When In Rome
As you may know, I am a Yankees fan. Right back at you Shelli.
If you pay attention to sports, you will know that the Yanks, this weekend, had to play five games in four days against their heated rivals, the Red Sox. Through the first four games the Red Sox, I am pleased to report, played much like a minor league team and have lost all four games while giving up about 12 runs a games and issuing so many walks that I have started to confuse their pitchers with grade school crossing guards.
And to make things even better, I was able to go to the game at Fenway last night, when the the Yankees tied the game in the 9th and then won it in the 10th, thereby ripping the hearts out of Boston fans everywhere, showing them their still beating hearts, and then throwing the damn things to the floor and grinding them to little bits of cardio-blobs.
Naturally I showed up for the game wearing my Yankees shirt, because I can't get enough of being told how much I suck or what a douchebag I am. Hey, it's their stadium and as long as the Yankees win, it's all good. Although my brother and I did get thrown out of the bleachers once after a fan threw garbage behind him, hit my brother in the face, and seconds later found himself wearing a beer. The heated discussion that followed, which may or may not have involved fists, did nothing to resolve the controversy as to whether or not the Treaty of Versiailles made WWII inevitable.
At any rate, I thoroughly enjoyed the four Boston fans next to us last night. There was a rain delay of about an hour, so by the 4th inning they were unbeleivably shit-faced. One of them was beyond obnoxious, screaming "GIAMBEEEEEEEEEEEE" everytime Jason Giambi came to the plate. Or at least every time until Giambi hit a 3-run homer; then he was quiet. For some reason her also felt compelled to yell, (and I swear on my kids I'm not making this up) "Freedom" and "I am William Wallace" at the top of his lungs. I checked; it wasn't Mel Gibson, although he may have been just as drunk as Mel was when he was pulled over.
The guy next to me was less obnoxious but possibly more drunk. He kept telling me he was OK with my wearing a Yankees shirt "as long as you're cool", (dude, if I wasn't cool my 8 year old could knock you down at this point), and advising me that he and his friends paid $330 each for their seats. Wow. My friend paid $42 and gave me a ticket. I win. He was also chewing tobacco and spitting it into a cup. I watched him miss two consecutive times and hit his own arm.
The worst part of the night was having to leave in the 8th inning because the Boston subway system, (the "T" for those of us in the know), was going to stop running at 12:45. What kind of major league town shuts down their mass transit system at 12:45 on a game night? While it was fun to listen to everyone groan when Derek Jeter tied the game in the 9th, I would have much rather actually watched it.
Oh, and to the guy next to me who promised he wouldn't call Jeter a homo? He makes $18 million a year to play baseball and you just spit tobacco on yourself not once, but twice. I somehow don't think Jeter really cares if you yell "HOMOOOOOOOO" at the top of your lungs all night long.
Just, for God's sake, take the tobacco out before you do it.
If you pay attention to sports, you will know that the Yanks, this weekend, had to play five games in four days against their heated rivals, the Red Sox. Through the first four games the Red Sox, I am pleased to report, played much like a minor league team and have lost all four games while giving up about 12 runs a games and issuing so many walks that I have started to confuse their pitchers with grade school crossing guards.
And to make things even better, I was able to go to the game at Fenway last night, when the the Yankees tied the game in the 9th and then won it in the 10th, thereby ripping the hearts out of Boston fans everywhere, showing them their still beating hearts, and then throwing the damn things to the floor and grinding them to little bits of cardio-blobs.
Naturally I showed up for the game wearing my Yankees shirt, because I can't get enough of being told how much I suck or what a douchebag I am. Hey, it's their stadium and as long as the Yankees win, it's all good. Although my brother and I did get thrown out of the bleachers once after a fan threw garbage behind him, hit my brother in the face, and seconds later found himself wearing a beer. The heated discussion that followed, which may or may not have involved fists, did nothing to resolve the controversy as to whether or not the Treaty of Versiailles made WWII inevitable.
At any rate, I thoroughly enjoyed the four Boston fans next to us last night. There was a rain delay of about an hour, so by the 4th inning they were unbeleivably shit-faced. One of them was beyond obnoxious, screaming "GIAMBEEEEEEEEEEEE" everytime Jason Giambi came to the plate. Or at least every time until Giambi hit a 3-run homer; then he was quiet. For some reason her also felt compelled to yell, (and I swear on my kids I'm not making this up) "Freedom" and "I am William Wallace" at the top of his lungs. I checked; it wasn't Mel Gibson, although he may have been just as drunk as Mel was when he was pulled over.
The guy next to me was less obnoxious but possibly more drunk. He kept telling me he was OK with my wearing a Yankees shirt "as long as you're cool", (dude, if I wasn't cool my 8 year old could knock you down at this point), and advising me that he and his friends paid $330 each for their seats. Wow. My friend paid $42 and gave me a ticket. I win. He was also chewing tobacco and spitting it into a cup. I watched him miss two consecutive times and hit his own arm.
The worst part of the night was having to leave in the 8th inning because the Boston subway system, (the "T" for those of us in the know), was going to stop running at 12:45. What kind of major league town shuts down their mass transit system at 12:45 on a game night? While it was fun to listen to everyone groan when Derek Jeter tied the game in the 9th, I would have much rather actually watched it.
Oh, and to the guy next to me who promised he wouldn't call Jeter a homo? He makes $18 million a year to play baseball and you just spit tobacco on yourself not once, but twice. I somehow don't think Jeter really cares if you yell "HOMOOOOOOOO" at the top of your lungs all night long.
Just, for God's sake, take the tobacco out before you do it.
posted by limpy99 at 9:25 AM
10 Comments:
I'll thank you to scrape together the pieces of my husband's shattered heart and send it back to us, please. He's native to Worcester, and it killed him. Yeah, see, it's all fun and games until someone gets hurt.... Get busy. I need him alive, please.
Nothing beats the ambiance of watching a game in person. The smells, the drunks, the general excitement. Always a good time.
This story reminded me of when my old boyfriend and I use to go the the local college games. If there were rival fans in front of us, we use to wad up the tinfoil from our hotdogs and such, then my boyfriend would wing-it, I mean with all his strength, at the back of a rival fans' head. Then we both would immediately turn around and look behind us, like we were trying to figure out where it came from too. Then when they turned back around we'd laugh hysterically. Good times.
Ahh, Worcester. I dated a girl from there in a previous life. One of the ugliest cities I remember, although I did enjoy the smell of fresh bread from that factory off of I-395.
Nonny, the guy we dealt with in the bleachers was throwing trash backwards over his head, really hard. This was remarkably stupid, since he was trying to hit people but didn't know who he was hitting. Which is pretty stupid when there are two guys bigger than you with full beers.
How cool. I changed the channel when they rolled out the tarp. The commentators made it sound like it was going to rain all night. Fucking Bonnie Bernstein.
BTW, since this is baseball related. Did you hear about this kid? I bet he shaves and has a couple kids of his own already. Could his reported age possibly be true???
I read about him today. Reminds me of the joke: What do you do with an elephant with three balls?
Walk him and pitch to the rhino.
I just told the Hubs about this entry and he was jealous (up 'til you said you had to leave early). He is dying to go to Fenway Park. In fact, he's been threatening me for YEARS that we're going to travel across the country and visit all the ballparks.
So let me get this straight...a guy once sat IN FRONT of you and threw trash backwards over his head?!?! So EVERYONE could clearly SEE who was throwing the trash? What a fucking idiot. I prefer Nonny's "Throw Forward/Look Behind You" method. Duh.
Both of my boys have t-shirts that read, "I support two teams: New York, and whoever beats Boston".
Nuff said...
You're a good mother Brighton.
limpy, I'd be disappointed if you /didn't/ wear your Yankees shirt to Fenway ;)
"dude, if I wasn't cool my 8 year old could knock you down at this point." too funny.
"Just, for God's sake, take the tobacco out before you do it." priceless!
Post a Comment
<< Home