Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Why I Don't Root For Godzilla

Dateline, The nearest Red Sox bar I could find, The Hairy Monk, one of the few good reasons to go to the East Side. And.they.still.had.the.Yankees.Opening.Ceremony.on.the.Telly.

There they were, in their nauseating glory, introduced not once, but twice..... And Matsui, in an Angel suit... I tell my Yankee-fan friends that being a Yankees fan just isn't interesting. Rooting for the Romans isn't interesting. I wonder if it sinks in at all..

Kristen Chenoweth, a trained opera singer, rocks the Stars-Go-Bang-Bang and some Navy guys fly a couple of attack fighter/bombers overhead.

Soscia and Girardi, past catchers both... classy guys. I actually respect individual Yankees, but the whole concept of "Wow.... you did such a great job as 2009 World Series MVP that we're shipping your sagging ass to California.... " (see Matsui, above) is the classless move of a corporation, not a team, that might have, you know, organs... such as A HEART!

1:10 p.m. -- Thank God they put the Dropkick Murphy's on the Juke during the commercial break.

1:11 --- Ooh. A first-pitch strike at 88 mph....... hurt me, Andy.... hurt me.

1:15 -- Abreau strikes out -- just as well. I hate that dude.

1:20 -- Matsui steps up, and some twitnozzle in the crowd holds up a sign that says, "Matsui We love you longtime" which somehow compares the former Yankee Left Fielder with a Vietnamese whore... Nice.

1:21 -- Matsui's gone. Another ex-Yankee strikes out... my feelings are conflicted

1:26 -- Nick Johnson. Yeah.... this was the kid on the school bus who you hoped wouldn't sit next to you...... homerun. I really don't like this guy.

1:29 -- Flashing back to the team introductions.... The Yankees have the gall to play Star Wars theme when the players are announced.... and we're supposed to believe that the Angels are the Empire, which makes the Yankees..... the Rebellion??? If Han Friggin' Solo wasn't a Red Sox fan, then I'll save Billy Dee the hassle and appear in the next Colt 45 ad myself.

1:40 --- You know, computer companies totally lie about battery length! Bottom of the Second. Cano is up and is already having a good season..

1:44 -- Runners at the corners, no outs, and Curtis Grand-stand-erson up.... not good.

1:49 -- Swisher Swiffs..... Strike Two was a nasty, nasty curve.

1:52 -- The kid pitches himself out of a bad situation. Props.

1:52:15 -- I celebrate the Third Strike a little too loudly, and the two Yankee goons near me at the bar are not amused....

1:57 -- Abreu up again. Hoping Andy strikes him out. Yeah.... Still 1-0 Yanks.

2:05 -- Jeter solo shot.... whatever.

2:07 -- sweet 3-6 Double Play.... and not for nothing, but what the hell does 3 and 6 have to do with it? I've never grokked that particular system. Help a brother out.

2:10 -- Now 2-0, top of the Fourth. For your entertainment, I present a used set of catcher's gear that I'm looking into...

The Tuxedo Park Terrors made their 2010 debut Sunday night at the Meadowbrook fields in South Orange, NJ, with Yours Truly behind the plate for most of the game. We won 17-9, our first victory EVER. So I'm buying some gear.

It looks like Boba Fett disintegrated the guy, late in the afternon one April day, leaving only his gear behind.... it's a catcher inorganic chalk outline...

2:14 -- Pettitte still has the stuff. Six strikeouts in 4 innings. One inning for each of the "T"s in his name. Hence, his SPT ratio is 1.5. Just sayin'

2:17 --- I'm embedded at one of the few available power points in this fine Publick House, thereby ensuring my little live-blog project will last to the end of the Alleged Home Opener.... I'm pretty sure all five of you are psyched.

2:19  -- Posado grounds out --- HAH!    U - S - A !! U - S - A !!

2:24 -- a Commenter!! Praise Jesus. One comment before the Angels have even scored, however. I'm not sure which that bodes worse for.... my first attempt at liveblogging, or the California Angels...

2:28 -- Ugh. Bad break for the Angels with an infield single for Jeter. Bases loaded, and the schoolbus bully at the plate. I'm hiding my eyes.

2:30 -- Are you kidding me? There are empty seats at that alleged stadium. It's Opening Day, you fickle so-and-so's! Fenway's been sold out since 2003. You should send the three guys you stranded this inning into the stands to plug the gaps. If you're a member of "yankee nation," it's just $35 million well spent...

2:33 -- Yanks only scored one run in last inning's trainwreck. With just .73% more control, this kid Santana is going to be a lights-out hurler in the Bigs. Does one capitalize "Bigs"? I think I'll capitalize "Bigs" just to up my confidence level as a Rookie live-blogger.

Anyway, if Santana can't get his pitching game together, there's always the guitar... 

Ar ar ar ar ar ar ar!

2:37 -- Pettttttittttttte is at 80-some pitches... Time for him to make a mistake.

2:39 -- oh crap. But not with Abreu. I hate Abreu. AAAAAAAAAAnd: He pops out. The Gunkie.

3:36 -- egads!!!! YANKEE PUBLICK RELATIONS OFFICE BLOCKS BLAISERBLOG WIRELESS ACCESS!!! I just managed to get back online. Freakish. And definitely not a coincidence

Meanwhile, both starters are replaced, the Yanks keep swingin' and Nick Swisher makes a totally unnecessary tuck-and-roll. Yankees strutting at 5-0 bottom of the 7th

I missed my 7th-inning stretch comic: here it is.

3:50 -- Blog updates greatly slowed not only to vast Yankee conspiracy, but also hot-fudge Sundae...

3:52 -- Angel offense less energized than my Old-Guy-Suburban-Softball League team... WAIT! A SOLO SHOT----from my keyboard to Chan Ho Park's weakened mind... 5-1 Yankees.

3:55 -- Posada flummoxed by extra gear in the on-deck circle. If he ever did anything but scowl, I might feel for the guy.

4:00 -- Mike Soscia has put on another five pounds since the start of this game. Apparently he was once under 200 lbs....

4:03 -- The uber-expensive seats behind home plate are as thinning as.... well they all shave their heads, don't they? This is exactly what I'm talking about. Phoning it in because they don't have to, because they have too damn much money. $*(%^@

4:09 -- Yankees 7-1. They're definitely on the ropes. If I were Soscia, now would be the correct time to release the tigers...

4:13 -- Jeter's jump-throw misses. Not anymore old man, you're in your nearly late-30s now...


4:15 -- Um, what I actually meant to type was: Two men on, no outs. Top of the Ninth

4:17 -- Yankee "closer" gets a spanking from angry Bomber pitching staff... It's like the bad guys from The Karate Kid all over again....

4:20 -- Grand Slam. Mother Flippin' Grand Slam. And of course it would be Bobby Abreu. I don't know whether to cheer wildly, or to go out and play in traffic on Third Avenue.... 7--5 Yanks. Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a Ninth Inning....

4:23 -- Enter the Sandman. This may be shorter than I'd hoped... Still, the man is mortal, and Torii is up, despite his racialist comments about Dominicans....

4:25 -- Bombers clip Angels' wings, 7--5. Thanks to CAL (my one commenter), The Hairy Monk for their fine AC outlet and neighbor-with-free-Internet and the Boddington's Beer Company. Insert any number of Crash Davis quotes here...

Thanks for reading. And always try to remember that just because you can button your shirt in front of a bunch of reporters, it doesn't mean that you have a quantifiable soul that might actually ascend to something when Jonathan Papelbon sends you to your maker, sometime in late October, 2010.


  1. 3-6 Double Play ... I think that would be firstbase man (3) to shortstop (6). The numbers refer to positions.

  2. This presents a blogging conundrum, or perhaps it's a Rookie mistake I'm about to make... do I respond to comments here, or in the main feed?

    And who decreed First Base was a Three? I don't get it.

  3. Pitcher 1, catcher 2, first 3, second 4, third 5, short stop 6, left 7, center 8, right 9. Who decreed it? Why who else Wikipedia!

  4. is it baseball season already? weren't we just playing fooball?

  5. The position numbers go further back than wikipedia. I remember them from my minor league days (as a child; not as a member of a major league farm team).