As my hangover from last night's VHD show and other festivities hits hour 17, some highlights from the Red Sox/Royals game I attended on Tuesday night:
- About four months ago, as the streak of Royals games I had been to without seeing a win crept into double digits, I circled this date on the calendar and predicted that this would be when the streak ended. It was just inevitable that it would happen against the Sox. Last week, as the pitching rotations took shape, and I realized it was going to be Paul Byrd vs. Zack Greinke, my reaction was one simple word: Fuck. And as the Royals put up a 5 spot in the first inning, I was extra crabby. Not so much that the Sox were losing, but more that I predicted it in the first place, and that it was so easily predictable it was stupid. (And also because WHY THE HELL IS PAUL BYRD EVEN STARTING GAMES FOR BOSTON? The Sox just straight-up released Brad Penny and John Smoltz, which is fine, I guess, they both sucked- but if the alternative is to cold-call a guy with an 88 mph fastball, who was sitting on his couch in retirement....then no thanks. I'll take the former Cy Young winner or the former starter of the All-Star Game, if it's all the same to you. Just ridiculous. Grow up Peter Pan. Count Chocula.)
- The other reason I was extra annoyed? I HATE seeing random streaks like this end. It's why I haven't gone to bed before midnight since 1997. It's why, my senior year in college, I was pissed at the girl who sat next to me in class after I lent her my pencil that I had been using since my sophomore year of high school, and she accidentally broke it. (I mean legitimately pissed. We were friendsies with bensies at the time, but I couldn't even look at her for like a week without seeing my broken pencil and getting mad all over again.)
- #3 funniest thing I heard from a Royals fan: Kevin Youkilis tapped a ball foul that David Ortiz deftly snagged off a tricky bounce from the on-deck circle, earning a chorus of whooooaaaas and some applause. Then as it quieted down again, a guy shouted loud enough for the entire stadium to hear: "That's an easy play when you're on the JUICE!"
- #2 funniest thing I heard from a Royals fan: There was an elderly couple in the seats directly to my right. After a Royals reliever threw one wildly to the outside and the ball skipped to the backstop, he deadpanned: "Tries the corner and missed." Anytime a guy old enough to have fought in WWII is quoting Major League, probably the best baseball movie of all time, he's a winner in my book.
- #1 funniest thing I heard from a Royals fan: Around the 6th inning, the requisite beach ball started making its way around the upper deck. Someone accidentally hit it too hard, and it toppled over the rail, down below to the good seats directly behind home plate. Everyone started immediately booing the poor girl, and one college age-guy stood up and shouted: "What the hell? Why'd you give it to the rich kids, they already get everything they want in life! And now they have our beach ball!"
- My new favorite douchebag move to pull at a ballgame: in between innings, when they do those little games on the Jumbotron where they put a ball in a suitcase or something, and shuffle and flip them around and you have to follow it and name which suitcase your ball is in at the end, and the whole crowd is yelling "Two! Two! Twooooo!" (this works great at Kaufmann because they made the game REALLY easy and even a three-year-old would be able to guess correctly) I love to yell the wrong number repeatedly, at a loud volume, and preferably throwing in some "Are you guys crazy? What suitcase were YOU watching?" Then when they announce the correct number, everyone starts taunting me and I can play the guy who refuses to accept that he's wrong and claiming the game is rigged (not exactly a difficult acting job for me.) Easy entertainment there. Fun for the whole family.
- At some point Alex went to the concessions for food, and the plan was for her to bring me back the greatest thing in my life, the crown jewel of my diet, the greatest $6 west of the Mississippi: Kaufmann Stadium chili cheese fries. After a few minutes, she sends a heart-stopping texty: They're all out of fries. I'm instantly in Nancy Kerrigan "Why me? Why now? Whyyyyy?" mode. I'd been thinking about those cheese fries since the moment I woke up that morning. My night is pretty much ruined. I sullenly reply that she should just see if they have pizza or something, and literally slump in my seat. The aforementioned elderly couple ask me if I'm OK (I'm sure it looked like I just found out my pet goldfish died or something) and I explained the situation. They understandably laughed at me. 15 minutes later, Alex had yet to return, and suddenly a light bulb went off in my head: what if Alex just meant that they were temporarily out of fries, and now it was taking her so long because they were cooking up a new batch? I was a new man. As Andy Dufresne taught me, hope is a good thing. Maybe the best of things. Then even more time passed, and my excitement waned a bit. I'm a natural pessimist; once the possibility of the worst-case scenario presents itself, I prepare myself for exactly that. When Alex finally rounded the corner, tray of chili cheese fries in hand, it was all I could do to not leap out of my seat and start cheering. I couldn't, however, keep a gigantic smile from bursting upon my face, which drew laughs and high fives from most of the section around me, who by now were aware of my plight. I even received a heartfelt congratulatory handshake from the old guy, like my firstborn son was just born or something. Moments later, as I began plowing through the cheese fries that had just put me through such an emotional roller coaster, I reflected upon the ridiculousness of my overreaction. Then I took another bite, and was reminded all over again why there couldn't be any other way. Hope IS a good thing, and no good thing ever dies.
