Wednesday, April 30, 2008

In Which I Go All Sally Field on Your Ass

So, for the last few weeks I've been taking a young adult novel writing class in an effort to finish my story (and I apologize about the lack of updating on the other blog. Rewriting kind of screws everything up.) And tonight, I debuted the first few pages of my story, which I kind of worried about, because it's like your child in a way. It's one thing to put it out there for friends and family to read, but strangers who don't owe you anything? Yeah. But get this: They loved my voice.

They loved my voice!! (And by voice I mean narration, not my singing voice. That would just be terrifying).

The woman running the class is a YA writer/former editor and I can't explain how much it meant hearing that from someone who has done this for a living. And my classmates had smiles on their faces when discussing it. Not that I always need validation, because I always try to write for me, but... I actually had to stop myself from getting teary.

Now, I know my story is FAR from perfect (hell, I've barely got anything written in it and I'm still not sure where parts of it are going to go) and it's going to be a hella tough road to hoe if I attempt to get it published, but knowing that I can hold a person's interest and make them laugh? I don't even know if I can explain how good that feels.

Can you imagine if I actually get published at some point in my life? This blog might spontaneously combust from squee.

ETA: In keeping with the theme of this post, I give you the awesome piece of Facebook flair Elizabeth just sent me:



Seriously, guys, beware.

Monday, April 28, 2008

Yeah, I Know, I'm Liking Facebook

So my friend Laura introduced me to my new favorite Facebook application: Pieces of Flair. And the only downside is that they don't have something like this for blogs, because check out mine thus far:



I mean, I get my love for Reading Rainbow, Washington "fucking killing for fun," Torgo and Ramona Quimby all represented in one place. And lord knows what other of my weird interests are available (note to self: look for House Hunters flair.)

If you're a Facebook friend, please add this application, because I think I've found my new favorite way to procrastinate...

Movie Recommendation Time!

If you haven't seen Lars and the Real Girl because you think you won't enjoy a stupid movie with way-too-easy jokes involving a sex doll, you are doing yourself a great disservice. Because while, yes, there is a sex doll involved, it is possibly the least-sleazy movie you will see. It is utterly heartfelt and sweet and extremely well-acted and makes you want to befriend your neighbors. Okay, I'm not going that far, but it's quite the feel-good movie. Rent it for yourself, dudes.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

You Can Take the Karaoke Out of the 'boken...

...but you can't take the crazy-ass MFs out of the karaoke. Yes, this year, because I no longer have a living room the size of an airplane hangar, and because I no longer have Chewboken to seek revenge on, I moved my annual b-day sing-alongfest to an actual karaoke place in Midtown. This ruled because 1) No one was going to complain to the authorities about how horrendous we sounded loud we were (though Carolyn suggested we invite our old landlord, for old time's sake), 2)No cleanup necessary and 3)Song-choosing is much awesomer when you have, say, 12,000 titles to choose from instead of a few hundred. Add to this some liquor and your bestest karaoke-loving pals, and you've got yourself some spirited loudness.

-- First off, I'm surprised I can even speak today, given that I had to, uh, show my range on the end Bruce part in "We Are the World" (which I shared with fellow Bruce-o-phile, Steph), "Oh! Darling" (in which I hope I didn't ruin the song completely for Beatles fans Suzy and Steph), "Without You" (thanks to Jason for "going there" on both songs), "Don't Stop Believing" (awesome group sing right there, so nice choice, Erica), and "Like a Prayer" (with Vicki once again knee-dancing). By the time Sarah was singing "What's Up" and Colette had busted out with Bob Marley at the end, I couldn't even join in, as my vocal chords were like, "Fuck you."

-- Heart-warming moment of the night: Eric and Rick's man-love reunion, which involved one party climbing over a couch to hug the other, and I think brought a tear to everyone's eyes. Who says wedded bliss can keep that kind of love apart?

-- It was great that the gathering allowed Dexter and Vicki finally to see that much-talked-about people like Steph and Mona are not figments of my imagination. And vice-versa.

-- So, I've discussed before how the videos they show with karaoke lyrics are...strange. Well, last night's options took the cake, as we witnessed a woman dressed like The Fresh Prince of Bel Air skipping through Brooklyn, people painting each other as foreplay, scenes shifting from 1980s lower Manhattan to the Old West, and the same video of random scenes from 1980s NYC getting played over songs that had absolutely no connection to said scenery. Although it was pretty great when they were showing the Wall Street area, and suddenly a statue of George Washington appears, and Elizabeth and I are like "WASHINGTON!"

--My favorite moment of the night was when I was at the bar with Rana, and suddenly Vicki comes out of nowhere, all "KB! 'End of the Road' is on!" and I literally ran through the place, pulling a Kramer, crash/sliding into the room, grabbing the mike, and jumping on in with Dexter and Liana, who really got the soul-pulling, eyes-closed-while-singing vibes that Boyz II Men has to offer. Which is why we are friends.

-- Rana gets credit for the most inspired song choices, going from something like NKOTB's "Step By Step," a Vanessa Hudgens solo from High School Musical 2 to a song from Wicked to our duet on Lionel Richie's "Hello" (which included some fabulous ad-libbing).

-- Elizabeth was the secret ringer of the night, as after she busts out with "One More Try" by George Michael, everyone's like "Damn, someone who can sing!" (I think Ken's mouth was literally hanging open -- considering we mostly see Elizabeth in an editorial capacity, it is totally understandable) Also, she and Mona the Mets Fan, the other ringer (but not-so-secret, as a few of us have heard her sing before) brought it on home with "All That Jazz." Eric, who was sitting next to me, was all "where did they come from?"

-- Jesse dumped his usual Rick-Astley tribute, but substituted it with Tom Jones, so I think it all evens out.

-- Favorite song surprise of the night: When suddenly "Your Love" comes on and I'm like "STEPHHHH!" and we rock out on "our song."

-- Erica and Dexter paired up for their annual visit to "Seasons of Love," which actually made me a little verklempt, such is the power of friendship songs. Aww.

Quotes of the night:

"My song got ruined by buffalo wings." -- Mona the Mets Fan

Me, to Jason during the incredibly hard-to-sing "Blue Bayou": I think we're murdering this.
Vicki, sitting next to me: Yes, you are.

Me, to Elizabeth, when one of the crazy accompanying videos shows a woman flying off the handle and dumping a guy because he drops their hamburgers: Maybe she's a diabetic.

"Wah fucking wah." -- Steph

"I love you!" -- text message from Erica. Who was sitting across from me.

A Friend is a Gift You Give Yourself

...and a lack of a voice from balls-to-the-wall, completely unabashed singing with said Gifts is the best kind of b-day present ever.

Once again, my peeps make me realize how lucky I am to have them in my life. And once again, I gotta give them their props, though I'm not sure a blog post does it justice.

Complete recap coming. Like, you don't sprint through the halls of a karaoke emporium just to get to sing Boyz II Men's "End of the Road" and NOT write about it.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Random Thought of the Day

How does one go from being a magician to a professor to a pirate to a detective? Apparently, Magic Max, whose kosher lollycones Rana brought in today, was able to do all those things successfully.

Passover confuses me.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

In Which I Have Something in Common With Baskin-Robbins

Well, I survived 30. Which means I am now mired completely in my 30s, which...whatever. But, on this day, I feel I can find 31 things to be happy about. So.

I am grateful that...

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...that 1970s panelling no longer exists in my parents' house.

...everyone I care about is healthy. Some are even pregnant! (Celebrities who get pregnant just for publicity reasons, however, need to find a new way to get their names in the headlines)

...it's beautiful outside today. My birthday is very hit-or-miss, weatherwise.

...A-Rod is still a Yankee.

...Roger Clemens is not.

...for every dickhead, bitch, idiot, scumbag, slut (male and female), killjoy, ingoramus and loudmouth who've tried to introduce sucktasticness into my life, I've been fortunate enough to know some of the best people, who can tell me to just ignore the emotional retards.

...my bloggy pals are as awesome and thought-provoking as they are.

...even on the most hellacious days, my workplace can make me laugh.

...for all the bitching I've done about the new Stadium, at least the Yankees aren't moving somewhere else. Like Oklahoma City.

...at any given moment, Dirty Dancing is probably airing on some cable channel.

...Rana considered baking something for me in a toaster oven.

...Scrabulous, Scramble and Word Twist exist.

...my apartment. Demonic neighbor children, tiny visitors and all.

...New Coke, introduced on my 8th birthday, never caught on and the original was brought back.

...I have friends who actually like to pick apart American Idol.

...Ken is worried about how I'm going to transport my cake to and fro.

...my mom once liked to read romance novels.

...my friends like karaoke as much as I do.

...comedies like 30 Rock, The Office and Flight of the Conchords exist. I would only have witty, broadcast-booth banter to make me laugh at my TV otherwise.

...garbage night comes but twice a week.

Sidebar: How does a cat get loose in a baseball stadium?

...Girl Scout cookies are in my possession.

...my plant Jimmy Page was only mostly dead.

...I have TWO KINDS OF BIRTHDAY COOKIES.

...I can see through people. Figuratively. I mean.

...we need an Economic Stimulus in the form of free money.

...I made some kick-ass mashed potatoes last night.

...my DVR has my back.

...for all my weird interests (HGTV, real estate baseball as life, cheesy movies/TV, 80s music, teen books) I have people in my life who are just a keen on those subjects, and can therefore relate.

...there's an awesome newsstand in my building with a nice guy running the place -- who actually lets you buy things on credit. Not credit card, CREDIT. This beats out a vending machine that evily won't realease products when you're really, really hungry.

...you read this blog.

Monday, April 21, 2008

A Post I Know Tonya Will Appreciate. Not Sure About Everyone Else

So, a few months ago, the subject ofThe Torkelsons somehow came up, and Vicki was like, "Yeah, that girl looked like that guy in that Mr. Big video." And I thought that the comparison was just so awesomely laden with early 1990s pop culture, that I had to share:



And of course, you know you want it stuck in your head all day too:

Friday, April 18, 2008

Let's Not Talk About the Game...

...and let's discuss The Office. Woo to the hoo for this episode, because it felt very vintage-Office to me, for the first time in a long time.

Things I floved:

-- Creed's creepy desire for three chairs

-- "No question about it. I am ready to get hurt again."

-- Andy's dance in the parking lot, and the following, which really needs to be heard in Andy's voice to truly appreciate it:
"Did I do this for me? No. I did this, for the little guy. For Joe six pack. The guy who wakes up every morning in his four hundred dollar a month apartment, wonders how he's gonna pay his mortgage that month. Wonders how he's gonna fill his car up, with oil. Wonders how am I gonna pay my kids' orphanage bills. That guy, shouldn't have to wonder where he's gonna park."

-- Kevin's very bittersweet talking head about it being "nice to win one."

-- "The Five Families" of the office park montage

And now, I need to throw a question out there to you other viewers, as the online reactions I'm reading to the Pam/Jim engagement discussion differ from mine: Did any of you catch the look on Pam's face after the convo, when Jim went to walk back to his desk? Cuz to me, she looked kind of hesitant. I ask this because there are a bunch of psychotic people online who think JAM are real people and seemed to think that that conversation is all part and parcel of destiny or something. But that look... it made me wonder.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Now That the K's in Place Where the C Used to Be

It's very rare that I can take an entire line of a song and use it to relay a literal moment in a baseball game, but the title of this blog post aptly described the following:

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Okay, okay, it's really "cay" and "sea", but it works, you know? I doubt this was Grandaddy's intention, but it popped in my head and just fit really, really well.

/dork moment.

In Which I Hate a Bunch of My Fellow Alleged Fans

This is just ridiculous:

Hawkins, in the midst of a fan-induced uproar because nobody had worn the still-revered Paul O'Neill's old No. 21 since O'Neill's retirement in 2001, said Tuesday he will switch to No. 22.

I was at the game where fans first started the "Paul O'Neill" chant at Hawkins, and it was one of the most embarrassing displays of stupidity I'd ever witnessed at a sporting event. From my own fan base. And now a player has to kowtow down to it? You've got to be kidding me. The man picked 21 to honor Roberto Clemente, one of the greatest humanitarians to ever play the game, not to purposely piss off a bunch of Frankies From Bay Ridge who can't let go of the past.

Listen, Paul O'Neill was teh shit. The man was also a one-in-a-million type dude (I don't recall any other Yankees being pissed off enough to make the water cooler start crying upon seeing said Yankee stomp into the dugout), the likes of whom we probably won't see again in our lifetime, so stop giving other people guff if they can't live up to his legacy. He also was one of MANY "teh shits" on a fantastically understated team, so no, his number shouldn't be given this god-like treatment SEVEN YEARS AFTER HE'S RETIRED. Get over it, people.

And quite frankly, I was more pissed off when Cano had to give up 22 for The Roid Rage Kid Geriatric Dickhead -- because a lot of good HE did us, when Robinson was actually contributing quite nicely for a few years with that number. Yet, my guess is the people who were Paul O'Neilling at Hawkins were probably the same sect that blindly freaked out like Clemens was going to be our lord and savior when he announced he was coming back last year, and thus thought nothing of a decent player having to do to the "right" thing by giving up his number. To a jackass.

I'm just tired of the inmates of running the fan asylum. And I'm tired of feeling like the wonderful teams of the late '90s, early '00s did more harm than good in terms of my fan base. GOD.

ETA: Forgot to mention that I'm a little irritated with Cappy and Mo, who could've gone the opposite way and told the fans to STFU, instead of making Hawkins the one with the problem. It's just going to feed into the "SCOTT BROSIUS NEEDS TO COME BACK AND PLAY 3RD BASE" deluded idealism some people cling to. Sigh.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Urban Renewal

The best thing about days off? Getting to do things you normally wouldn't get to do on a busy weekend -- like, walk around your town, taking pictures of all the lovely sights of spring. (And weather, I thank you for cooperating this week. We've had our ups and downs, but it's been pretty awesome thus far. Just don't fuck me over on Thursday night, kay?)

Anyhow, some pics I took today around the JC, in case you haven't gotten around to enjoying the blooming yet:

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Monday, April 14, 2008

Shut Up, Stupid HGTV Home-Buying People

You don't buy a crappy house that has possibly disease-causing, high-voltage power lines (and stretches your budget) merely because it has a good view. And then not bother with another, beautifully re-done home (in your price range, no less) because you don't like the basement, which can easily be fixed. Have you no imagination? Or are you just smoking crack?

God, I'd be such a bad-ass home buyer if someone gave me the money to do so...

What Do I Have in Common With Wilson Betemit?

I think there's a chance I have pink eye too.

God, I wish I were kidding.

ETA: Okay, okay, so I don't have the gross crustiness associated with the nastiness that is pink eye (and my eye isn't even pink, so all righty then). But my eye has been burning like a bitch since I woke up on Sunday. Perhaps this is my body's reaction to relaxation? It can bite me, if that's the case...

It's Also Called Keeping Your Enemies Closer

So, Joel Sherman starts a blog post about how he finds it "pathetic" that the Yankees and Red Sox don't out and out hate each other and are too nice to each other (hinting that they should be all full of venom because they are rivals) with the following statement: If you do not read my friend Ken Davidoff’s work in Newsday, you really should. He splendidly combines excellent reporting instincts and deep thought on subjects.

Uh...hypocritical much? He's getting on players for not putting mob hits out on each other, or whatever they're supposed to do, but talking up another columnist's work at a rival newspaper is okay? It certainly didn't seem like Sherman was doing it out of irony (and I don't follow the who's who of friends/enemies among sportswriters, so if it is supposed to be ironic, then it's lost on...probably everyone) , so I guess that being The Enemy only counts when you're playing the game, not writing about it. *Rolls eyes* I'd hope that by realizing how he began this column, that he could see how UNpathetic it is to be clear-headed and mature enough to know that one's place of employment should not dictate how you behave toward an individual, regardless of what you do for a living. Like, it doesn't mean you have to be a rude, inconsiderate prick to said "rival" to show how invested you are in promoting your own cause.

If the Yankees want to joke around with David Ortiz, more power to them. Hell, if I met Papi, I'd be nice to him too. Because I hear he's a good fellow human being, and there are far too few of them in this world, and it was merely his bat that caused me days of unending self-pity following the 2004 season, not his personality. And being nice to someone before a game doesn't mean you can't strike his ass out a few hours later. Because if you actually have the goods to beat someone, you'll intimidate with your talent, and not have to worry about any kind of pre-game/off-the-field assholery.

New Favorite Blog of the Moment

For anyone who read the Baby-Sitters Club (and sometimes still do -- like Erica and me...come on, you know you've busted out Logan Likes Mary Anne recently and loved every page of it), and were completely baffled/horrified/fascinated by Claudia's wardrobe choices, I give you What Claudia Wore. It's hilarious for two reasons: The writer's subtle snark and, of course, Claudia's sense of fashion (and the other BSC members' admiration of it). Also, she does pick apart some of the other sitters' clothing, and it's ripe for said picking, as remember, this was the late '80s, early '90s we're talking here...

Sunday, April 13, 2008

I'm Going to Say It

I AM SICK OF "THE RIVALRY."

I'm tired of the media telling me it's important and historic and OMG, when I was feeling those things long before it came into vogue. And now I'm just like, god, can't it go back to being important and historic and OMG to just Yankees and Red Sox fans? Can't it just go back to being games sans overhype? Do I REALLY need to hear Jon Miller and Joe Buck dramatically waxing poetic on what it feels like to be part of it all (complete with movie trailer musical accompaniment)? When neither of them have ever been part of either fan base?

Let me tell you something -- if you are not a Yankees or Red Sox fan, you have NO IDEA what "THE RIVALRY" means. You'd also probably know that "THE RIVALRY" that the media talks about only exists when it's convenient for them, when it's a slow news week or ratings are needed. Because I'm fairly sure I'm not the only one who feels this way. I know fans outside "THE RIVALRY" have long been sick of it (and lord knows, I can't blame them -- five years of this shit is... enough already), and I know, as a sane, card-carrying member of those who bleed Pinstripes, that this isn't a new, unexplored emotion among my own fan base.

Yes, there was a brawl in Game 3 in 2003, Boone homered, Jeter dove into the stands, Curtass pitched on a bloody stump, David Ortiz and Manny have raped and pillaged Yankee pitching, Varitek starts fights while wearing his full catcher's equipment, the Curse was reversed and Johnny Damon is a traitor. But enough is enough. Since the Yankees had that five-game sweep back in 2006, I haven't seen anything compelling going down between these two teams, or at least anything to make them more exciting and special than any other "rivalry" in baseball. The past is the past -- and right now, they're just two evenly matched teams with high payrolls who, especially in April, don't have much to be pissed at each other about. I mean, between 1978 and 2003 you didn't hear JACK about "THE RIVALRY." Even when the teams met up in the 1999 playoffs, the hype machine was nowhere near what it's like now...for a series in April. What the hell happened between then and now?

I'll get excited about it when, you know, something newsworthy happens. And it all actually means something again. Until then, "THE RIVALRY"? SO four years ago.

In Which I Feel My Age

I've just returned from celebrating Eric's b-day with the Hoboken Crew and half of NYU's student population. Or at least that's what it felt like at the bar we were hanging at. I mean, I know I'm pushing 31, but DAMN these people seemed youuuuung. How else do you explain that when Bell Biv Devoe's "Poison" comes on, everyone just moves to the beat instead of, I don't know, freak out? Like Liana, Christina and I did? Like EVERYONE did at Dexter and Vicki's wedding? I can only think it's because these people were still in diapers when the awesome wisdom of "Never trust a big butt and a smile" made the scene...

Also, It's been awhile since I spent a Saturday night out in NYC at a bar, so maybe someone can explain this to me: Why are girls these days dressing like they're going to the (slutty) prom when they're just going to the local watering hole? It's like expensive jeans and trampy tops have given way to (slutty...and probably pricey) bridesmaid dresses. Held up by stripper tape, as Christina noted. Like. it's dark in the bar (so who can admire your choice of clothing?), you know you're probably going to get spilled on and that dude who's chatting you up is probably imagining you without clothes on anyway, so what's the point of dressing like you're going to a (slutty) cotillion?

Darn kids.

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Spring Comes to My Humble Abode

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(And yes, I'm wearing shorts, pervs. I don't hang around around naked with socks on -- what do you think I am, a dude?)

Awww

Joba Chamberlain's "YESterdays" is like, the teariest hour and a half you can watch. And merely because everyone in his life is so proud of him, and it weirldy makes you proud of him, even though you don't know him personally. I don't remember a Yankee who was so embraced and beloved this quickly, but then I'm not sure I ever saw one with such a nice backstory, with such delightful people backing him up, which probably has a lot to do with it.

I think he might be the first player I want to succeed because you just want him to succeed, and not because he's actually, you know, awesome at what he does.

Also nice to know that Joba, like myself, is a professional towel snapper. Although my talent is mostly with dishrags and not big towels, so I doubt I could beat him in a fight. Not that I'd want to -- I wouldn't want to derail his progress as a Major League pitcher, as I have been known to draw blood (What? He was a guy I liked who hooked up with some other chick and he dared to say he doubted my towel-snapping ability. It was quite cathartic. Ah, college.)

Friday, April 11, 2008

I'm Glad Bobby Didn't Catch That Ball

And that Coco bunted. Otherwise, you know the headline tomorrow would've been "Wang Throws No-No, but E-Rod Mars Perfection." Or something equally whiny and shrill.

Also, my upstairs neighbor was watching the game, but for the life of me, I'm not sure who he was rooting for. Every now and then he'd make noises during strikeouts and calls at first, but they were sort of matter-of-fact. God, I hope he's not a Sux fan...

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

Random Text Message Exchange of the Night

Via Phillies fan and fellow Blue Hen Chris:

Chris: Pat Burrell looks like Ray Liotta

Me: So then he looks like Shoeless Joe Jackson!

Chris: Yes!

Highlights Lowlights For Children Yankees

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Photoshop in my hands is a dangerous, dangerous thing. Thanks, Dexter.

I Like David Cone in the Booth

I mean, he actually sounds delighted to be there and just gives off a friendliness with his voice, a la Bobby Murcer, and seems quite knowledgeble. Wheras Joe Girardi sounded perpetually irritated in the booth last year, Coney sounds like he's enjoying himself and doesn't make me want to hit mute or switch to SAP. And that's, like, great.

It's Been Too Long Since I Nicknamed a Neighbor Anyway

I think the toddler next door has the potential to grow up into a loud, big-footed neighbor. Hell, he already is.

So he shall henceforth be referred to as "Son of Sasquatch." Because I don't discriminate based on age when it comes to nicknames and my (lack of) sleep.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

You Know What Sucks?

Not being close to someone with whom you were once tight.

If there's one thing I learned from Anne of Green Gables (among the many things that movie has instilled in me) it's that true friends are always together in spirit. And I certainly hope that's the case here, but...

Meh.

Lazy Tuesday Post

Probably one of the best sports movie endings ever, and beautifully shot. I think my favorite part is reading the lips of the vendor, who is all "HOLY SHIT!" (FYI: Don't watch if you don't want to know what happens at the end of The Natural)

Monday, April 07, 2008

What's the 19th Century Term for "Hot Damn?"

So, the 1995 version of Sense and Sensibility is one of my all-time favorite movies and when I heard Masterpiece Theatre was airing their own version this year, I was like, "nah, I won't like it." But I did like it. And for shallower reasons than the fact that it was actually well done. I mean, hi, Edward Ferrars:



It's enough to make me want to be dirt poor at the hands of an unscrupulous half-brother, just because he may have a hot-tay brother-in-law. Who likes to chop wood. In the rain.

*Fans self*

Sunday, April 06, 2008

Oh, I Forgot

One of the most annoying things about Ian Kennedy? People calling him IPK (what, you thought I was going to say his Friday failure to live up to the "possible Rookie of the Year" hype some columnists have been tossing his way?). Not his fault, I know, but when this dude near us on Friday kept yelling "Come on, IPK," like, 3,457 times, it was really irritating. I can understand if using someone's initials/nickhames shortens a name and actually sounds cool -- A-Rod, DJ, Moose, etc., but when a nickname has more syllables than your given first name? It's...god, shut up. It's not even like IPK stands for anything in the outside world (like NRA or OTB or PYT) that you can be like "ha-ha, funny that it relates to Ian too!" Perhaps it has meaning to him and this is how it started, and well, okay then. But I feel like this is a fan thing and an annoying fan thing at that, especially when these are the people who came up with something coolish, like "Hip Hip Jorge."

It would be like if everyone started calling me KAB. And then I would have to slap them.

Friday, April 04, 2008

In Which it Rains Down Suckage, But Not Actual Rain

I don't know how a forecast can call for an 80 percent chance of rain, with 1-2 inches predicted, and somehow, someway, not even drizzle. Especially when it is 1) a Friday night 2) the Yankees are playing in the Bronx and 3) I am in attendance. I am grateful to whomever made the call on holding off on the rain and thus letting the first Friday Night Season Ticket Game of the season happen, because it would've sucked to have to wait till our next game.

However, I would like a moment with the one responsible for the piss-poor excuse for pitching that I saw tonight, and bitch slap them. Dude, WTF, Ian Kennedy? And LaTroy Hawkins? (Admittedly, I expected it from Farnsworth.) I mean, kudos to the rest of the bullpen for pulling it together and being kind of impressive, but good LORD was that a mess. It was the fifth year in a row they lost my opening game, and quite frankly, I'm beginning to get a complex.

I don't know what it is about Fridays that makes this team just...fall apart, but I (as well as the rest of my Season Ticket Crew) do know that they will win tomorrow in kick-ass fashion. Because tomorrow, the sun will shine dazzingly, Andy Pettitte will throw a perfect game (with one arm tied behind his back, his self-prescribed penance for HGH usage), and Alex Rodriguez, needing a homer for the cycle, will end the game with a walk-off grand slam, then round the bases atop a golden unicorn named Allegra, as Jesus and the ghosts of popes past share a high-five out in Monument Park, and declare how awesome it was that they decided on coming to the game over seeing Wicked for the fifth time, and hey, why not head to Stan's for a celebratory shot? And so inspiring will be the end result, that Steve Perry and the other members of Journey will decide to put their long-standing differences aside and reunite, just so they can write a stadium-anthem-quality song that totally captures the greatness that was the Yankees vs the Devil Rays on April 5, 2008.

Because that stuff always happens on Saturdays.

It's good to be back.

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Who Needs a Man...When You Can Have 25 of Them?

It's occurred to me just how how well this song can be associated with my feelings for the Yankees in every day life. Except I run for the PATH, not the bus. And I do work at work, not just pray for Yankee wins. And I don't expect them to love me back. But you get it:

Tuesday, April 01, 2008

In Which My Non-Baseball Fan Audience is Like "Here We Go Again"

This tasty morsel of BS was in Bill Simmons' mailbag today when a fan asked if he felt weird having a Yankee on his fantasy team:

And most importantly ... the Yankees aren't the Yankees anymore. They haven't won a World Series in eight years; they don't have the Steinbrenner Mystique anymore; they're being run by Tommy Boy; they're tearing down The House That Ruth Built; the Mets are replacing them as New York's Most Relevant Baseball Team; they're four years removed from being the first team in the history of the NBA or MLB to blow a 3-0 lead in a series; and as long as Mr. April (A-Rod) is the face of the Yankees, they're a nonthreat in the playoffs.

Let's break it down bit by bit, because it's a lot of crap to swallow:

And most importantly ... the Yankees aren't the Yankees anymore

Come again? They were still wearing an interlocking NY and pinstripes in the game I saw tonight. They've been the Yankees since 1912. Still are. Anything else you apply to the name is your own dumbassery.

They haven't won a World Series in eight years

So that means they can't win one this year? Silly me, I thought what was done the previous year and the year before that, etc., didn't really matter when you start fresh on a 162 game season.

they don't have the Steinbrenner Mystique anymore

You mean the Steinbrenner Distraction? Listen, I'm glad the dude dumped oodles of his own money into this team and took it seriously, but when the Yankees started doing well in the mid-90s, it was because Steinbrenner was keeping his mouth shut and letting his GM and manager run the show. Remember him making Jeter Captain in the middle of the season? Threatening Torre's job in the media? That was all in seasons when the Yankees were "struggling". So spare me that he has a Mystique that makes this team win or something.

they're being run by Tommy Boy;

Really? Hal and Hank are pulling the same BS their dad pulled (although that whole Red Sox Nation rant of Hank's was priceless). What, because it's not George, it's not Mystique?

they're tearing down The House That Ruth Built

Aaaand that proves...what exactly? Oh, the Mystique will be torn down too. Listen, I am the biggest opponent of this new stadium, but I fail to see how a new ballpark makes them a less-potent lineup and shitty pitching-wise. Which are the two elements I thought made you win games...

the Mets are replacing them as New York's Most Relevant Baseball Team

This is my most favoritest part of the whole column because this assclown doesn't even LIVE in NYC. How the hell would he know what is and isn't relevant in the city? And how does one measure relevance? Because if it's by back pages, the Yankees win that one hands down (and I know several Mets fans who would wholeheartedly agree, as it pisses them off). If it's by attendance, the Yankees have drawn 4 million people the last god knows how many seasons, which is SICK. If it's by merchandise seen worn around the city, again, it's Yankees garb outnumbering Mets gear. The Mets have been competitive the last few seasons and maybe will one day be the city's darlings again, but right now, as it has remained the last few years, even with the Mets doing well, it's a Yankee town. And I say that as someone who lives and works in the area and can make an educated statement like that, unlike someone who lives, say, 3,000 miles away.

they're four years removed from being the first team in the history of the NBA or MLB to blow a 3-0 lead in a series

OK, I lied. THIS is my most favoritest part. WHAT does that have to do with ANYTHING current? Last year they were three years removed. Next year they'll be five years removed. I'd think that the further they get away from it, the better it will be for the fragile psyche that Simmons thinks this team seems to possess, but really, how does this even relate to what's going on NOW? I somehow doubt the misfortunes of 2004 keep Derek Jeter awake at night when he goes to bed with some starlet on his mattress of money...

and as long as Mr. April (A-Rod) is the face of the Yankees, they're a nonthreat in the playoffs.

You mean the man who was all "Jump on my back, and let my bat carry us into a playoff spot" last season? The Yankees don't get a chance to be "nonthreat" in the playoffs without him in 2007, so spare me the "Mr. April" crap. Remember that scene in The Natural when Roy fouls off a ball into the press box, where the sleazy columnist is drawing a derrogatory picture of him, and glass shatters all over the place? I wish A-Rod could do this. Just once. Except it would hit like 17 sportswriters, not just one.

So, let me offer a "Shut Up, Sports Guy," for the first time this season. God knows it probably won't be the last.

Squee!!

I am sitting in my living room with spring-like air coming through my open window, watching baseball.

Life is good.

ETA: It only took until the bottom of the first with two out for Michael Kay's first "And it splits the outfielders!" of the season. (And that swing of A-Rod's is pretty damn sweet, y'all)

I Don't Get It

I don't understand how the Yankees can endorse StubHub on their site and still claim to be anti-scalping, when the cheapest ticket for tonight's game on the site is a $110 BLEACHER SEAT. Hi, price gouging much? Yes, it's "Opening Day," but then I've viewed tickets in my season-ticket section (normally around 20 bucks) going for $50-$90 for a Wednesday night game against teams like the Devil Rays.

I just want to know how the site can even stay in existence, when most of the Yankee ticket prices I've seen go far beyond face value. Which is against the law.

Shut up, StubHub.

ETA: So I found this story in the NY Times, which disturbingly says:

A New York state law passed in 2005 essentially legalized reselling by allowing ticket holders to sell their seats for a maximum of 45 percent over face value.

OK, but even with that in mind, check out these prices for tonight's game. A bleacher ticket bought day-of-game is normally $14:



Now, I ain't no math genius, but even I know that is BEYOND a 45-percent markup. So WTF? Why does this get to go on? And why are people stupid enough to pay it? It's pathetic in that I'm convinced it's why you see so many empty seats around the Stadium, even when a sell-out is announced. It's disgusting, it fucks over the fans, and I'd love to see them brought down.

But it'll never happen. SIGH.