecards.
Celebrity lookalike sightings included WWF wrestler Razor Ramon, and Mr. Clean. Unlike many of the previous offerings that were pretty cleanly scored, there were SEVEN "mystery outs" (still called WW's - wasnt watching's) - thats more like it!
Out on the soggy field, the Yankees dropped the game by a 7-2 score. Ramirez was 3-4, with 2 jacks, 3 runs scored, and 3RBIs. That idiot Carlos Baerga had 3 hits and plated 2, and Kenny Lofton led off for the tribe and scored twice. Other luminaries that appeared in the Indian colors on that day were ex-Yank Alvaro Espinoza, a young Jim Thome, that madman Albert "Joey" Belle, and Felix Fermin. Jerry Dipoto, of all people, notched the save.
Melido was hit hard, giving up 6 runs on 9 hits in 5 innings of work. That nerd Paul Gibson actually threw 3 decent innings in relief, before Steve Howe put down the pipe to pitch an uneventful top 9.
Mike Stanley had ANOTHER home run.
29,041 were on hand...I would KILL for that kind of crowd on a Friday night and the room it affords out there, and they got to see Ed Hickox, Ted Hendry, Jim Evans, and Terry Craft ump the game, which went on for 3 hours and 12 minutes.
Thanks for reading!
Manny cracks two jacks!
A Friday night at the Stadium, with rain about. The combination of rain and lots of beer made the scorecard a bit messy, shall we say. Bob Ojeda was on the mound for the Indians, so the "Take Me Out To The Ocean" ode we penned to remember the Indians boating crash was being belted for sure. In the linescore, someone actually wrote "Boats" in the visitors column, and "good guys" for the Yankees. Well, we are not all Ernest Hemingways.
The very top of the scorecard, which is usually reserved for a REALLY FUNNY joke, or an important note regarding the days affairs, has something lost to the annals of time....it says "I'm Kirby the....." and then indecipherable scrawling. Wayne Kirby, the guy who laughed when we sang "Row Row Row Your Boat" to make fun of the fatal Indian crash, was the beneficiary of that lost gem. Even now, in sober state, I cant come up with anything funny to complete the line.
A "Spanish family" was on hand, and after they looked piqued at some of our rowdy verbiage, we actually cursed in Spanish for them. Two shifty looking guys were called "Omar and Ishkabibble" whatever that means.
Our buddy Saddam on security was busy that night. Warnings were afoot. "Cops is filmed live before a studio audience" was noted as he came up for the first time....little did we know in a few years we WOULD have real cops stationed all around our rowdy bunch. Someone did a funny speech, mimicing Saddam....it went like this...
"In my country, if you sing "Horses Ass" you are taken out and shot, no questions asked."
I noted a lot of the trouble was caused by a "bleacher virgin" who did not deserve to lead chants or shout jokes in boisterous fashion. So the term "bleacher virgin" was alive and well in 1993, and it did not simply refer to all the girls that said no to us. The bottom of the 2nd was noted as a "VERY rowdy inning....disgraceful" on this scorecard. I wish i knew why!
The first pitch was not tossed until 7:39, which was at least 3 or 4 minutes late. "Well, its worth it for Hispanic Night" we wrote, and yes, according to us, the hispanics were simply being honored on that night for "not yet stealing my car."
Again, there are autographs all over the scorecard. To think about how dumb this was, imagine if during our heydey I would have Grover, Gang Bang Steve, or Big Tone Capone autographing the scorecard 10 times a year...it makes no sense! Some of the scribes on this night were our good buddy Dennis, who had already signed this year a handful of times, bleacher stalwart George (you know, Angel's ex) and Melle Mel, the real rapper and member of The Furious Five that ran with Grandmaster Flash.
Melido Perez started for the Yankees...apparently I stuck up for him, spurring someone to write "Thomas thinks Melido is not that bad....how many beers has he had?" I dont know what is more a head-scratcher, the fact I was sticking up for Melido, or the fact that someone was calling me Thomas out there.
Lots of snide comments directed at the Yankees' play during this game, including "we can't run" and "what the fuck." I missed a few plays, with excuses like "too busy saying go down" and "handing out cigars" and "too busy telling jokes." As to that, too bad no good ones made this card.
Someone DID write "we already heard that one..." with a frowny face attached...how catty. Can you imagine if we commented on every joke, line and remark we heard out there in the rightfield bleachers? Sadly, everything seems to be recycled.
Manny Ramirez was still a no-name merely irritating us at that point, and he was doing so from a distance, DH'ing and not within shouting distance. He did get to say hello with a monster crank in the 6th inning, then he poked one out to left in the 8th, which literally bought down rain. While the next batter was settling in, it started to pour. We even called it "BIG rain" They apparently played through this as the last two innings have that "wet pen" look about them. As for Ramirez' first home run of the evening, it was noted that "we HEARD that one."
Ramirez was not the only bugaboo that night. Paul Sorrento was killing us. He had been in the league since 1989, but whoever wrote the lineups and the bulk of the comments on here (not me, I was too drunk, a Friday and all) wrote "Us, the scoreboard, and the Yankees dont know who this guy is, and he is 2 for 3 with a double and a home run."
Someone wrote "the umpire is a cockhead" and signed their autograph. I have no idea if they meant to say COKEHEAD, or if cockhead was their intention. I think I like cockhead better. It seems back then there was a lot more anger towards the umpires, there are anti-umpire rants, even signs in the crowd, all over these scorecards.
Celebrity lookalike sightings included WWF wrestler Razor Ramon, and Mr. Clean. Unlike many of the previous offerings that were pretty cleanly scored, there were SEVEN "mystery outs" (still called WW's - wasnt watching's) - thats more like it!
Out on the soggy field, the Yankees dropped the game by a 7-2 score. Ramirez was 3-4, with 2 jacks, 3 runs scored, and 3RBIs. That idiot Carlos Baerga had 3 hits and plated 2, and Kenny Lofton led off for the tribe and scored twice. Other luminaries that appeared in the Indian colors on that day were ex-Yank Alvaro Espinoza, a young Jim Thome, that madman Albert "Joey" Belle, and Felix Fermin. Jerry Dipoto, of all people, notched the save.
Melido was hit hard, giving up 6 runs on 9 hits in 5 innings of work. That nerd Paul Gibson actually threw 3 decent innings in relief, before Steve Howe put down the pipe to pitch an uneventful top 9.
Mike Stanley had ANOTHER home run.
29,041 were on hand...I would KILL for that kind of crowd on a Friday night and the room it affords out there, and they got to see Ed Hickox, Ted Hendry, Jim Evans, and Terry Craft ump the game, which went on for 3 hours and 12 minutes.
Thanks for reading!
Monday, August 16, 2010
August 31st, 1993 - "Who the F*ck comes to the bleachers in a tie?"
August 31st, 1993 - Yankees host the White Sox
"Hip Hip, you're gay!"
Well, the Yankees caught a beating on this night. But we were out standing strong there on this Tuesday night....the "Tuesday Night Titans" as I described us. "Is the guy who burns his hair off here?" someone asked. Maybe not, but "Dennis was here" is scrawled in big letters to the left of the Chisox lineup. We have speculated in the past, but I can verify that this idiot Dennis helped with this scorecard by the "correcting Dennis' mistakes" markings on here, and the constant x-outs, and scribbles over plays in the wrong box.
Bo Jackson was in the house. Oh, did we ever have fun with him. Him and his bogus hip. "Hip Hip...you're gay!" flooded the Stadium seats back in those days. "Bo recycles....with a plastic hip!" was a proper refrain that August night. The group also partook in a rousing "Na Na Na Na...Na Na Na Na....hey, left hip.....goodbye!" Jackson, highly appreciative of our kind sentiments, simply blew us a kiss.
Since the Bo Jackson odes went over so well, a number of Creatures partook in a few choruses of the "Hokey Pokey" which seems like a fun thing to do.
"If you try and you don't succeed, you're a Met fan" someone mused. There was a Mutt fan being harrassed, and in between insults some of the bleacher denizens were trying to get him to "see the light" by coaxing him to throw his OWN hat on the field. When that was not successful, we threw that hat around amongst ourselves for him, with ugly "burn that hat" chants booming all around.
The age-old query of "who the fuck comes to the bleachers in a tie" was bandied about on this night. And there is a line involving security guard Saddam (a dead ringer for Saddam Hussein who will appear frequently in this annals) that mentions "Palestine" in there. Sad to say, it is written in drunk hand and practically illegible. The word "steroids" is also written on here, and not really directed to anyone...it is sort of written in the middle of nowhere. I guess it could have been aimed at Bo Jackson.
It appears my brother Dave was on hand with a lady friend, who endeared herself to everyone by saying "I gotta suck on that for a while" albeit while simply talking about some hard candy that was being passed around. Not sure of her relationship with my brother, but she identified herself as "Dave Browns only friend" when she signed the scorecard. Another girl on hand who accompanied her, a friend named "Laurie" was so entertained by the capers and antics she signed "Thanks for the memories....I really enjoyed myself." As I have absolutely no recollection of her, she apparently did not enjoy herself enough to ever come back.
While all this zaniness was abound, the Yankees were stinking it up on the field. After one play that we all missed, when wondering what to put on the scorecard someone said "they got a run somehow...everyone went BOOO! real loud at the end, so it must have been close!"
All kinds of "addendums" were connected to plays with arrows to the margin, like "It hit the fucking base!" and "two guys on one base!" and "out tag...what was the point?" I even called a 9th inning 6-4 Gallego to Jim Leyritz grounder the "play of the year." No further details on that, though, but it sounds like i was reaching a bit. After a double by Chicago's Tim Raines, someone took my pen and wrote "we should give him a strikeout instead - that would be peachy."
One interesting note of interest is that the soda guy apparently dropped his tray on this night. Unfortunately the number of sodas lost was not earmarked.
I am seeing a few "ww's" here (wasnt watching) and whole half innings that simply don't look complete...
The Yankees gave up 5 homers on this night, 2 by Raines, and one each by Frank Thomas, Joey Cora, and Ellis Burks. Sterling Hitchcock started (he had not yet made 10 major league starts at this point) and was cuffed around a bit, but the main offender on the Yankee hill was old favorite Richard Monteleone (1.1 innings, and 5 earned runs on 6 hits and a walk). Steve Howe ambled in to pitch the 9th, and promptly gave up the Burks homer. So, since Monteleone was taken deep by Raines and Cora in the 9th as well, that means THREE White Sox bombs in the final frame.
Wilson Alvarez went for the White Sox, and after Jose DeLeon came in to throw to one batter, Scott Radinsky finished up for the Sox. Radinsky is better known these days for fronting Cali punk band Pulley, who sound like Bad Religion/Green Day clones to me. I just nabbed one of thier CDs off Amazon used for $2, but have not given it enough spins yet to come up with anything further than that.
Other noteworthy names on hand for the Chisox were former Yankee Dan Pasqua (who came in as a defensive replacement at first late in the game) and Ivan Calderon, who is now dead.
On the Yankee front Mike Stanley had a homer, and Gallego went 2-4 and plated 2 runs.
37,511 were on hand, and your umpires on this putrid evening were Larry Barnett, Greg Kosc, Dan Morrison, and Al Clark.
Thanks for reading, yo!
"Hip Hip, you're gay!"
Well, the Yankees caught a beating on this night. But we were out standing strong there on this Tuesday night....the "Tuesday Night Titans" as I described us. "Is the guy who burns his hair off here?" someone asked. Maybe not, but "Dennis was here" is scrawled in big letters to the left of the Chisox lineup. We have speculated in the past, but I can verify that this idiot Dennis helped with this scorecard by the "correcting Dennis' mistakes" markings on here, and the constant x-outs, and scribbles over plays in the wrong box.
Bo Jackson was in the house. Oh, did we ever have fun with him. Him and his bogus hip. "Hip Hip...you're gay!" flooded the Stadium seats back in those days. "Bo recycles....with a plastic hip!" was a proper refrain that August night. The group also partook in a rousing "Na Na Na Na...Na Na Na Na....hey, left hip.....goodbye!" Jackson, highly appreciative of our kind sentiments, simply blew us a kiss.
Since the Bo Jackson odes went over so well, a number of Creatures partook in a few choruses of the "Hokey Pokey" which seems like a fun thing to do.
"If you try and you don't succeed, you're a Met fan" someone mused. There was a Mutt fan being harrassed, and in between insults some of the bleacher denizens were trying to get him to "see the light" by coaxing him to throw his OWN hat on the field. When that was not successful, we threw that hat around amongst ourselves for him, with ugly "burn that hat" chants booming all around.
The age-old query of "who the fuck comes to the bleachers in a tie" was bandied about on this night. And there is a line involving security guard Saddam (a dead ringer for Saddam Hussein who will appear frequently in this annals) that mentions "Palestine" in there. Sad to say, it is written in drunk hand and practically illegible. The word "steroids" is also written on here, and not really directed to anyone...it is sort of written in the middle of nowhere. I guess it could have been aimed at Bo Jackson.
It appears my brother Dave was on hand with a lady friend, who endeared herself to everyone by saying "I gotta suck on that for a while" albeit while simply talking about some hard candy that was being passed around. Not sure of her relationship with my brother, but she identified herself as "Dave Browns only friend" when she signed the scorecard. Another girl on hand who accompanied her, a friend named "Laurie" was so entertained by the capers and antics she signed "Thanks for the memories....I really enjoyed myself." As I have absolutely no recollection of her, she apparently did not enjoy herself enough to ever come back.
While all this zaniness was abound, the Yankees were stinking it up on the field. After one play that we all missed, when wondering what to put on the scorecard someone said "they got a run somehow...everyone went BOOO! real loud at the end, so it must have been close!"
All kinds of "addendums" were connected to plays with arrows to the margin, like "It hit the fucking base!" and "two guys on one base!" and "out tag...what was the point?" I even called a 9th inning 6-4 Gallego to Jim Leyritz grounder the "play of the year." No further details on that, though, but it sounds like i was reaching a bit. After a double by Chicago's Tim Raines, someone took my pen and wrote "we should give him a strikeout instead - that would be peachy."
One interesting note of interest is that the soda guy apparently dropped his tray on this night. Unfortunately the number of sodas lost was not earmarked.
I am seeing a few "ww's" here (wasnt watching) and whole half innings that simply don't look complete...
The Yankees gave up 5 homers on this night, 2 by Raines, and one each by Frank Thomas, Joey Cora, and Ellis Burks. Sterling Hitchcock started (he had not yet made 10 major league starts at this point) and was cuffed around a bit, but the main offender on the Yankee hill was old favorite Richard Monteleone (1.1 innings, and 5 earned runs on 6 hits and a walk). Steve Howe ambled in to pitch the 9th, and promptly gave up the Burks homer. So, since Monteleone was taken deep by Raines and Cora in the 9th as well, that means THREE White Sox bombs in the final frame.
Wilson Alvarez went for the White Sox, and after Jose DeLeon came in to throw to one batter, Scott Radinsky finished up for the Sox. Radinsky is better known these days for fronting Cali punk band Pulley, who sound like Bad Religion/Green Day clones to me. I just nabbed one of thier CDs off Amazon used for $2, but have not given it enough spins yet to come up with anything further than that.
Other noteworthy names on hand for the Chisox were former Yankee Dan Pasqua (who came in as a defensive replacement at first late in the game) and Ivan Calderon, who is now dead.
On the Yankee front Mike Stanley had a homer, and Gallego went 2-4 and plated 2 runs.
37,511 were on hand, and your umpires on this putrid evening were Larry Barnett, Greg Kosc, Dan Morrison, and Al Clark.
Thanks for reading, yo!
Friday, August 13, 2010
August 14th, 1993 - Im the I in Reggie!
August 14th, 1993
Reggie Jackson Day!
Ah, Reggie Jackson Day at the Stadium. Need I say more? Probably not, but its me, so off I go.
Oh boy was I drunk again. The scoresheet is splattered with seas of blue, smudgy ink...more on that in a minute. I know a bunch of people were looking forward to this scorecard when I first started putting these together, but I may be of little help to them, as I was a bit intoxicated. This scorecard is actually more full of fan autographs than anything else.
The Orioles - long known as the Blow-rioles on these cards were our foes on the field. Jesus, there are no less than 5 fan autographs on here...do you see your name? There is a John Nettles (?) and a Bill Butler (?) and a Jeff "Stig" something or another, and a Garry something.....I am pretty sure these are some of the yokes who spelled out R E G G I E on their chests, needing me to pinch-pose, but more on that later...
It was Joe Pagano's 20th birthday. He's 37 here in 2010...wonder what became of the yoke, he seems to have signed these scorecards an awful lot. On the card, in the slot next to "date" I put "none" - so what else was new.
Anyone remember "hot dog girl?" They seemingly grabbed some trollop out of a club and made her sell hot dogs at Yankee Stadium back then. "Hot Dog Girl has nice buns!" someone hollered. Someone signed "Hot Dog Girl" on the scorecard, but I cant imagine she would demean herself and do that in her own hand the way everyone was carrying on over her. "Take it off, hot dog!" was a popular refrain that day, as was "can I dump some mustard on you?" Someone even wrote in the left margin "I love hot dog girl" with a cartoon heart and everything.
There was a fan on hand that looked like Rollie Fingers, and he got a couple of "sit down, Rolaids fireman of the year!"
Someone pointed out that Fat Daddy Chico was the "Abdullah Butcher of the bleachers." I am shocked that comparison did not come up before then, and I have not heard it since. Both were indeed roly poly dark-skinned men who frightened children with all their bombard. It was noted that Cowbell Man Ali had a new hat, so you can tell there was not much going on out there in the wit department, for us to relay such trifling news.
Not many Reggie notes on here, which is a bit of a shame. The most poignant is a Naked Gun reference, in "I...must...kill....the Queen" Its funny that over the years this game constantly comes up in bleacher musings, but not much of it is recorded for public consumption.
But, if you were there, I am sure you would remember me starring as the "I" in REGGIE. I doffed my shirt, painted a big I on it (people could have taken shade under the curly-Q's at the ends of my I) and pranced around for all to see. There IS a picture of said incident, which is available for public viewing for a small donation to get more beer.
What happened was this....this group of drunkards came to the game, shirtless and spelling out REGGIE on their chests. They were thin, in pretty much all cases muscular, and very tan. For some reason "I" took a powder. It is not recorded if he was booted, cold, embarrassed, or what....I guess that is one of the bleachers many unsolved mysteries.
So they started asking around for someone to fill the prized "I" slot. Of course I hopped up, I was ever the ham, even with my shirt on. In the course of painting an "I" on my buddha belly, I made a mess with the ink. It is all over the scorecard for eternity, and I got it all over my jeans (and continued to wear them for the rest of the season, blue ink and all)
And there I was. From a distance it looked like a haystack in the middle of a series of fenceposts. The only pic, sad to say, is a closeup of me having too much fun....I believe I had a beer in one hand and a cigar in the other....if not, I know I was drinking and smoking cigars all game. Hell, we all were.
"Hit the beach Tom!" was a common bellow.
As for the game....when the first game note was "we're getting one of those fucked up lineups today" that is an ominous note. But the Yankees ended up notching a 4-2 win, with Paul ASSenmacher getting the W and Steve Farr actually notching a save, much to the amazement of the crowd on hand. We thought so little of Farr those days that I actually wrote an "afterthought" on the card...(I did this from time to time. I would pick up the scorecard later, either on the train home, in a bar, or from my apartment, and make a note) - well, this one was written at 1:57AM (what I was doing up at that time thinking of Steve Farr is a sad thought) and I wrote "we thought this game was FARR from over."
Seems like we were barring it up after the game, someone said the line, and being drunk I thought it was much funnier than it actually was, and NEEDED to write it down for posterity. 17 years later, aren't you happy I did?
I have to give us credit...even with the lack of jokes on here, there are NO MYSTERY OUTS. The keeper of the card did not miss one play! And the card was passed around for sure. Actually, the game log is the neatest thing on the scorecard.
Arthur Rhodes started for Baltimore, and only pitched into the 5th, when he was relieved by a man only identified as "Mystery Man????" - years later playing on baseballreference.com I can see we had the honor and the privelage of seeing Mark Williamson take the hill. Whoever wrote "mystery man" should be ashamed of themself, as this was Williamson's 6th year in the league.
Another interesting reliever came sauntering in for Baltimore that day, one John O'Donaghue. Now THAT sounds like a bleacher creature name. Anyway, we had met Mr. O'Donaghue sometime that weekend, over the outfield fence during BP. We were dropping the banter back and forth with one Ben McDonald (who is one of my favorite baseball players of all time, by the way - I have an autographed 8 X 10 framed on my baseball wall around the computer) and we see this no-name neophyte shagging some flies.
"Hey, Ben!" we say. "Who the fuck is that?" He tells us he is this new kid named O'Donaghue, and he rolls his eyes a bit as if to say "see him now, cause you'll never see him again." We ask Mr. McDonald to go grab the kid and bring him over so we can roast him on the proverbial spit. So he does, he goes on over, puts his arm around the kid, and brings him into the lions den. So we were able to give Mr. O'Donaghue a bit of baseball experience I would hazard to say he still has in his treasure trove of baseball memories.
He did go one and done in 1993 - his only year in the majors. In 11 games (one start) he threw 19 innings, giving up 10 earned runs on 22 hits and 10 walks. He did strike out 16. Of course that day he pitched a scoreless inning and a third against the Yankees. I am happy to check out this card again, I remembered bandying with this guy, but I did not realize I had actually seen him pitch!
Speaking of nondescript, Domingo Jean started for the Yankees, and only went 5 innings himself. The only home run of the game was from Mike Devereux, in Jean's final inning. After the O's took a 2-0 lead in that frame, the Yankees stormed back for 2 of their own, then notched 2 the very next inning and locked it down, to send us home with a 4-2 win to celebrate.
The oddball Yankee lineup that was cited early in the day had Gallego leading off, followed by Randy Velarde. Then Mattingly, Tartabull, Stanley, BW, Leyritz, Spike Owen, and Patrick Kelly. Paul O'Neill did not start, he actually came in for Leyritz, who was in right. The Oriole lineup contained standouts such as Mark McLemore, who spent many more years annoying the fuck out of Yankee fans, and luminaries such as Chris Hoiles and Jeff Tackett, who was behind the dish. Jack Voight actually pinch-hit for Tackett, and walked. Leading off for Baltimore was "Brady's a Lady" Anderson, that dick. We got to see Harold Baines and Cal Ripken Jr on that day, along with baseball sage Harold Reynolds, playing second during his only season with the O's.
There were a whopping and whooping 52,598 on hand, and your umpires for the day were John Shulock, Tim Tschida, Jim Joyce, and Donald Denkinger.
Thanks for reading, tell a friend!
PS - I know there are no pregame festivity notations on here. I guess we were still outside drinking at that time!
Reggie Jackson Day!
Ah, Reggie Jackson Day at the Stadium. Need I say more? Probably not, but its me, so off I go.
Oh boy was I drunk again. The scoresheet is splattered with seas of blue, smudgy ink...more on that in a minute. I know a bunch of people were looking forward to this scorecard when I first started putting these together, but I may be of little help to them, as I was a bit intoxicated. This scorecard is actually more full of fan autographs than anything else.
The Orioles - long known as the Blow-rioles on these cards were our foes on the field. Jesus, there are no less than 5 fan autographs on here...do you see your name? There is a John Nettles (?) and a Bill Butler (?) and a Jeff "Stig" something or another, and a Garry something.....I am pretty sure these are some of the yokes who spelled out R E G G I E on their chests, needing me to pinch-pose, but more on that later...
It was Joe Pagano's 20th birthday. He's 37 here in 2010...wonder what became of the yoke, he seems to have signed these scorecards an awful lot. On the card, in the slot next to "date" I put "none" - so what else was new.
Anyone remember "hot dog girl?" They seemingly grabbed some trollop out of a club and made her sell hot dogs at Yankee Stadium back then. "Hot Dog Girl has nice buns!" someone hollered. Someone signed "Hot Dog Girl" on the scorecard, but I cant imagine she would demean herself and do that in her own hand the way everyone was carrying on over her. "Take it off, hot dog!" was a popular refrain that day, as was "can I dump some mustard on you?" Someone even wrote in the left margin "I love hot dog girl" with a cartoon heart and everything.
There was a fan on hand that looked like Rollie Fingers, and he got a couple of "sit down, Rolaids fireman of the year!"
Someone pointed out that Fat Daddy Chico was the "Abdullah Butcher of the bleachers." I am shocked that comparison did not come up before then, and I have not heard it since. Both were indeed roly poly dark-skinned men who frightened children with all their bombard. It was noted that Cowbell Man Ali had a new hat, so you can tell there was not much going on out there in the wit department, for us to relay such trifling news.
Not many Reggie notes on here, which is a bit of a shame. The most poignant is a Naked Gun reference, in "I...must...kill....the Queen" Its funny that over the years this game constantly comes up in bleacher musings, but not much of it is recorded for public consumption.
But, if you were there, I am sure you would remember me starring as the "I" in REGGIE. I doffed my shirt, painted a big I on it (people could have taken shade under the curly-Q's at the ends of my I) and pranced around for all to see. There IS a picture of said incident, which is available for public viewing for a small donation to get more beer.
What happened was this....this group of drunkards came to the game, shirtless and spelling out REGGIE on their chests. They were thin, in pretty much all cases muscular, and very tan. For some reason "I" took a powder. It is not recorded if he was booted, cold, embarrassed, or what....I guess that is one of the bleachers many unsolved mysteries.
So they started asking around for someone to fill the prized "I" slot. Of course I hopped up, I was ever the ham, even with my shirt on. In the course of painting an "I" on my buddha belly, I made a mess with the ink. It is all over the scorecard for eternity, and I got it all over my jeans (and continued to wear them for the rest of the season, blue ink and all)
And there I was. From a distance it looked like a haystack in the middle of a series of fenceposts. The only pic, sad to say, is a closeup of me having too much fun....I believe I had a beer in one hand and a cigar in the other....if not, I know I was drinking and smoking cigars all game. Hell, we all were.
"Hit the beach Tom!" was a common bellow.
As for the game....when the first game note was "we're getting one of those fucked up lineups today" that is an ominous note. But the Yankees ended up notching a 4-2 win, with Paul ASSenmacher getting the W and Steve Farr actually notching a save, much to the amazement of the crowd on hand. We thought so little of Farr those days that I actually wrote an "afterthought" on the card...(I did this from time to time. I would pick up the scorecard later, either on the train home, in a bar, or from my apartment, and make a note) - well, this one was written at 1:57AM (what I was doing up at that time thinking of Steve Farr is a sad thought) and I wrote "we thought this game was FARR from over."
Seems like we were barring it up after the game, someone said the line, and being drunk I thought it was much funnier than it actually was, and NEEDED to write it down for posterity. 17 years later, aren't you happy I did?
I have to give us credit...even with the lack of jokes on here, there are NO MYSTERY OUTS. The keeper of the card did not miss one play! And the card was passed around for sure. Actually, the game log is the neatest thing on the scorecard.
Arthur Rhodes started for Baltimore, and only pitched into the 5th, when he was relieved by a man only identified as "Mystery Man????" - years later playing on baseballreference.com I can see we had the honor and the privelage of seeing Mark Williamson take the hill. Whoever wrote "mystery man" should be ashamed of themself, as this was Williamson's 6th year in the league.
Another interesting reliever came sauntering in for Baltimore that day, one John O'Donaghue. Now THAT sounds like a bleacher creature name. Anyway, we had met Mr. O'Donaghue sometime that weekend, over the outfield fence during BP. We were dropping the banter back and forth with one Ben McDonald (who is one of my favorite baseball players of all time, by the way - I have an autographed 8 X 10 framed on my baseball wall around the computer) and we see this no-name neophyte shagging some flies.
"Hey, Ben!" we say. "Who the fuck is that?" He tells us he is this new kid named O'Donaghue, and he rolls his eyes a bit as if to say "see him now, cause you'll never see him again." We ask Mr. McDonald to go grab the kid and bring him over so we can roast him on the proverbial spit. So he does, he goes on over, puts his arm around the kid, and brings him into the lions den. So we were able to give Mr. O'Donaghue a bit of baseball experience I would hazard to say he still has in his treasure trove of baseball memories.
He did go one and done in 1993 - his only year in the majors. In 11 games (one start) he threw 19 innings, giving up 10 earned runs on 22 hits and 10 walks. He did strike out 16. Of course that day he pitched a scoreless inning and a third against the Yankees. I am happy to check out this card again, I remembered bandying with this guy, but I did not realize I had actually seen him pitch!
Speaking of nondescript, Domingo Jean started for the Yankees, and only went 5 innings himself. The only home run of the game was from Mike Devereux, in Jean's final inning. After the O's took a 2-0 lead in that frame, the Yankees stormed back for 2 of their own, then notched 2 the very next inning and locked it down, to send us home with a 4-2 win to celebrate.
The oddball Yankee lineup that was cited early in the day had Gallego leading off, followed by Randy Velarde. Then Mattingly, Tartabull, Stanley, BW, Leyritz, Spike Owen, and Patrick Kelly. Paul O'Neill did not start, he actually came in for Leyritz, who was in right. The Oriole lineup contained standouts such as Mark McLemore, who spent many more years annoying the fuck out of Yankee fans, and luminaries such as Chris Hoiles and Jeff Tackett, who was behind the dish. Jack Voight actually pinch-hit for Tackett, and walked. Leading off for Baltimore was "Brady's a Lady" Anderson, that dick. We got to see Harold Baines and Cal Ripken Jr on that day, along with baseball sage Harold Reynolds, playing second during his only season with the O's.
There were a whopping and whooping 52,598 on hand, and your umpires for the day were John Shulock, Tim Tschida, Jim Joyce, and Donald Denkinger.
Thanks for reading, tell a friend!
PS - I know there are no pregame festivity notations on here. I guess we were still outside drinking at that time!
Thursday, August 12, 2010
August 22nd, 1993 - Cheap Watch Day!
AUGUST 22nd, 1993 - Yankees host Royals
"Cheap Watch Day! - Umpires Must Die!"
LOL. I remember talking about this one years later. That cheap digital watch giveway. The watches that were magically working when they handed them to us at the gate, but were broken by the time the 2nd inning rolled around. What a piece of crap. Mine was actually broken BEFORE THE FIRST INNING STARTED, as duly noted on the scorecard.
Old school rap legend and bleacher creature Melle Mel, who I actually called Stevie Wonder back then for his dead-on impersonation of such, made the point that the plastic bag the watch came in "would make a great propholactic" Hey, anyone else remember him singing "I just called....to say.....I love you!" with his sunglasses, head lolling back and forth, and goofy grin, while the bleachers roared?
Showing what passed as an "anniversary" for me in those carefree days, I got my drink on early that Lords Day, celebrating 5 years to the day since I had headed away to SUNY New Paltz. Over the years it was funny to run into people from school out there, where we would laugh about my controversial stints as hotshot newspaper columnist and President of Scudder Hall, a position I was forced to resign after an ugly scandal. Trust me on that one!
"Down in front, Captain Lou Albano!" someone screamed as the festivities got under way. "Jump, Truman Capote!" someone else howled. "Jump, Rick Cerone, Jump!" yelled a third. Lots of dopplegangers about, obviously.
Melido Perez was stretching before the game and was serenaded by a caustic voice howling "don't party with Pascual, alright?"
Families were once again taking a hit, carrying over the theme of the previous night. With Brian McRae, a popular bleacher foe parked in center again, someone shouted "you suck, and your father does too!" The ever-popular "Daddys Boy!" sing-song chant filled the air as well.
Remember I mentioned that button with the Met log enconsed in a cartoon pile of shit that they sold at Greek Steve's fast-foodery across the street? Well, we tossed one to bispectacled Yankee reliever Paul Gibson before the game, during BP. He chuckled and pocketed it, giving us a wink and an impish grin.
While we hooted on the Royals a Blue Jay fan leaned over the loge with a grin, and he was met with a poignant "Toronto sucks too, you asshole up there!!" Someone else added, "stop posing for a box of Animal Crackers, you asshole!"
Captain Bob autographed my scorecard AGAIN. I think I was taking this autograph gig a bit far now, when I was having the same guys signing the thing over and over. And its not like I didnt see them every homestand at this time. Someone else who called themselves "Jumpin' Jose" signed the card, noting himself as "a fan of the game in the bleachers!"
Someone had an UMPIRES MUST DIE sign. Very straight and to the point.
The game was a joke. Yankees were SHUT OUT. By Chris Haney, of all people. Haney walked 5 but only gave up 4 hits, and the Yankees plodded to a 7-0 loss, in a Stadium I had optomistically described as "sun central" hours earlier.
One funny game note was a wild throwing error by Randy Velarde out in left field. I actually called it "the WORST throw in history!" Someone else noted "he was having a catch with Sterling in the radio booth."
Bernie extended his hitting streak to 20 games on this day, to ultimatly stop and halt at 21. For some reason Danny Tartabull was called "shoehead" on the scorecard. I have no idea....as for Melido he was savagely booed off the mound when he left in the 6th, after getting pounded for 7 runs on 9 hits and a monster home run from Mike Macfarlane.
Both hitting legend and legendary weakstick Jose Lind went 3-4 for the Royals on this mundane afternoon. But fuck....Chris Haney??? Of the 38-52 lifetime record?
There were 43,606 people on hand and 42,099 broken watches by the 7th inning stretch. Your umpires were once again Tim Welke, Drew Coble, the late and lamented Durwood Merrill, and John Hirschbeck, and the game was played at a 2 hour and 34 minute clip.
Thanks for reading!
"Cheap Watch Day! - Umpires Must Die!"
LOL. I remember talking about this one years later. That cheap digital watch giveway. The watches that were magically working when they handed them to us at the gate, but were broken by the time the 2nd inning rolled around. What a piece of crap. Mine was actually broken BEFORE THE FIRST INNING STARTED, as duly noted on the scorecard.
Old school rap legend and bleacher creature Melle Mel, who I actually called Stevie Wonder back then for his dead-on impersonation of such, made the point that the plastic bag the watch came in "would make a great propholactic" Hey, anyone else remember him singing "I just called....to say.....I love you!" with his sunglasses, head lolling back and forth, and goofy grin, while the bleachers roared?
Showing what passed as an "anniversary" for me in those carefree days, I got my drink on early that Lords Day, celebrating 5 years to the day since I had headed away to SUNY New Paltz. Over the years it was funny to run into people from school out there, where we would laugh about my controversial stints as hotshot newspaper columnist and President of Scudder Hall, a position I was forced to resign after an ugly scandal. Trust me on that one!
"Down in front, Captain Lou Albano!" someone screamed as the festivities got under way. "Jump, Truman Capote!" someone else howled. "Jump, Rick Cerone, Jump!" yelled a third. Lots of dopplegangers about, obviously.
Melido Perez was stretching before the game and was serenaded by a caustic voice howling "don't party with Pascual, alright?"
Families were once again taking a hit, carrying over the theme of the previous night. With Brian McRae, a popular bleacher foe parked in center again, someone shouted "you suck, and your father does too!" The ever-popular "Daddys Boy!" sing-song chant filled the air as well.
Remember I mentioned that button with the Met log enconsed in a cartoon pile of shit that they sold at Greek Steve's fast-foodery across the street? Well, we tossed one to bispectacled Yankee reliever Paul Gibson before the game, during BP. He chuckled and pocketed it, giving us a wink and an impish grin.
While we hooted on the Royals a Blue Jay fan leaned over the loge with a grin, and he was met with a poignant "Toronto sucks too, you asshole up there!!" Someone else added, "stop posing for a box of Animal Crackers, you asshole!"
Captain Bob autographed my scorecard AGAIN. I think I was taking this autograph gig a bit far now, when I was having the same guys signing the thing over and over. And its not like I didnt see them every homestand at this time. Someone else who called themselves "Jumpin' Jose" signed the card, noting himself as "a fan of the game in the bleachers!"
Someone had an UMPIRES MUST DIE sign. Very straight and to the point.
The game was a joke. Yankees were SHUT OUT. By Chris Haney, of all people. Haney walked 5 but only gave up 4 hits, and the Yankees plodded to a 7-0 loss, in a Stadium I had optomistically described as "sun central" hours earlier.
One funny game note was a wild throwing error by Randy Velarde out in left field. I actually called it "the WORST throw in history!" Someone else noted "he was having a catch with Sterling in the radio booth."
Bernie extended his hitting streak to 20 games on this day, to ultimatly stop and halt at 21. For some reason Danny Tartabull was called "shoehead" on the scorecard. I have no idea....as for Melido he was savagely booed off the mound when he left in the 6th, after getting pounded for 7 runs on 9 hits and a monster home run from Mike Macfarlane.
Both hitting legend and legendary weakstick Jose Lind went 3-4 for the Royals on this mundane afternoon. But fuck....Chris Haney??? Of the 38-52 lifetime record?
There were 43,606 people on hand and 42,099 broken watches by the 7th inning stretch. Your umpires were once again Tim Welke, Drew Coble, the late and lamented Durwood Merrill, and John Hirschbeck, and the game was played at a 2 hour and 34 minute clip.
Thanks for reading!
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