Results tagged ‘ Dodgers ’
Only A Few More Days To My Thanksgiving Throwdown
Long time readers of this blog might remember last year’s Thanksgiving post, when I recounted the trouble I encountered as a Yankee fan at my friend’s Rhonda’s house in LA. (My family is back east, so my husband and I always spend turkey day at her place, where she hosts a beautiful dinner with all of her close friends and family members.)
Last year, the Yankees didn’t even make the playoffs, so I got an earful from Rhonda and her brother, who grew up in Chicago and are Cubs fans. I also heard it from her friend Mary Ann and her son Antonio, true blue Dodger fans. In fact, just about everybody at the table decided to make the Yankees the punch line of their jokes, and I was stuck defending my team by flashing the tattoo on my leg.
OK, I don’t have a tattoo but I wished I did. People ended up flinging insults at me and I ended up flinging food at them, and it got ugly.
This year should be very different, given that the Yankees won the World Series while the Cubs and Dodgers were home playing golf, but will it be? I’m anticipating the following from the hostile crowd:
“They bought the championship.”
“All the umpires’ bad calls went in their favor.”
“Jeter’s old.”
“A-Rod’s a cheater.”
“They bought the championship.”
“Burnett’s a head case.”
“Damon throws like a girl.”
“Teixeira chokes in the clutch.”
“They bought the championship.”
I would prefer a peaceful Thanksgiving, but I just know I’m going to need ammunition on Thursday.
So if anyone has any great comebacks, I’d be glad to hear them. I do have a weapon I didn’t have last year: the She-Fan Cam.
If anyone says something malicious about the Yanks, they’ll run the risk of having their foolish remarks published on YouTube, not to mention on this blog. And there’s another reason they should be afraid: I’m in charge of bringing the apple pie this year. If somebody isn’t appropriately respectful, they could wind up with this in their face.
I really hate to make other people cry, but if I’m pushed….
Will The Yankees Sweep The Twins?
I don’t know. Things could get scary in Minny on Sunday, and I’m not even talking about having to watch endless close-ups of Carl Pavano.
I’m not talking about Joe Mauer either, although he does give me hives every time he comes to the plate.
I’m not even talking about that crazy ceiling at the Metrodome and how easy it would be for, say, Johnny Damon to lose a fly ball.
I’m talking about the stadium itself. It has no open windows. It’s completely enclosed. It’s like a giant airplane with 100% recycled air, and you know what happens on airplanes. That’s right: people catch a cold. I think that’s why Twins fans wave those Homer Hankies.
They all use the hankies to sneeze into.
The Yankees warmed up at the Dome today and I hope nobody came down with anything contagious. Barring that, I’m looking forward to a great outing by Pettitte, more clutch hitting by the boys and maybe even a steal or two by Gardner.
I know I’ll be ready for Game 3. I’ll be wearing the exact same thing I wore for Games 1 and 2.
I’ll be ordering the exact same take-out turkey club sandwich and eating it as soon as the Yankees score their first run.
And I’ll be sitting in the exact same spot on the middle cushion of the white couch in my living room.
With more than a few hours to kill until the first pitch, I decided to leaf through a book I received in the mail today called “New York Yankees IQ: The Ultimate Test of True Fandom” by Tucker Elliot. Imagine my surprise when I turned to page 73 and discovered that “Confessions of a She-Fan” (the book) figured into one of their Yankees trivia questions! Check it out. It would make a fun gift.
The Dodgers just won the NLDS as I finished typing this post. It’s still weird to watch Joe Torre hugging “other” players, but a big congrats to them!
Who Can You Trust?
Let’s say you’re Joe Girardi. It’s the seventh inning of Saturday’s game against the A’s. Andy Pettitte has been pitching an absolute gem, and the Yankees are ahead 1-0. Pettitte’s only at 79 pitches but suddenly he’s in a jam.
Hairston: doubles.
Nomar: walks.
Cust: pops up.
You’ve got the rested and reliable Aceves warmed up and ready to go. Do you pull Pettitte?
Or do you let him keep pitching?
You take a walk out to the mound and ask your starter if he’s OK. Obviously, he says, “I’m fine, skipper. Let me get out of this inning.”
So you leave him in.
And then this happens.
Davis: singles, scoring Hairston. Score tied 1-1.
Crosby: bunt singles, loading the bases.
You walk back out to the mound, knowing the media and the fans are already second-guessing you, and you pull Pettitte. You give the ball to Ace and cross your fingers.
And then this happens.
Ellis: pops up. Huge sigh of relief.
Powell: singles, scoring two. A-s up 3-1.
Kennedy: singles, scoring one. A’s up 4-1.
Cabrera: doubles, scoring two. A’s up 6-1.
You walk back to the mound and pull Aceves, who recently told the media his name should be pronounced AcAYves, not AcEVes.
Dave Robertson retires the next batter. This being the scrappy, clutchy, comeback-y 2009 Yankees, the offense rallies, thanks to homers by Jeter and Tex, and keeps hope alive for a ninth straight win.
It is not to be. The Yankees lose 6-4 and the streak is over.
Oh, well. I knew it wouldn’t last forever. But I do wonder what I would have done if I’d been Girardi.
On a happier note, I had a great time last night at Dodger Stadium. The first thing I did was put on a Dodgers jersey so I’d fit right in.
Well? Why not? When Obama goes to a foreign country, doesn’t he don the local garb?
The second thing I did was gorge on all the incredible food offered at the restaurant for those with seats in the Dugout Club. Michael and I snagged a table and went to work. At one point, I actually looked up from my plate and at the next table was Dodgers legend Don Newcombe. What a nice guy! As he was getting up, he stopped by to shake our hands. He may be in his ’80s, but he’s still a big, strong, handsome dude!
I was too young to remember Newcombe’s specific accomplishments, so as soon as I got home I looked up his bio. Get this. He’s the only player in major league history to win the Rookie of the Year, the MVP and the Cy Young Award. Plus, he was the first black pitcher to start a World Series game and the first black pitcher to win 20 games. I was in the company of greatness.
Once in our Dugout Club seats, which are directly behind home plate, we talked to some diehard Dodger fans, including this guy.
He had autographs of players past and present all over his jersey.
Then there was Larry King, who holds dual citizenship as both a Yankee fan and a Dodger fan.
I saw Torre, naturally, but never caught a glimpse of Mattingly. Bummer. And yes, Manny was very much a part of the experience. The crowd goes wild when he appears in the on-deck circle, let alone at the plate. Note the unusual “stat” on the scoreboard. (“Manny is the first Dodger to hit a grand slam on his own Bobblehead night.”)
It
was a gorgeous night in L.A. People did the wave over and over again, and beach balls were bouncing around the stands. Everybody was having fun, and life was good. The only sour note came from the Marlins. They won the game. The nerve.
was a gorgeous night in L.A. People did the wave over and over again, and beach balls were bouncing around the stands. Everybody was having fun, and life was good. The only sour note came from the Marlins. They won the game. The nerve.
Too Late To Post Something Excellent
Just got home from the three-hour drive down to Dodger Stadium. The good news? The Yankees won again – their eighth “W” in a row – by beating the A’s 8-3. The bad news? The Dodgers lost to the Marlins. I feel awful for Cat of Cat Loves the Dodgers, since she was instrumental in getting me down to see the Dodgers in the first place, plus she outfitted me with a Dodgers jersey that fit me perfectly. (I’ll post a pic tomorrow.) Could I be a jinx? I’m 0-for-2 in games I’ve attended this season. Maybe I should stay away from the ballparks altogether. On the other hand, I had a great time tonight. The Dodgers have a terrific organization and they make the fan experience a memorable one. I did clutch when I saw Torre standing there in the dugout, then making his way to the mound with that same peg-leg walk he always had with the Yankees. Sigh. But I got a big laugh when my buddies on Twitter said they saw me on TV with my husband Michael. Our seats in the Dugout Club were fabulous. We were closer to the plate than the pitcher was.
As for the Yanks, sounds like Joba pitched another beauty and is suddenly becoming everything we all hoped for him. Melky, Posada and Jeter had a big night offensively.
Lots to write about, but for now I’m hitting the bed. ‘Night, everyone.
A Woman’s Work Is Never Done
Due to Thursday night’s long rain delay, I missed the game. I had to leave for the first session of the evening writing workshops I’m teaching with a writer buddy. (We’re “The Muse Madams” and you can read about us here.) So while I was sitting in a room with 12 aspiring writers and critiquing their work, I was dying to find out what was going on in the Bronx. Talk about having my head in two places.
When I got home, I ran inside and asked my husband who won. He was watching highlights of Mark Buerhle’s perfect game, which had been so exciting earlier in the day.
“The Yankees,” he said with a big smile. “Their seventh straight.”
“Tell me!” I said.
Michael, who keeps score just like I do, went through an inning-by-inning recap of the Yanks’ 6-3 victory over the A’s. No, it wasn’t the same as actually seeing the game, but his storytelling was pretty damn good. If he’d been in my writer’s workshop, I would have given him an “A.”
The main plot points, as he explained them, were:
* CC overcame a shaky first few innings and gave up three runs over seven.
* Hinske, playing right tonight, hit an RBI single to put the Yanks up 4-3.
* Tex had a homer and three RBIs.
* Posada knocked in two runs.
* And Hughes pitched both the eighth and ninth, so Mo could have the night off, and was perfect, earning his first major league save.
Of course this team will stumble over the next few months. They’ve already stumbled. But they are so much better than last year’s model in every way. Yes, it’s upsetting that Wang seems lost for the season; I don’t know how the Yankees will replace him in the rotation over the long haul or what they’ll end up doing about Joba’s innings limit. And yes, it would be nice to get a healthy Marte back in the pen, plus an effective Bruney. But these Yankees aren’t going away. They just aren’t.
It’s late here on the west coast, so I’m packing it in for the night. Tomorrow afternoon is my trip down to Dodger Stadium. I’m looking forward to it, but I’ll be glued to my iPhone until the Yankees game is over. Once again, I’ll have my head in two places.
Breaking News: Sergio Isn’t Halladay
In the first inning, I started worrying. Sergio looked so hittable, giving up a run on a double, a single and a wild pitch before I even settled into my favorite TV-watching chair.
“Oh, great,” I said to my husband Michael. “This guy is another Darrell Rasner. The score will be 10-0 before you know it.”
“You’re such a pessimist,” he said. “He got out of the inning without much damage. He’s not bad at all.”
Then came the third inning. With the score tied 1-1, Sergio not only served up a single to Roberts but made a throwing error trying to pick him off. Suddenly, it was 2-1 Baltimore.
“See?” I said. “He stinks.”
“He does not,” said Michael, after Sergio struck out Markakis and Scott.
We had our third and final debate about Sergio in the sixth inning, after the Orioles scored two more.
“He just lays ‘em in there,” I muttered.
“One of those runs wasn’t his fault,” said Michael. “Damon should have been charged with an error.”
In came Aceves, Sergio’s night was over, and he ended up notching his first win since ’07 as the Yanks went on to beat the O’s 6-4. The truth is, he didn’t stink. I was much too hard on him.
He pitched quickly, was around the strike zone (only walking one), and kept the Yankees in the game. Will he be a serviceable fifth starter going forward? As far as I’m concerned, the jury’s still out.
But I’ll keep an open mind. What choice do I have, since it’s clear that Wang won’t be pitching in the foreseeable future and hasn’t been the same since this happened?
Meanwhile, could we talk about how the Yankees got their six runs? They only had six hits. The O’s starter, Rich Hill, was very gracious and walked five in his short appearance. I had the Baltimore TV feed, and it was pretty funny how Jim Palmer and Gary Thorne went on and on about how bad Hill was. Talk about ripping your own guy.
A-Rod has been very clutchy lately and came through again tonight with a two-RBI single.
(Quick aside: Who does the Yankees’ laundry and how do they get the dirt stains out?)
Cano, who took a single away from Roberts in the seventh with a great play, silenced those critics who said he wasn’t clutchy (me, for instance) by homering with Swisher aboard.
Mo earned save #509, and the win put the Yanks back in first place in the division. They’ve played well since the break and deserve to be there. I’m feeling on top of the world right now.
I’m also very excited that I’ll be going to see the Dodgers on Friday night. Yes, the Dodgers. Thanks to Cat of the Cat Loves the Dodgers blog, I got an invite to sit in the Dugout Club that she often writes about. I’ll be able to see what Joe and Donnie and Bowa have been up to since they left the Yankees. Josh Ravich, the Dodgers’ director of media relations, has rolled out the red carpet for me. It’ll be a revelation to watch a game without having a nervous breakdown, which is the beauty of having a “second favorite team.”
To put me in the mood for Friday…
Was Manny Juicing In 2003?
I know. This is off-topic for the Yankees’ opening day in Baltimore. But I couldn’t exactly look away when I spotted the post on “WasWatching.”
According to a story in the LA Times, Jose Canseco gave a talk at USC over the weekend. He was asked about A-Rod and other players whom he’d accused of steroids use – claims that turned out to be fact. He discussed the list of 104 major leaguers who tested positive in 2003.
“What about Manny?” someone asked.
“His name is most likely, 90%, on the list,” said Canseco.
Really?
The reporter went in search of Manny for a reaction and found him at his locker. When told of Canseco’s remarks, he laughed and said, “I got no comment, nothing to say about that. I don’t even know the guy.”
So here’s my question. Is Jose Canseco a pathetic loser who goes around slandering players? Or is he a pathetic loser who goes around spreading the truth?
My opinion? He’s a little of both. It’s a sure bet the other names on that infamous list will trickle out over the course of the season, but I’m at the point right now where I don’t want to find out who’s on it.
I’m sick of the whole subject.
I don’t want to listen.
I’d rather stick my head in the sand.
So maybe Canseco will shut up just long enough for me to enjoy some baseball.
On the other hand, if I really don’t care about who’s on the list, why did I just write this post?
I guess it’s because no matter how I’d like to pretend the story doesn’t exist, it’s out there….lurking.
On The Town With The She-Fan Cam
I’m very lucky to live in a place where there are lots of other writers around. We celebrate when one of us gets a “yes” from a publisher, and we step in when one of us gets a “no” and threatens to jump off a ledge.
We write in different genres and are of different ages and backgrounds, but we share a profession that’s as satisfying as it can be humbling
and humiliating.
This afternoon I ran into one of my writer buddies, Melodie Johnson Howe.
Born and raised in LA, Melodie always dreamed of being a writer. But she was “discovered” by Hollywood at age 21 after acing a screen test at Universal, and was signed to a seven-year contract.
“For my first job, I was shot dead, covered in a sheet and carted away in an ambulance,” she writes on her web site. “Only my hair showed.”
Other roles followed, including one opposite Clint Eastwood in a movie called “Coogan’s Bluff.”
I once asked her what it was like to make out with Clint, and she wasn’t very enthusiastic. Apparently, all they did was soak in a tub filled with Tide.
“After a week of shooting, I said to my husband, ‘I don’t think Eastwood will make it as an actor.”
Right.
Melodie’s first novel, “The Mother Shadow,” was nominated for an Edgar award (the mystery genre’s equivalent of an Oscar) and featured a female duo of crime solvers.
She brought the characters back for her second book, “Beauty Dies.”
She also writes short stories for “Ellery Queen” magazine and posts weekly on a mystery writers’ blog called “Criminal Brief.” What really endears her to me is her passion for baseball.
I saw her today outside our local bookstore, seized the opportunity to talk about our favorite sport and whipped out the She-Fan Cam. I take it everywhere these days, causing most people to flee whenever they see me coming.
It’s just a tiny Flip Video camcorder. Nothing to be afraid of.
Will the Yankees and Dodgers meet up in the 2009 WS? Writers have vivid imaginations, but anything is possible.
And The Yankees Starter For Spring Training Game One Is….
…this guy.
Who is also this guy.
And this one.
This one.
This one.
And, most recently, this one.
Yes, it’s the well-traveled Brett Tomko, who found his way to the Yankees via a minor-league contract.
Will he have success against the Toronto Blue Jays tomorrow, mowing the hitters down like a clone of Roy Halladay (well, there’s a slight resemblance)? Or will he reveal his propensity to give up home runs – a quirk that earned him the nickname “Bombko” when he was with the Dodgers? To put it in other terms, will he be any good or will he be LaTroy Hawkins?
We will know in a matter of hours. One thing is for sure, however: After the game he will head home to his playmate – literally. He’s married to Playboy’s Playmate of the Month for February 1998….the lovely and talented Julia Schultz.
O.K., so she’s no Marilyn Monroe to his Joe DiMaggio. But I applaud her loyalty. How would you like to move to a different city every six seconds with a guy named Bombko?
Smackdown in Santa Barbara: How I Survived My Brush With Insane Dodgers Fans
The afternoon started so innocently, so tranquilly. It was a beautiful, unseasonably warm day in Santa Barbara – sunny skies and 80-degree temps. (Sorry to those in cold climates, but this is why I moved here.)
I was taking my five-mile walk along Shoreline Park. The idea was to get a little exercise, a little fresh air, a little relief from working at the computer.
I was wearing my Yankees cap as usual – the one with the rhinestones.
And I was listening to my iPod.
“Poker Face” is not a memorable song, but it starts the adrenaline pumping.
I was proceeding at a nice clip, feeling pretty good about life, when I came upon them.
O.K., so they weren’t carrying weapons. They looked scary just the same. And they blocked my path so I couldn’t simply power-walk past them.
“Hey, what’s with the Yankees hat,” said the biggest one. It was not a question.
“I’m a Yankee fan,” I said, restraining myself from adding, “You have a problem with that?” I’m not stupid. I was outnumbered, plus they were huge and I only weigh 100 pounds.
“Yankees suck,” said another guy.
“Yeah, they suck,” said the first one, getting in my face for emphasis.
At first, I figured they must be Red Sox fans, since we hear the chant from them all the time. But these guys didn’t bring up ’04 – the usual refrain – so I was confused.
“Fine,” I said, determined not to be intimidated. “Which team doesn’t suck?”
“Dodgers,” the leader said. “We’re Dodgers fans. Like you’re supposed to be.”
I squelched a laugh. “Why am I supposed to be?”
“Because you live here. You’re supposed to root for the home team.”
“I grew up in New York,” I said. “The Yankees are my home team.”
“But they suck,” said a third guy. None of them had much of a vocabulary.
“Maybe you’ve forgotten, but the Yankees have won quite a few championships. Twenty-six, to be exact.”
“So? The Dodgers won the NL West last year.”
“Right.” This was silly. “Who’s your favorite player?” In the spirit of the upcoming Inauguration, I reached across the aisle and tried to be friendly.
“Manny,” said the leader.
Did I dare break the news that Manny was no longer a Dodger – at least not presently?
“He’s a free agent,” I said. “He could wind up with the Giants for all you know.”
“I like Nomar,” said another one.
These weren’t Dodgers fans. They were clueless Dodgers fans.
“He’s on the verge of announcing his retirement,” I said. “The Dodgers haven’t re-signed him.”
“Russell Martin’s on the team,” said the leader.
“He’s a good catcher,” I acknowledged.
“He’s a good catcher,” one of them mocked me in a high sing-song voice. “Too bad the Yankees suck.”
That was one “suck” too many. I lost my patience and let them all have it.
“Who sucks now?” I shouted after the last one was splayed on the ground, on top of the others, bloodied and gasping for air. “Get. Off. My. Beach.”
(Yes, the ending is total fantasy. The real ending is that I neutralized them by boring them to death with great moments in Yankees history. Eventually, they moved on to harass somebody else and I continued my walk.)
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