Story Time

15 10 2009

Since there’s a break between football and the baseball playoffs and I’m too upset about the Jets loss to watch any SportsCenter I figured I’d reminisce with a little story…

So this summer, on August 9th I was lucky enough to get tickets to the Yankees-Red Sox game. It was my first opportunity to go to the new stadium and the game was fantastic. But it was the story leading up to the game and something that happened in the 9th inning that led me to retell it.

The story starts with my dad telling my brother and I sometime in July that we have tickets to the Sunday night Yankees-Red Sox game in August. As it got closer to that night, my brother decided to stay an additional week at camp leaving us with an extra ticket. So of course I was thinking, which one of my friends should I invite? [I mean, this was a big game, I wanted to watch it with a true Yankee fan.] My dad, on the other hand, decided that it would be a good idea to invite my mom. Now don’t get me wrong, I love my mother very dearly, but she is by no means a sports fan, let alone a Yankee fan.

Well, I was having none of this. My mom would not appreciate one of the most important games of the regular season vs. our most hated rival. So…I staged a boycott. I know, pretty fucking stupid. All I can say is that I somehow convinced myself that I’d watch the game on a big screen with my friends and enjoy it just as much. [Well not just as much, but that’s what beer is for.] Yes I’m obviously an idiot but I was sticking to my idiotic principles. Call me spoiled, call me a brat, whatever, it made no sense in my mind for my mom to go to a game she wouldn’t appreciate over a real baseball fan. I’m also not gonna lie…I know my mom pretty well and there was definitely a thought in the back of my mind that she would bail last minute. I mean, it was a Sunday night, she had things to do the next morning, and it’s quite a schlep all the way to the Bronx [haha…“schlep”, I would only use that when describing my mom].

Sooooooooooo. Waddya know, my mom bailed at the last minute. Pretty much like 15 minutes before they were planning on leaving. I mean you could basically hear her saying to my dad in the other room: “Bro, I’m sure I want to go to this dumb baseball game and get home at 1am. Just let our fat, loser of a son go.” [It was slightly muffled while I was listening, so I’m sort of guessing that’s what she said.]

Alas, I went to the game with my dad and my cousin. The game was awesome. Here’s an excerpt from to refresh your memory of what happened that night.

The late rally came after Victor Martinez had snapped a 31-inning scoreless streak with a two-run homer off Phil Coke in the eighth. Damon crushed a fastball for his 21st homer before Teixeira put the Bombers ahead, teeing off on a Bard curveball for his American League-leading 29th round-tripper. Nick Swisher provided cushion with a two-run single off Hideki Okajima, and Mariano Rivera locked down the ninth inning for his American League-leading 32nd save. The heroics created a thumping Stadium atmosphere that the Yankees, now a season-best 27 games over .500, could relish.

In the 9th inning, after my boy swish nasty basically clinched it, we decided to leave our seats and go to the standing area behind us so we could make a quick exit when the game ended. I was standing, half-watching the last inning, texting some people at the same time. That was when the steroid king himself, David Ortiz, stepped to the plate. All of a sudden I heard the crack of the bat, looked up and a ball was flying towards us. Naturally, if I wasn’t fumbling to put my prized iPhone back into my pocket I would have back flipped off a table and barehanded that sucker. But luckily my cousin and this other random fan jumped and tipped the ball behind me. It bounced off a chair and hopped onto the ground. I was wearing cargo shorts and since the ball was on the ground I reacted without thinking, falling to my knees to cover up the ball. I bobbled it a bit, but finally brought in into my chest and held it up in triumph. Bleeding knees and all I arose to my feet to watch Mariano Rivera finish the sweep.

So there it is, the opposite of karma at it’s best. If you have the opportunity to attend a huge baseball game at a new stadium that you’ve never been to, tell the person who invited you to go screw themselves if they think they’re going to invite some dumb girl [not you mom] instead of someone who actually cares. Because if you do, you’ll end up going to the game, watching a thrilling come from behind win and grabbing a foul ball in the stands.





Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: