The Last Sox Game(s)

  As soon as I found out I had tickets to the last 3 Sox games ever at the old Yankee Stadium, my friend from Boston and I decided that it would be just fabulous to go together.  For once a  plan of ours actually worked out, and about six months later we were at the Stadium, thoroughly enjoying some historic games.

  The first two were fairly uninteresting and lopsided, but the third and final game was absolutely riveting.  The Yankees won of course, thanks pretty much completely to Moose and Giambi (and a little bit of Cody Ransom…and some Brett Gardner…), providing a very nice little ending to the whole Rivalry at the Stadium thing. (Cody Ransom, by the way, ended the day with an average of .750 and had his first hit that wasn’t a homer.  Good for him.)  A-Rod was booed non-stop by some guys sitting a few rows in front of me, which was actually pretty funny.  If Jeter bobbled a catch and screwed up a douple play, they would say, “A-Rod, why would you do that?” Likewise if Giambi fell down or someone was caught stealing or something. 

  Actually, in the end Brett Gardner was the one who practically fell down.  Giambi had his lovely little walkoff hit to left center and Gardner’s just hanging out on third waiting to see where it lands.  You know, for tagging up and whatnot, which would have been smart if it had been anywhere near any outfielder.  So he kind of tripped and half-fell and ran home when he realized he could, which was cute.  My throat did not appreciate the wild screaming that went on when he finally crossed the plate and was mobbed by the rest of the Yankees, but it was worth it.

 

Cody Ransom is awesome.

The last first batter ever for Boston- Ellsbury (and Moose pitching).

The last first batter for the Yanks against the Sox- Johnny (and Lester pitching).

Damaso Marte and Mo playing catch.

The A-Rod Post (It Had to Happen Eventually)

   I don’t like to get on to the topic of A-Rod too much, because he tends to piss people off and make everyone act irrational and stupid no matter what they think of him, but I feel that the anti-clutchiness that is him has to be acknowledged.  Before that, let me make one thing clear: A-Rod is an absolutely stellar baseball player. He is one of the all-time greats and I really do hope that he breaks that home run record so that we don’t have to cringe whenever we talk about it, and I know that he’ll do it.  But honestly, would it kill him to get a useful hit?  He has wonderful numbers, obviously, and he gets plenty of hits and homers in early innings or laughers, but lately it seems like it’s impossible for A-Rod to provide help when it’s actually needed.  It’s gotten to the point where, during close games, I pretty much give up if I see A-Rod in the on-deck circle and hope that, if there is another inning, someone else will do some damage (try Giambi or Johnny…ooh, or Nady).  For some people it gets to the point where they say that A-Rod just plain sucks, which is not true.  But in the clutch?  Yes, lately, he really does suck. 

  And some seem to be confused as to why A-Rod’s screw-ups get so much more attention than, oh, say, Jeter’s.  Maybe it’s because Jeter is, well, Jeter, and he has never given us any reason to dislike him or really wish he would go away, which is more than can be said for A-Rod.  Yes, Jeter did kind of fail miserably in the postseason last year, but frankly, so did most of the rest of the team.  But fans will always like Derek Jeter more than A-Rod for many reasons.  A-Rod hasn’t won a World Series yet, which obviously means that the Yankes haven’t since he’s been on the team, which is, of course, completely and only A-Rod’s fault (not).  Jeter…well, I think everyone pretty much knows about his postseason career.   A-Rod also opted out of his contract last year and Jeter is basically going to be a Yankee (at least at heart) until he drops dead. 

  Frankly,  I think A-Rod deserves the boos.  Each of his at-bats costs $50,000 and too many of the important ones are wasted.  I’m not going to melt into a puddle of ”good old Yankees” nostalgia, but I would rather have some random guy who gets big hits when we need them (*points giant neon flashing arrow at Aaron Boone, shakes fist at his stupidity and apparently sucky basketball playing*) than a superstar with obvious issues in the clutch (like A-Rod).

Mingling With the Beautiful People

  In my lifetime, I have met a total of five Yankees, all former.  I met every one of them in the last month or so.

  First was Bobby Murcer.  He was having a book signing for his new one, Yankee for Life.  He was friendly, but I also got there pretty late and he seemed a little tired.  I mean, he is a cancer patient, so doing the signing was pretty cool of him.  That was a freakishly long line, too. 

  Next, three in the same day.  Graig Nettles, Ron Guidry, and Don Mattingly all sat at their respective tables and signed balls and photos while that day’s Yankee game played on an enormous TV behind and above Mattingly.  I spent the few minutes left waiting on line in the room before getting autographs watching the game in awe- I have never seen a TV so huge.  Those were larger than life-size baseball players. 

  Nettles and Guidry seemed a little grumpy, since most people chose to just pay for Mattingly’s autograph instead of all three, but they were nice enough when I went over.  Mattingly was just plain friendly, and my dad and I ended up having a conversation with him about horses, my other love.  Apparently poor Donnie is down to five horses now (pity), but he seems to think it’s for the best, since horses are a pretty big responsibility.  It seems like the Mattinglys own Saddlebreds and the youngest son is the rider. 

  Last, just yesterday, was Yogi Berra.  This time we got there a good 45 minutes early, which meant we got to meet Yogi pretty early in the signing but also that we had to stand outside in the heat for a good amount of time.  Oh well.  The guy on line before us seemed to be an avid collector of baseball memorabilia and, based on the conversation he was having with his dad, seemed slightly obsessive about authenticating autographs he’d gotten himself.  Okay.  If you’re selling the stuff, whatever, people want to be sure it’s real.  But personally, if I’m keeping that memorabilia, I don’t need to prove to other people that it’s real.  Isn’t it good enough that you got to meet a famous baseball player and get something signed by him just for you?  I think just having that memory is a whole lot cooler than having an official, shiny sticker to put on whatever you got signed.

  So, that guy needed to take out all kinds of papers and forms and things and make the whole autographing thing official before he left.  I basically stepped up, got the book (You Can Observe a Lot By Watching) signed, said hi, and left.  I’m pretty sure Yogi said, “Hi, Dear,” to me.  Or at least I’m sure enough that I’ve been telling everyone about it all day. 

Next game: 7 days

Possible historic moments: Jeter’s 200th homer

Missed historic moments: Griffey’s 600th (My next game is a Reds game.)

Who Won?

  I am officially bad luck weather-wise.

  First game: April 4th. Rainy and very cold.

  Second game: May 2nd: Freezing.

  Third game: May 16th. Rained out. And I was surrounded by rambunctious drunken Mets and Yankees fans waiting for the ferry.

  I got to the stadium, went to the bathroom, and grabbed a hot dog, iced tea, and a bag of Cracker Jacks. I sat down and watched the rain come in. In the stadium you can actually see rain, fog, or whatever other awful game-interruptor decides to ruin everything slowly move in. I never thought I’d be able to actually use the phrase “sheets of rain” without trying to think of something more original, but these were pure sheets. (Curtains?) 

  The Lady is a Tramp was playing when I sat down. I had about two bites of my hot dog left when Guy Who is Not Bob Sheppard announced that the game was not going to happen. There was a collective grumble among the not-so-many Yankees and Mets fans who actually showed up and we all hurried out to try to at least get home and dry off early.

  Oh yeah. And Santana was going to pitch. Yeah, THAT Santana.

  Well, my next game is next Friday, so at least I get that. Another Mariners game. The excitement of Mariners games is getting old pretty fast. The one was just fine. But it’s baseball and it’s the Yankees so I’ll take it.

  Next game: 5 days.

 

Should We Be Sad Now?

  Okay, the lack of baseball is starting to make me more than a little insane. I have watched exactly two complete games so far this season- the two I’ve been to. I’ve listened to some on the radio in the car on the way home from the barn or caught an inning or two on TV between eating and working, but really that is just not enough. I’m very behind.

  It looks like Kennedy will be coming back soon, which is nice. However, A-Rod is out a bit longer, along with about half of our useless band of cripples  team.

  Goose Gossage is already exercising his new complaining and advice-giving privileges that apparently come with the Hall induction. Dellucci seems to have company in thinking that Joba is a little too exuberant in his celebrations on the mound.

  Do they realize that he’s been doing this since he came up?

  Last August?

  In my opinion, they should lay off. It’s very obvious that this is just Joba’s personality. He’s an emotional guy- he definitely reacted to Dellucci’s homer before, and he reacted to getting him out later. He’s not trying to show anybody up or dis anyone. He’s just doing what he’s always done: enjoying the game.

Next game: 3 days (Why yes, that IS one of the only three Mets games at the Stadium this year. Hee.)

Game #2, 2008- A Historic One!

So. Last night I went to my second game of 2008 (12 left). It was WONDERFUL.

Let me just remind you all how much I deserved to be at this game. Remember the last one? (See “First Game ’08″- it wasn’t pretty.)

Wang pitched, so obviously they won. Farnsworth pitched a very good 7th (no, I’m not being sarcastic! ) and Joba and Mo finished off the 5-1 victory. Robbie didn’t play, which was sad since he’s my favorite, but Alberto Gonzalez (say his name out loud, fast, it’s too much fun) took his place, so it was fine. The Yanks got a bunch of hits when they needed them without the usual peppering of homers and/or totally worthless singles.

The B Train won again, just like last time, and I guessed right, just like last time. Yeah, I’m that cool.

This was actually my first time seeing Joba pitch in person. I only went to one game last year and it was before he got called up. This time I stood up and screamed as much as a person with disgusting allergies in freezing cold weather could when he came out of the ‘pen, along with basically everyone else in the Stadium. I even missed that ball-under-the-hat game for it. When Mo came out I attempted to scream even louder, along with everyone else. Both pitchers were lovely as always. Mo is ridiculous, but I’ll write more about that sometime soon.

Wang walked out onto the field to ”Heart of a Champion”. They kept a camera on him all the way across the field while the song was playing and showed him all big and up-close up on the screen in centerfield. Very Rocky Balboa.

And then there was the historic part- drumroll, please…

Bobby Murcer came back! That’s right. I have now officially been to a historic Yankee game. I was there the night Bobby Murcer came back to the broadcast booth. So there. Take that, friend who was at David Cone’s perfect game and doesn’t even like baseball!

 

They played that song from Welcome Back Kotter and he stood up and waved to everyone and pulled the little lever thing on the countdown for regular season games left at the Stadium after the end of the 5th. It was all very nice and heartfelt and we cheered. (67 games left as of today, in case you were wondering.)

The bleachers in left field decided to start a wave at some point, which, after a few tries, made its way all around the stadium, getting cheers from the bleachers that started it, until it got to the right-center field bleachers. The people out there were either utterly oblivious to the fact that the entire stadium had been going through a routine together or felt like snubbing the other bleachers to show their superiority. I’m going for a mixture of both, depending on levels of awareness, cups of beer drunk, and good ol’ bleacher pride. Whatever the reason for the non-participation, they got boos from everyone, which I found hilarious.

After the game I got a Hughes T-shirt to show support for our injured baby Yankee. The poor guy is getting beaten up this year (phsyically as well as mentally, apparently) and I think the fresh start he’ll get when he comes back will actually be a good thing. He’s a great pitcher, which we all know, but he’s also 21 years old. Some really great pitchers have had some really crappy years, especially early on, so we just have to wait it out. I’ve also heard that Phil will have glasses when he comes back. I don’t know what to say about that. I do have an idea, and it’s a lame superstitious one: maybe Phil should change his number back to 65. He’s struggled ever since he changed it. Not saying that’s the reason or anything, or that it will magically make him go back to normal, but I think it’s a bit obvious.

My dad and I had a nice conversation with a Mariners fan here for the weekend from Seattle on the subway on the way to the Stadium. He asked about the new stadium and how that was going and we filled him in on progress and said he could see it himself. My dad said it was “about time for a new one” and I said, “No! It’s not,” which seemed to amuse the Mariners fan. (Okay, so the new stadium does look ridiculously nice. Someone needs to be the stubborn old fan in this family and it looks like it’s gonna have to be me.)

The rowdiness level seemed pretty low, aside from some drunken shouts and a Yankee fan kid knocking off a Mariner fan kid’s rally cap. Pretty sure they came together though.

All in all, it was a pretty great game. Game #3: May 16th, Mets. Fingers crossed for Sanatana! And weather above like 50 degrees. That would be nice. 

Joba

  As you’ve probably heard, Joba Chamberlain’s dad collapsed recently and is in some sort of critical condition. Joba’s out right now to be with his dad and his family. We all love Joba and he’s one of the best guys on the Yankees and probably one of the nicest guys around. Let’s hope everything goes well and Joba can come back soon.

“As many of you know, my family is dealing with a serious, personal medical condition involving my father Harlan,” Chamberlain said in a statement released Monday by the Yankees. “He is currently in critical but stable condition. We cannot express how much we appreciate the enormous amount of love and compassion that has been shown to my family by so many.”

Chamberlain learned of his father’s condition after the Yankees’ 8-5 loss to the Red Sox at Fenway Park. Chamberlain returned a telephone call from his sister after the game and reportedly broke down in tears in the clubhouse, where he was consoled by manager Joe Girardi.  – www.yankees.com

  I don’t know how to get to Joba or anything if you want to contact him (except by mail to the Stadium), but I know some people have been posting comments on Hughesy’s blog leaving notes for Joba. (www.philhughes.wordpress.com)

First Game ’08

  One game down, 13 to go. Last Friday I got to the Stadium just in time for the beginning of the game after totally giving up on caring about personal space on the subway with the other late fans. I mean, I’ve been on the subway 2349520958 times, but wow. I didn’t even have to hold on to anything to stand still.

  Of course, last Friday wasn’t the best time to be at the Stadium. The Yanks pulled off a miraculous 13-4 loss to the Rays. The pitching was actually pretty good, aside from the whole Kennedy, Hawkins, and Farnsworth thing. Someone remind me why we got Hawkins? Because he’s doing pretty crappy even for a crappy pitcher. (Or, as the Stadium’s security people say, “He’s a fuckin’ bum!”)

  I did get to move down to practically right down by home plate, right behind the chained-off front section and a little to the left of the plate, since the only people left were basically me, my dad, and a bunch of guys who were too drunk to know the Yankees were losing and seemed to have a lot of faith in Morgan Ensberg to save the day. I honestly did not know you could get that close. I mean, I knew those seats were there, obviously. But I’ve never ever sat that close before. I could see the players’ faces in the dugout. That was just weird. And awesome. I am sooo gonna get rich and blow all my money on those seats some day.

  I did get to see the new stadium too. It looks really really nice. I’m warming up to it a little, even if it is made for rich people and makes it even more less likely I’ll ever get good season tickets. Oh well. It’s pretty. And it’s closer than I thought. That thing is literally right across the street. Like a 12-second walk away. The last time I saw it was last July and it looked a lot farther away then. Probably because it was just a big pile of stuff in the middle of that block.

A (40-mph) Pitcher’s Story

  So, in my neverending quest to become a somewhat decent pitcher for no particular reason, I have discovered that I have absolutely no upper-body strength. Which might also be part of the reason why I got a D in swimming this semester. But whatever.

  Besides this, I found a mysterious cruddy old baseball in the park by my house yesterday while I was playing catch with my dad. If it’s still there today I’ll take some pictures of it and put them up here, because it was autographed in a bunch of places but I didn’t recognize any of the signatures. It could have just been a bunch of people with really nice signatures who decided to sign it. Or a bunch of Newark Bears or something.

  I realized I have just about no idea how to actually make pitches move. I mean, my pitches move on their own. But the whole grip thing is still a mystery to me. All I’ve really got is speed change. Which means 40 mph fastball and 25 or 30 mph change, I’d say. Which is fabulous if you’re playing in a middle school slowpitch softball league. So any pitching tips would be nice, good people of Baseball (might post a vid).

  Hughesy is pitching today against the Sox. Turns out he’s been a Sox fan his whole life. Which is kind of weird. But that’s okay, he’s with us now. According to his bio on yankees.com, he’s the youngest Yankee pitcher to debut since Jose Rijo in ’84, who was 18 in his first game. He’s the youngest Yankee to debut as a starter since Gene Nelson in ’81, who was 20. According to the Elias Sports Bureau, his 6.1 inning no-hitter was the furthest into a game a Yankees starter had been removed since David Cone in ’96 (7 innings). He’s also a huge Office fan and seems to like a lot of hard rock and heavy metal and whatnot (so he says on his blog- www.philhughes.wordpress.com). His bio (http://newyork.yankees.mlb.com/team/player_career.jsp?player_id=461833) says about a gajillion other awesome things about him and a bit about Joba too.

And don’t even get me started on the eyebrows.

Good luck to Phil. I’ll be watching the game, working, and out back trying to pitch.  

 

 

 

 

Mail Time

Today I came home to find one of the most important packages a person can get waiting for me. It was a big-arse UPS box whose return address started with “N.Y.Y.” I don’t think I can describe how close I came to actual DEATH from awesome-overload right there. Or lockjaw or something.

 So I opened the box and voila! 138 tickets for 46 games. They were all on a little pad with a photo of the Stadium on the cover and came with a little pamphlet filled with pages and pages of wonderfully sentimental babbling about the last year there. 

This is exciting enough alone, but this is also the first year I’ve had any kind of season tickets, half or otherwise, and I feel all special with all these games. I’m trying not to picture myself sitting on a pile of tickets, tossing them up and having a big group of them swirl around me…not really working.

Countdown to first game (for me this season): 16 days