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Yankees-Red Sox update
Oct. 20th, 2004 12:11 am12:10am EST: oh, damn it all.
Oct. 20th, 2004
Super secret message
Oct. 20th, 2004 12:15 amHey, Cubs fans? (special looks at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
neonhummingbird and butterflykiki)
If the worst happens to the Yankees, would I be forgiven for hoping deep down in my cold black heart that the Cards or Astros win the World Series in decisive, commanding, humiliating fashion?
neonhummingbird and butterflykiki)If the worst happens to the Yankees, would I be forgiven for hoping deep down in my cold black heart that the Cards or Astros win the World Series in decisive, commanding, humiliating fashion?
A realization
Oct. 20th, 2004 12:37 amI kept forgetting: I've got a friends-friends function.
I look at it now? And that list? Is Red Sox Nation.
(With one exception, I just noticed.)
I've come to a realization:
I am a total freak.
Readers of this particular nutcase corner of the Internet may have noticed over the past coupla years that I've developed some decided political leanings. (I swear, in 2000, I was ready to push the button for John McCain if he'd been the nominee instead of the current incumbent.) The political arena has sorta consumed my life for the past half-year, so it tends to leak out into other aspects of my life.
As for my baseball fandom, well, the interlocking NY's been burned into my soul pretty much ever since my mother was learning nuances of English from Phil Rizzuto.
Which apparently gives me a combination of traits that people often assume cannot coexist in the same person. Maybe it's a sign of my impending pre-senile dementia (Google that one quick) or something, but I've started to become rather vocal about it.
So much so that the other day, I got a telephone call about how I could hold my combination of political and baseball views.
From a reporter.
From the New York Times.
That is the whole unvarnished truth.
So help me Joe DiMaggio.
I look at it now? And that list? Is Red Sox Nation.
(With one exception, I just noticed.)
I've come to a realization:
I am a total freak.
Readers of this particular nutcase corner of the Internet may have noticed over the past coupla years that I've developed some decided political leanings. (I swear, in 2000, I was ready to push the button for John McCain if he'd been the nominee instead of the current incumbent.) The political arena has sorta consumed my life for the past half-year, so it tends to leak out into other aspects of my life.
As for my baseball fandom, well, the interlocking NY's been burned into my soul pretty much ever since my mother was learning nuances of English from Phil Rizzuto.
Which apparently gives me a combination of traits that people often assume cannot coexist in the same person. Maybe it's a sign of my impending pre-senile dementia (Google that one quick) or something, but I've started to become rather vocal about it.
So much so that the other day, I got a telephone call about how I could hold my combination of political and baseball views.
From a reporter.
From the New York Times.
That is the whole unvarnished truth.
So help me Joe DiMaggio.
Instead of further agonizing, I think I'll just run through some of the good memories. Just in case that's all I've got 'till next year after tonight.
- My first game in Yankee Stadium with my family. July 4, 1983. We were in the upper deck, and we were all battling heatstroke. It was worth it, though, when we heard the mutterings about how Dave Righetti hadn't given up a hit all day, and then when Wade Boggs came to bat with two out in the ninth ... strikeout. No-hitter. What an introduction to baseball.
- Hearing the radio and enjoying the first mention of a promising rookie by the name of Don Mattingly.
- October 1995, recovering from the 1994 strike, watching the Yankees climb back into the postseason, into respectability, hoping that they could get Donnie Baseball his World Series ring in his final year.
- Watching in amazement as Joe Torre, "Clueless Joe", who I remembered being the hapless manager of the Mets way back when, carry the Yankees through the season, losing one brother to cancer, wondering whether another would survive the year, and then that 1996 Series. Everyone thought Atlanta was going to repeat, and after the Yankees went down two games to none, they were written off as dead and buried. Then they won three in Atlanta, came back to New York...
When the last out was made in Game Six, the PA system immediately struck up the fanfare from "Independence Day" (cheesy movie, good music), segued from there into "New York, New York," and I was officially gone for the Yankees.
- Watching David Wells get carried off the field. (No, they didn't need a forklift, just a bunch of infielders and outfielders.)
- Watching David Cone get carried off the field.
- The growing knowledge that these guys are professionals, they know how to play the game, and when I follow them, most of the time I'll get more than my money's worth.
One nail-biter finish doesn't take all that away.
- My first game in Yankee Stadium with my family. July 4, 1983. We were in the upper deck, and we were all battling heatstroke. It was worth it, though, when we heard the mutterings about how Dave Righetti hadn't given up a hit all day, and then when Wade Boggs came to bat with two out in the ninth ... strikeout. No-hitter. What an introduction to baseball.
- Hearing the radio and enjoying the first mention of a promising rookie by the name of Don Mattingly.
- October 1995, recovering from the 1994 strike, watching the Yankees climb back into the postseason, into respectability, hoping that they could get Donnie Baseball his World Series ring in his final year.
- Watching in amazement as Joe Torre, "Clueless Joe", who I remembered being the hapless manager of the Mets way back when, carry the Yankees through the season, losing one brother to cancer, wondering whether another would survive the year, and then that 1996 Series. Everyone thought Atlanta was going to repeat, and after the Yankees went down two games to none, they were written off as dead and buried. Then they won three in Atlanta, came back to New York...
When the last out was made in Game Six, the PA system immediately struck up the fanfare from "Independence Day" (cheesy movie, good music), segued from there into "New York, New York," and I was officially gone for the Yankees.
- Watching David Wells get carried off the field. (No, they didn't need a forklift, just a bunch of infielders and outfielders.)
- Watching David Cone get carried off the field.
- The growing knowledge that these guys are professionals, they know how to play the game, and when I follow them, most of the time I'll get more than my money's worth.
One nail-biter finish doesn't take all that away.
The sci-fi show meme!
Oct. 20th, 2004 05:45 pmFirst from neonhummingbird, then from everyone else.
eta: The title I chose is Pioneers: The First Days of History.
Hm.
neonhummingbird, then from everyone else.eta: The title I chose is Pioneers: The First Days of History.
Hm.
Running on two hours' sleep last night, into an early morning and a long hard day at work. Came to a realization: I haven't got enough strength to watch Yankees-Red Sox game seven.
Plan at the moment:
Go out. Finally get to see "Sky Captain". Come home. Sleep.
Side effect, I suppose, of spending two years with stress levels riding right up against the red line: even the little things can shred you like confetti.
I hope the Yankees can win it. I really, really do.
But I'm too far gone to make the journey with them tonight.
Plan at the moment:
Go out. Finally get to see "Sky Captain". Come home. Sleep.
Side effect, I suppose, of spending two years with stress levels riding right up against the red line: even the little things can shred you like confetti.
I hope the Yankees can win it. I really, really do.
But I'm too far gone to make the journey with them tonight.
The reaction
Oct. 20th, 2004 09:32 pmI went to the movie, like I planned to. Caught the seven-fifteen of Sky Captain. Fairly enjoyable, but somehow ... I was expecting more.
Then I came home, and saw a glimpse of the game on the TV.
A red six.
A blue zero.
And my goddamned legs folded up like matchsticks under me.
Literally. Down on the deck like a ton of bricks, everything I was carrying went spilling down the corridor, and I just flat-out couldn't move for five, ten minutes.
It's too much. It's just a goddamned game, right? Men playing a child's game, and people live or die by the results.
OK, Red Sox Nation, go ahead and celebrate. But if you're going to gloat at the expense of my team, check your life insurance policies.
Maybe that wasn't clear. Let me rephrase.
[Invective deleted by Red Sox Nation's Department of Homeland Security. A shoot-on-sight order is being issued againstbktheirregular on the charge of Thoughtcrime against Red Sox Nation.]
Now, if you'll all excuse me, I'm going to bed. I plan to be up and about soon.
Say, around June.
Of the year 2505.
Until then, anybody wants me, leave a message.
Then I came home, and saw a glimpse of the game on the TV.
A red six.
A blue zero.
And my goddamned legs folded up like matchsticks under me.
Literally. Down on the deck like a ton of bricks, everything I was carrying went spilling down the corridor, and I just flat-out couldn't move for five, ten minutes.
It's too much. It's just a goddamned game, right? Men playing a child's game, and people live or die by the results.
OK, Red Sox Nation, go ahead and celebrate. But if you're going to gloat at the expense of my team, check your life insurance policies.
Maybe that wasn't clear. Let me rephrase.
[Invective deleted by Red Sox Nation's Department of Homeland Security. A shoot-on-sight order is being issued against
bktheirregular on the charge of Thoughtcrime against Red Sox Nation.]Now, if you'll all excuse me, I'm going to bed. I plan to be up and about soon.
Say, around June.
Of the year 2505.
Until then, anybody wants me, leave a message.