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Okay, I'm home. I hate baseball, and I hate trade deadline, and I'm devastated and have a completely broken little pitcher curled up inside my head, and losing Nomar was nothing compared to this, but I'm home and experimenting with the therapeutic powers of the Grateful Dead's American Beauty, because Mr Rosso is right, that shit works.
And to distract myself for a little while, an account of yesterday entitled How To Survive The First Full Day After Losing A Favorite Player Without Pitching Yourself Out The Window Or Dismantling Your Ottoman.
* See "Wedding Crashers." No, really. I know the trailer makes it look blindingly moronic, and I didn't really want to see it, but Amanda's dad was paying (this was a recurring theme; he paid for everything) and I have a policy about not turning down free movies. But it was actually pretty decent. Plenty of the jokes were funny and the story was fairly reasonable. It could have been about twenty minutes shorter, and Bill Simmons was right about it suddenly turning from a comedy into a chick flick, but I enjoyed myself.
* Procure a Tigers hat. Amanda and I do our best to exchange birthday presents every year, but since we don't see each other too often, the gifts are usually months late. So, when I found out a couple of weeks ago that she was coming down, I asked her to buy my sad broke self a Tigers hat for my birthday last January. And she did. And there was much hugging and careful band adjustment until it fit Just Right. It's black with the white Olde English D, and has "Tigers" stiched into the adjustable Velcro band on the back.
* Immediately blow the benefits of your clever manuevering by wandering into Olympia Sports. They had a whole slew of new player shirts that hadn't been in Maine before. Including Bellhorn. I have wanted a Bellhorn shirt for over a year. So, oops. I'm sure I can find ways to cut corners and make up the nineteen bucks. Amanda got Arroyo and had to physically remove herself from the store before she grabbed Mueller (heh), too.
* Hurry to the mall bathroom to change into your shiny new Bellhorn shirt whilst assuring yourself that this certainly does not mean he will be put on waivers two weeks from now.
* This was not, technically, the first time I had been to a Sea Dogs game, but it was the first time I cared, since last time I was fifteen, had gone only because I had used it as a bargaining chip with my mom to win the right to watch the Buffy finale in spite of the no-TV punishment I was enduring for bad grades (the fact that my mom actually agreed to this demonstrates pretty clearly how hard it was to get me to go on familiy outings without whining everyone to death), and spent the entire thing reading Dracula. Which, for the record, was far more boring than the actual game would have been. Now I occasionally like to torture myself wondering if I missed out on seeing any recent or current Sox players, even though it's no good chastising myself since I thought sports the most boring nonsense on the planet till I was twenty, so even if I hadn't had the book I still wouldn't have paid attention.
Game-related facts: The Sea Dogs were playing the New Britain Rock Cats, which is the AA affiliate for the Twins, so I was gleeful at the thought of walloping baby Twinkies' asses. And wallop 'em we did. Not only did we beat them 4-2, and not only did three of our runs come from homers (a two-run homer from David Murphy, plus a solo homer and a sac fly from Jeremy West), but our starter, Jon Lester? Threw his first complete game, giving up two runs and nine hits and striking out six. It was awesome, and someday when he is kicking ass in the major leagues, I'm going to be able to say that I saw the first complete game he ever pitched.
On the actual experience level: My very first ballpark beer in its plastic cup was, in spite of being domestic, the best beer I have ever tasted. Also, I highly recommend attending games with someone who will happily pay for your beers in exchange for your going to get his as well.
We had excellent seats, a bit to the right of home plate and maybe fifteen rows back. For the price of going to a movie. AA games rule.
It's very different going to a live game when you are used to having the game spoonfed to you on TV; Amanda and I laughed at ourselves when we realized after Lester hit the first batter that we were waiting for the replay. But nope, at a live game you have to think and watch and argue and ask questions if you blinked at the wrong second.
At one point in maybe the fourth inning-ish, a couple little tweenyboppers girls came past and stopping in our section. "HEY GUYS! WE'RE GOING TO DO THE WAVE OKAY?" To which I, having had a couple beers at that point, replied loudly, "HELL NO." I was not the only one who found this idea to be pure crap; they tried it three or four times and each time you saw fewer and fewer people doing it until it died out halfway through the stadium. Amanda and I about wet ourselves laughing. And you know, even if the wave were a good idea, you can't do it in Hadlock Field, because it's too small and the seating only goes halfway around the stadium.
Around the sixth inning, it started raining. So people started leaving. (Okay, maybe the thunder and lightning also had something to do with that.) So Amanda and David and I moved ourselves down to some better seats, where we were close enough to shout gleefully at the players. (Usually, I might be a bit too shy for this sort of thing, but four Sam Adamses help tremendously.) "YEAH MURPHY! HIT IT OUT OF HERE!" "C'MON LESTER! THREE OUTS LEFT! WIPE 'EM OUT AND KNOCK 'EM DOWN!" Lester, as I recall, managed two outs, then threw six balls in a row. "THAT'S OKAY LESTER! ONE OUT TO GO! YOU'RE ALL OVER HIM!" Well, I didn't say we shouted anything creative. And when he got that last out, the few hundred people left in the park gave him a standing ovation.
After the rain started, it also caused Hanley Ramirez to do this awesome thing where he popped up or flied out or whatever, and, realizing he was out, attempted to stop running to first, only to end up going into a slide like ten feet from homeplate. Excellent.
Conclusion: I need to go to more Sea Dogs games. I can walk to Hadlock from my house, for heaven's sake, I've no excuse. Except for the broke part.
And to distract myself for a little while, an account of yesterday entitled How To Survive The First Full Day After Losing A Favorite Player Without Pitching Yourself Out The Window Or Dismantling Your Ottoman.
* See "Wedding Crashers." No, really. I know the trailer makes it look blindingly moronic, and I didn't really want to see it, but Amanda's dad was paying (this was a recurring theme; he paid for everything) and I have a policy about not turning down free movies. But it was actually pretty decent. Plenty of the jokes were funny and the story was fairly reasonable. It could have been about twenty minutes shorter, and Bill Simmons was right about it suddenly turning from a comedy into a chick flick, but I enjoyed myself.
* Procure a Tigers hat. Amanda and I do our best to exchange birthday presents every year, but since we don't see each other too often, the gifts are usually months late. So, when I found out a couple of weeks ago that she was coming down, I asked her to buy my sad broke self a Tigers hat for my birthday last January. And she did. And there was much hugging and careful band adjustment until it fit Just Right. It's black with the white Olde English D, and has "Tigers" stiched into the adjustable Velcro band on the back.
* Immediately blow the benefits of your clever manuevering by wandering into Olympia Sports. They had a whole slew of new player shirts that hadn't been in Maine before. Including Bellhorn. I have wanted a Bellhorn shirt for over a year. So, oops. I'm sure I can find ways to cut corners and make up the nineteen bucks. Amanda got Arroyo and had to physically remove herself from the store before she grabbed Mueller (heh), too.
* Hurry to the mall bathroom to change into your shiny new Bellhorn shirt whilst assuring yourself that this certainly does not mean he will be put on waivers two weeks from now.
* This was not, technically, the first time I had been to a Sea Dogs game, but it was the first time I cared, since last time I was fifteen, had gone only because I had used it as a bargaining chip with my mom to win the right to watch the Buffy finale in spite of the no-TV punishment I was enduring for bad grades (the fact that my mom actually agreed to this demonstrates pretty clearly how hard it was to get me to go on familiy outings without whining everyone to death), and spent the entire thing reading Dracula. Which, for the record, was far more boring than the actual game would have been. Now I occasionally like to torture myself wondering if I missed out on seeing any recent or current Sox players, even though it's no good chastising myself since I thought sports the most boring nonsense on the planet till I was twenty, so even if I hadn't had the book I still wouldn't have paid attention.
Game-related facts: The Sea Dogs were playing the New Britain Rock Cats, which is the AA affiliate for the Twins, so I was gleeful at the thought of walloping baby Twinkies' asses. And wallop 'em we did. Not only did we beat them 4-2, and not only did three of our runs come from homers (a two-run homer from David Murphy, plus a solo homer and a sac fly from Jeremy West), but our starter, Jon Lester? Threw his first complete game, giving up two runs and nine hits and striking out six. It was awesome, and someday when he is kicking ass in the major leagues, I'm going to be able to say that I saw the first complete game he ever pitched.
On the actual experience level: My very first ballpark beer in its plastic cup was, in spite of being domestic, the best beer I have ever tasted. Also, I highly recommend attending games with someone who will happily pay for your beers in exchange for your going to get his as well.
We had excellent seats, a bit to the right of home plate and maybe fifteen rows back. For the price of going to a movie. AA games rule.
It's very different going to a live game when you are used to having the game spoonfed to you on TV; Amanda and I laughed at ourselves when we realized after Lester hit the first batter that we were waiting for the replay. But nope, at a live game you have to think and watch and argue and ask questions if you blinked at the wrong second.
At one point in maybe the fourth inning-ish, a couple little tweenyboppers girls came past and stopping in our section. "HEY GUYS! WE'RE GOING TO DO THE WAVE OKAY?" To which I, having had a couple beers at that point, replied loudly, "HELL NO." I was not the only one who found this idea to be pure crap; they tried it three or four times and each time you saw fewer and fewer people doing it until it died out halfway through the stadium. Amanda and I about wet ourselves laughing. And you know, even if the wave were a good idea, you can't do it in Hadlock Field, because it's too small and the seating only goes halfway around the stadium.
Around the sixth inning, it started raining. So people started leaving. (Okay, maybe the thunder and lightning also had something to do with that.) So Amanda and David and I moved ourselves down to some better seats, where we were close enough to shout gleefully at the players. (Usually, I might be a bit too shy for this sort of thing, but four Sam Adamses help tremendously.) "YEAH MURPHY! HIT IT OUT OF HERE!" "C'MON LESTER! THREE OUTS LEFT! WIPE 'EM OUT AND KNOCK 'EM DOWN!" Lester, as I recall, managed two outs, then threw six balls in a row. "THAT'S OKAY LESTER! ONE OUT TO GO! YOU'RE ALL OVER HIM!" Well, I didn't say we shouted anything creative. And when he got that last out, the few hundred people left in the park gave him a standing ovation.
After the rain started, it also caused Hanley Ramirez to do this awesome thing where he popped up or flied out or whatever, and, realizing he was out, attempted to stop running to first, only to end up going into a slide like ten feet from homeplate. Excellent.
Conclusion: I need to go to more Sea Dogs games. I can walk to Hadlock from my house, for heaven's sake, I've no excuse. Except for the broke part.
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And I'm with you on the depression. I am basically making stuff up as I go now, because jeez, this is a whole new team. Hell, a whole new LEAGUE. I hope he still sounds convincing.
Also: the bit with the cat? Way to KILL ME DEAD, girl. *sob*
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I am so sorry that you have to do stuff. I had a feeling at least one of us would be screwed by the trade deadline, but I didn't see it being this bad. Gooooood, this suuuuuuuucks.
*pets* I thought of the cat thing this morning, and it seemed so obvious I didn't know why I didn't think of it sooner. And speaking of *SOB*, the Farns's latest post just about broke me when I read it this morning, and I can't even look at that icon.
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The bit with Chipper Jones and Adam LaRoche and trying to lasso the bull in the clubhouse? 100% of fact. They really did that before the game, it was on the official site. I was like, thank you Atlanta Braves for giving me something to work with right away until I get the feel of this team.
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Dude, that's awesome. The Braves love you. And