Sunday, April 6, 2008
Townie Softball
In other news, softball with the townies started this week and the Tall Boys are 1-1. I'm proud to say I had a few instrumental at-bats in our rousing extra-innings win over some fat dudes from Merrick. Townie softball is my new reason to live.
Opening Week
It's been a good first week, thus far, although I've started work and I was kind of sick this week (both big time booos) so thats the reason for no posts. But its off and running and its been pretty good.
The Yanks and Braves are struggling early but will make the playoffs because they always do. Rule #1: Never count out the Yankees because they ALWAYS make the playoffs. So, fans don't panic this has happened each of the last 5 years and the Bombers always end up with a spot in the postseason (of course they suck when they get in but thats another story). The annoying thing is listening to the goddamned media (I'm looking at you, ESPN) and their alarmist, apocalyptic, speculative broadcasts all season long. What's wrong with the Yankees? Is this the year the team with the highest payroll finally folds? Will they make the playoffs? Yes, douchebags, they will. They always do.
What's up with the Tigers? I was kind of hoping they would make some noise this season -which they are- just not in the way anyone intended. )-5 is kind of inauspicious, though. The question is whether they can set it straight because they are NOT the Yankees. They do got that crusty, old, wizard-genius Jim Leland in their corner, though. I think they'll be OK.
I gotta go check out the Mets and see if they can erase yesterday's shitshow vs. the Braves. At least, this one won't be called by Joe Buck and Tim McCarver. They are the freaking pits.
The Yanks and Braves are struggling early but will make the playoffs because they always do. Rule #1: Never count out the Yankees because they ALWAYS make the playoffs. So, fans don't panic this has happened each of the last 5 years and the Bombers always end up with a spot in the postseason (of course they suck when they get in but thats another story). The annoying thing is listening to the goddamned media (I'm looking at you, ESPN) and their alarmist, apocalyptic, speculative broadcasts all season long. What's wrong with the Yankees? Is this the year the team with the highest payroll finally folds? Will they make the playoffs? Yes, douchebags, they will. They always do.
What's up with the Tigers? I was kind of hoping they would make some noise this season -which they are- just not in the way anyone intended. )-5 is kind of inauspicious, though. The question is whether they can set it straight because they are NOT the Yankees. They do got that crusty, old, wizard-genius Jim Leland in their corner, though. I think they'll be OK.
I gotta go check out the Mets and see if they can erase yesterday's shitshow vs. the Braves. At least, this one won't be called by Joe Buck and Tim McCarver. They are the freaking pits.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Opening Night
What a start! The season is underway, the Braves are 0-1 and the Nats christened their new home with a walk-off HR. I'm thrilled. I missed the comforting, sage advice of Joe Morgan, the baritone squawk of Jon Miller and the insightful scoops of Peter Gammons. Ryan Zimmerman teed off on a pitch from Peter Moylan and sent it to the first row in left center. I got a bad feeling the Nats could be an unexpected thorn in the Mets' side this year. I think that it was pretty cool that the first game in Nationals Park featured some late game drama. That seems unique to baseball- it would be hard to imagine a new basketball arena ending on a buzzer beater or a new football stadium finishing with a game winning field goal. People won't connect that with the actual place, the way they would with baseball. I wonder if it will take on that type of identity- one known for wild endings. Every ballpark needs a personality. We will see it develop over the coming season and years. The season itself is new, fresh and has yet to take on an identity of its own. For now, everyone is 0-0 and has hope, the winners have yet to be delineated from the losers. No one's a loser yet. Well, except for the Braves.
Times Baseball Preview '08
Every article in this Sunday's New York Times Baseball Preview was terrific. I posted the links at right. I highly recommend checking them out. The article about Shea made me proud and almost want to cry. "It's a dump, but it's our dump". The article on Wrigley made me glad I wasn't a Cubs fans. Boy, to they have it rough. And the article on the Yankess is GREAT. As much as I hate the Yanks, it is a crime to see The Stadium go. I really see no need for a new one. But, what do I know? That's why I'm write a blog that no one reads instead of making those big-time decisions. Anyway, I know the writing in the Times aint up to snuff with good ol' Buck's, but, enjoy!
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Best Games of 2007 - Fenway Park - 7/14/07
This was not only the best game I went to in 2007 it may have been the best day of my entire life.
It was extra nice because I skipped out on a family function I was supposed to attend in Boston's South Shore suburbs. That is always a bonus - when you can exchange drunkenness at a ballgame for family bullshit. I had hemmed and hawed all day as to whether I should go. I felt a little bad. I thought my family will be there when I get back and there will be more birthdays. But, this is Fenway! How often do you get tix to the Sox on a Saturday night? Later, family, save me some cake.
Almost as soon as I arrived in Boston, my decision to bail on my kin was immediately vindicated. I parked in the garage under the Boston Common and emerged into a dusky summer Paradise. The sun had been chased behind the city's skyscrapers that surrounded the public greens like a fortress, leaving this patch of earth in cool shade. It seemed like the earth had been irked and confused all day but finally figured out what was bothering it, took care of it and now had no worries. It was as if you could feel the earth sit down, kick back and let out a relaxing sigh -Ahhh!
The Common was abuzz with the most pleasurable atmosphere I've ever been in. Frisbees lazily hovered from brother to brother, dogs chased down tennis balls with the utmost zeal and lovers lay on picnic blankets, blades of cool, slippery grass between their toes. Of course, this sounds ridiculously idyllic but I swear to you that's how it was (I'm from NY, I don't see that very often).
The moods got even better as I got closer to Fenway. I found Commonwealth Avenue and paced towards which must have been roughly a mile and a half. Commonwealth is one of the oldest and fanciest and most famous of Boston's boulevards. It reminded me of the old-timey engraving on the Cheers logo. With the exception of the makes and models of the cars on the street I got the impression that little had changed. I liked the idea that eighty years ago some schlub from New York was walking down this same street at the same time of day, going to check out this 'new Fenway Park'. I kept getting more excited. I'm going to the ballgame - and Dice K is pitching!
I was additionally excited because I got to hang with my buddy Rosie, whom I hadn't seen in two years. I met him on the corner Landsdowne & Brookline, just over the Turnpike, behind the Green Monster. Rosie joined me in being the only two idiots in sight, not wearing one of those ubiquitous BoSox T-shirt jerseys. Rosie sported a black Celtics shirt, with "BOSTON" and a green shamrock on the front. Though he was out of uniform on this particular night, Rosie's Sox loyalty cannot be questioned.
I literally met Rosie on the field during a rugby game. He is achingly smart but without a drop of pretentiousness in him. He's a genuinely, good-natured, unassuming, sweetheart of a human being. Simply put- he's the man.
So, I was psyched to see him. It had been a been a while, so we found our seats- fantastic seats under the overhang looking right down the third base line- and quickly began catching up. The catching up was fueled by ceaseless quantities of beer. If the atmosphere outside was nice, it was even better inside. Rosie and I were in a fabulous mood. So, I continued to enjoy myself.
When people say you have to go to Fenway - you have to go to Fenway. I had been there before but I was a kid and not smart enough to appreciate it. It's hard not to get up in the absolute adoration these people have for their ballclub. They love the Red Sox and were genuinely thrilled to watch them play. Red Sox T-Shirt jerseys on the backs of spectators as far as the eye could see - Ramirez, Ortiz, Matsuzaka, Youklis, Williams, Boggs. Every single person there was as happy as Rosie and I were. How could they not be? They were at Fenway to see their Sox on a splendid Saturday night in July.
Fenway is not entirely perfect, however. There are two drawbacks that keep it from attaining perfection- no beer vendors; tiny, tiny seats. Fenway is "family friendly" so they don't have the wandering booze vendors I am so fond of. And the seats were designed for slim, early twentieth century asses, not for my gargantuan, Dorito-eating, new millenium ass. Fenway was designed before the advent of McDonald's and before automobiles phased out walking, so for now we'll have to deal with or lose some weight. But, until then, everytime you want to get a beer you have to extract yourself from those kindergarten-size, knees-in-your-face chairs and shuffle past your row mates and get on line.
I must confess, I don't remember much of the details of the game. I do remember Dice-K let the Jays hang around for a while and I was a die-hard Sox fan for those 3 hours. Hits, I cheered. Strikeouts, I cheered. Great defensive plays, I cheered. And it was the legitimate cheers-the kind that come straight from your gut. The Sox pulled away, "Dirty Water" reverberated throughout the stadium and I turned back into a lonely Mets fan insanely jealous of the Fenway experience.
The night didn't end there. Rosie and I went out and continued to get even more hammered. And all I can remember is $1 pitchers(which was trouble) at a bar near BU and rapping Biggie Smalls at 2 in the morning with mysterious people that always seem to populate drunken nights. "It was all a dream, I used to read Word-Up magazine, Salt-n-Pepa & Heavy D up in the limousine..."
Driving back to New York the next day with a massive hangover and acute anxiety attacks was a hell you can't comprehend. I think it was God's way of punishing me for drinking so damn much even when he rewarded me with one of the best days of my life. Eh, fuck it. It was worth it.
It was extra nice because I skipped out on a family function I was supposed to attend in Boston's South Shore suburbs. That is always a bonus - when you can exchange drunkenness at a ballgame for family bullshit. I had hemmed and hawed all day as to whether I should go. I felt a little bad. I thought my family will be there when I get back and there will be more birthdays. But, this is Fenway! How often do you get tix to the Sox on a Saturday night? Later, family, save me some cake.
Almost as soon as I arrived in Boston, my decision to bail on my kin was immediately vindicated. I parked in the garage under the Boston Common and emerged into a dusky summer Paradise. The sun had been chased behind the city's skyscrapers that surrounded the public greens like a fortress, leaving this patch of earth in cool shade. It seemed like the earth had been irked and confused all day but finally figured out what was bothering it, took care of it and now had no worries. It was as if you could feel the earth sit down, kick back and let out a relaxing sigh -Ahhh!
The Common was abuzz with the most pleasurable atmosphere I've ever been in. Frisbees lazily hovered from brother to brother, dogs chased down tennis balls with the utmost zeal and lovers lay on picnic blankets, blades of cool, slippery grass between their toes. Of course, this sounds ridiculously idyllic but I swear to you that's how it was (I'm from NY, I don't see that very often).
The moods got even better as I got closer to Fenway. I found Commonwealth Avenue and paced towards which must have been roughly a mile and a half. Commonwealth is one of the oldest and fanciest and most famous of Boston's boulevards. It reminded me of the old-timey engraving on the Cheers logo. With the exception of the makes and models of the cars on the street I got the impression that little had changed. I liked the idea that eighty years ago some schlub from New York was walking down this same street at the same time of day, going to check out this 'new Fenway Park'. I kept getting more excited. I'm going to the ballgame - and Dice K is pitching!
I was additionally excited because I got to hang with my buddy Rosie, whom I hadn't seen in two years. I met him on the corner Landsdowne & Brookline, just over the Turnpike, behind the Green Monster. Rosie joined me in being the only two idiots in sight, not wearing one of those ubiquitous BoSox T-shirt jerseys. Rosie sported a black Celtics shirt, with "BOSTON" and a green shamrock on the front. Though he was out of uniform on this particular night, Rosie's Sox loyalty cannot be questioned.
I literally met Rosie on the field during a rugby game. He is achingly smart but without a drop of pretentiousness in him. He's a genuinely, good-natured, unassuming, sweetheart of a human being. Simply put- he's the man.
So, I was psyched to see him. It had been a been a while, so we found our seats- fantastic seats under the overhang looking right down the third base line- and quickly began catching up. The catching up was fueled by ceaseless quantities of beer. If the atmosphere outside was nice, it was even better inside. Rosie and I were in a fabulous mood. So, I continued to enjoy myself.
When people say you have to go to Fenway - you have to go to Fenway. I had been there before but I was a kid and not smart enough to appreciate it. It's hard not to get up in the absolute adoration these people have for their ballclub. They love the Red Sox and were genuinely thrilled to watch them play. Red Sox T-Shirt jerseys on the backs of spectators as far as the eye could see - Ramirez, Ortiz, Matsuzaka, Youklis, Williams, Boggs. Every single person there was as happy as Rosie and I were. How could they not be? They were at Fenway to see their Sox on a splendid Saturday night in July.
Fenway is not entirely perfect, however. There are two drawbacks that keep it from attaining perfection- no beer vendors; tiny, tiny seats. Fenway is "family friendly" so they don't have the wandering booze vendors I am so fond of. And the seats were designed for slim, early twentieth century asses, not for my gargantuan, Dorito-eating, new millenium ass. Fenway was designed before the advent of McDonald's and before automobiles phased out walking, so for now we'll have to deal with or lose some weight. But, until then, everytime you want to get a beer you have to extract yourself from those kindergarten-size, knees-in-your-face chairs and shuffle past your row mates and get on line.
I must confess, I don't remember much of the details of the game. I do remember Dice-K let the Jays hang around for a while and I was a die-hard Sox fan for those 3 hours. Hits, I cheered. Strikeouts, I cheered. Great defensive plays, I cheered. And it was the legitimate cheers-the kind that come straight from your gut. The Sox pulled away, "Dirty Water" reverberated throughout the stadium and I turned back into a lonely Mets fan insanely jealous of the Fenway experience.
The night didn't end there. Rosie and I went out and continued to get even more hammered. And all I can remember is $1 pitchers(which was trouble) at a bar near BU and rapping Biggie Smalls at 2 in the morning with mysterious people that always seem to populate drunken nights. "It was all a dream, I used to read Word-Up magazine, Salt-n-Pepa & Heavy D up in the limousine..."
Driving back to New York the next day with a massive hangover and acute anxiety attacks was a hell you can't comprehend. I think it was God's way of punishing me for drinking so damn much even when he rewarded me with one of the best days of my life. Eh, fuck it. It was worth it.
PLAY BALL!
And just like that, English Majors in the Upper Deck is up and running. This dream started a whole two days ago when I thought "Maybe me and Olson should start a blog about getting drunk at baseball games" and Voila - it is so. I would like to thank the people at blogger.com for making starting a blog REE-DICULOUSLY easy. I did it in about 20 minutes. Maybe less. Try it, you can have your own blog in like 15 minutes. What a world we live in!
A few years ago, Chris and I found ourselves chilling by ourselves in the familiar confines of Shea Stadium's red seats. The rest of our party was off getting beers, going to the bathroom , smoking cigarettes, etc. "Where'd everybody go?" I asked. Chris turned to me and said, "It's just me and you, Buck. A couple of English majors in the upper deck".
Both of us had, in fact, been English majors and were temporarily in the post-collegiate, prerequisite waiting period of unemployment that every English major must endure after graduation. Since then, we have attended myriad games and drank, I'm estimating, close to a million beers.
If you are a baseball fan, there is some undeniable experience that comes with going to the ballpark. You become attached to it and you form a special, personal relationship with the game. Plus, the ballpark is a fascinating laboratory for observing the human animal. They are great places for 'people watching'. In fact, for me the game is almost secondary to the atmosphere.
Chris and I love baseball and we love to read and we love to write but we're amateur writers and I mean, AMATEUR. But, I think that's the whole point of this foolish endeavor - to give the apsiring poet in the cheap seats a voice and to bring together more people who love baseball and who love to read and write.
So, join us and let's make this the best darned, rootin'-tootin'est amateur baseball writers blog there is! We would love to hear from you!
This is just in time, too. Opening Day is pulling into the driveway and I haven't even changed into my nice clothes and the house is still a mess. In fact, the A's and Red Sox are already on their way back from Japan after their two game series there (I would love to read a fan piece about that) . So, I'll try to get up my 3 best games from last year. Get ready, it's almost here!
A few years ago, Chris and I found ourselves chilling by ourselves in the familiar confines of Shea Stadium's red seats. The rest of our party was off getting beers, going to the bathroom , smoking cigarettes, etc. "Where'd everybody go?" I asked. Chris turned to me and said, "It's just me and you, Buck. A couple of English majors in the upper deck".
Both of us had, in fact, been English majors and were temporarily in the post-collegiate, prerequisite waiting period of unemployment that every English major must endure after graduation. Since then, we have attended myriad games and drank, I'm estimating, close to a million beers.
If you are a baseball fan, there is some undeniable experience that comes with going to the ballpark. You become attached to it and you form a special, personal relationship with the game. Plus, the ballpark is a fascinating laboratory for observing the human animal. They are great places for 'people watching'. In fact, for me the game is almost secondary to the atmosphere.
Chris and I love baseball and we love to read and we love to write but we're amateur writers and I mean, AMATEUR. But, I think that's the whole point of this foolish endeavor - to give the apsiring poet in the cheap seats a voice and to bring together more people who love baseball and who love to read and write.
So, join us and let's make this the best darned, rootin'-tootin'est amateur baseball writers blog there is! We would love to hear from you!
This is just in time, too. Opening Day is pulling into the driveway and I haven't even changed into my nice clothes and the house is still a mess. In fact, the A's and Red Sox are already on their way back from Japan after their two game series there (I would love to read a fan piece about that) . So, I'll try to get up my 3 best games from last year. Get ready, it's almost here!
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