Football '14 Week 8: One Last Chance.

       Well, I am on the road again.  I have spent the last few days here in New Orleans drinking too much and meeting celebrities and now, finally, it is game day. 

I am ready for a do-or-die game against the Packers on Sunday Night Football; I really will be waiting all day for Sunday Night...

You might look at that photo and wonder what is draped across my tickets...

Somehow, I forgot my lucky stadium day helmet (I blame leaving at 4am on Thursday).  So I had to improvise and yesterday I came across this glorious thing at the Black and Gold Shop in Metarie.  And I must say, it makes me look fabulous.  Besides, what fun is football without silly hats?

At 2-4, the Saints need this win in the worst way.  In a poor division, 9-7 could easily mean a playoff spot.  If they do find a way to blow this game as they have so many this season, I do have a back-up plan.

I got a hatbox full of junk wax cards to go through (gotta love the antique shops in this town), which, after a drink or three, should yield some amusing results.  But I hope it doesn't come to that.  I want a dominating win followed by an evening of late night decadence.  Luckily in New Orleans, it is hard to tell the victory celebrations from the defeated drownings. 

Ugh.

     Last week my best friend asked me if I wanted to accompany him and his wife to this evening's Mets game.  I eagerly took him up on the offer since the Mets have been playing halfway decent baseball of late.

Omnes relinquite spes, o vos intrantes

We pre-gamed at a local pub by them in Astoria and made our way out to Citifield via the 7 train.  And look, I was in my Seaver Jersey by the Seaver gate.  It would seem to be kismet.

And lemme tell you, you couldn't ask for a better night for a ball game.  It was 73 degrees with no humidity and nice light breeze coming off the bay.  The weather was beautiful...and by far the highlight of the game.



I should have known when they scored seven runs on Monday that it was their entire week's allotment and that there was no way they would get around to scoring that many again.  I predicted they would be three hit.  I was wrong, they were seven hit.  The Phillies hit a couple of solo home runs early so the game was close for a while.  Then Chase Utley, my best friend's wife's favorite player, hit a grand slam.  Did I mention she is a huge Phillies fan?  Yeah.


I think this picture says the proverbial thousand words about how I feel about this awful game.   At least it didn't rain.

Dollar Hot Dog Night: The Return.

       As I pointed out in this very popular post from last month, I got my brother the same thing this year for his birthday as I did last year.  Oh, I usually get him tickets to a baseball game but this year I got him tickets to the same stadium with the same teams and the exact same promotion.  And oh what a promotion it is: dollar hot dog night!  But mother nature did her best to keep us from enjoying this glorious evening...

It rained on and off all day.  When we drove to the stadium, it started to pour.  As you can see, when we got there, the tarp was on the field.  There was hope though because there was a "window" - a small break where there was about two and a half hours of lighter rain and since it was supposed to pour all day Wednesday, it seems they were going to get this game in come hell or, um, high water.

At 8pm, around an hour after the game was supposed to start, they stated to take the tarp off the field.  This was by far the loudest cheer of the evening from the home crowd. 

You will notice in the upper left hand corner that they were showing the Flyers/Rangers game on the big screen.  This was the other highlight of the evening for the Philly fans as the Flyers would win the game (but alas, not the series).  Since I hate both of these teams, I was rooting for the meteor all series - but not this night since the Flyers play right next to Citizens Bank Park. 

How alike are my brother and I?  It took this deluge of rain for us to notice that we independently own matching raincoats.  Kinda sad but not the least bit surprising.  We also once bought the exact same pair of prescription sunglasses.  You'd think we came from the same gene pool or something and grew up in the same house.

An hour and an half rain delay meant that there were plenty of good seats available at game time.  The announced crowd was 28,000.  My guess is that maybe 5,000 were there at first pitch.  And I hold no grudge against any of them.  Anyone willing to sit out in this kind of rain and the 45 degree weather (oh, did I mention it was 45 fucking degrees out too? At the end of April?!?) is a hardcore baseball fan.  This made our seatmates, even though they were all Phillies fans, quite enjoyable.  No smack talk or jackasses at this game.  We were all in this together.

As for the game itself, Jonathon Niese obviously likes it cold and rainy because he pitched a wonderful game.  Seven innings of three hit ball, his only mistake a fastball to Marlon Byrd that was bone straight that went about 10 rows back in left field.

Niese's mound opponent did not take to the cold and wet as well.  Cole Hamels is a California boy and he looked it all night.  He was very uncomfortable and couldn't get a grip on the ball.  He walked the 8th and 9th hitters at one point to force in a run and I realized "hey, maybe this game could work out well for us..."

And in the end, it did.   By the seventh inning, we were the very last people in the third deck of the stadium (they had closed the upper deck early in the game) and the ushers asked us ever so politely to go to the field level so they could go home.  My brother and I obliged them and from there we watched the end of the game.   It was a real slog through the last few innings as the Mets bullpen decided to go 3-2 on what seemed like every batter.  Somehow, though, they did not give up anymore runs and the Mets won the game 6-1.  This was the first game my brother and I could recall in a very long time that the Mets won while we were in attendance.  My best guess at the last time they won one?  This game in Camden Yards in 2010.  By the end of the game, there were about 500 fans left in the stadium, half of them Mets fans.  Heck, there was more security people than fans by the end.  It was a nice, quick, happy ride home in the driving rain.  This might also be the first baseball game I have ever attended when I drank more hot cocoa than beer.

Oh, and what about the most important score of the night...who had more hot dogs?  Well...

This one was kind of over before it started.  My brother decided to go on Weight Watchers right after we decided to go to this game back in February, thus he only had three.  I, on the other hand, had seven just to break my mark of six from last year.  So yeah, I beat my brother handily in this department.  But I am also quite proud of his will power and of the 30 pound he has lost in that time.  Of course, when he complained about how cold it was at one point, I told him he would be a lot warmer with 30 more pounds of blubber on him.  Sometimes you can't win, huh?

Dispatch From Dollar Hot Dog Night.

       As I have for most of the last decade, I got my brother tickets to a baseball game for his birthday.  Last year, he turned 42, so it seemed quite appropriate to take in Jackie Robinson Day in Philly to watch our beloved Mets (slowly implode and lose).  This year, while perusing the Mets/Phillies dates early in the year, I was presented with three choices of premium: T-Shirt Night, Schedule Night, or Dollar Hot Dog Night.  That is a pretty easy decision; I mean, what the hell am I gonna do with a magnetic Phillies schedule and I certainly have no use (other than cleaning up after the dog) for a Phillies T-Shirt.  But two, shall we say, robust gentlemen at dollar hot dog night?  Now you're talkin'!

Plus, I decided not to skimp on the seats, either, getting 14th row behind the Mets' dugout.  Seeing as my brother was nice enough to get me this beauty for Christmas, it was the least I could do.  This wonderful view would be the high point of the evening, baseball wise.

Dillon Gee set the Phillies down 1-2-3 on eight pitches in the bottom of the 1st, so it seemed like this was gonna be a nice tight pitchers duel between him and Cliff Lee (Gee vs. Lee!).  Sadly, it was not to be.  Lee held up his end of the bargain, but Gee pitched a little batting practice in the second inning, giving up four runs - and he was lucky it wasn't more.  Fortunately, we had Dollar Hot Dogs to drown our sorrows:

That is a pile of six hot dogs purchased in a major league stadium.  Normally, that requires a home equity loan, but not on this glorious night. Much to my surprise, there was no limit to the number you could buy and they were real hot dogs, not discount crap ones.  Fatty McGee here was in heaven.

My brother was impressed by this initial haul and after we polished them off in quick order, he said "That was great, want some more?" and I was like "damn right!"  So I got up to go get more.  Suddenly, my brother chimes in, "hey! I'm gonna come with you, I want to see this gigantic pile of hot dogs..."  This decision would come back to haunt us.  In 20+ years and 100's of ballgames, we had never, ever gone to the concessions stand at the same time.  While standing on this line with an endless sea of Phillies fans, Dillon Gee gave up not one, not two, but three home runs...all in the span of eight pitches (sound familiar?).  As the frenzy died down around us, I looked at my brother and calmly said "We are never fucking going to the concession stand at the same time ever again." He could only nod his head in agreement.

The game was now 7-0 and, the way Lee was pitching, clearly out of hand.  When this happens, you have to find other ways to pass the time at a ball game.  Aside from stuffing myself with dollar dogs, I found two sure fire ways to amuse myself at this massacre.  #1 Bird Watching:

And I don't mean Marlon Byrd.  My eyes quickly found this redheaded punk rock girl in a Kirk Nieuwenhuis jersey.  She was sitting with a dude in a Carlos Ruiz jersey.  I should have rescued her and whisked her away to be with a real fan.  Twenty year old Max would have not thought twice about doing this.  Man, am I getting old.

#2 Antagonizing the locals:

The dude in the very lowest right hand corner had a Dave Cash Phillies jersey on (and kudos to him for being the only Phillies fan I have seen in the last few years with a throwback/vintage jersey other than Mike Schmidt).  After Jimmy Rollins made a terrible play on a ball, I made a few cracks about how he is wash up, how he had a rag arm, how undeserving of his MVP award he was, etc. etc.  Dave Cash dude immediately stood up to defend him and we got into it pretty good.  The mood sort of hung in the air for an inning until Ruben Tejada booted a grounder and I also made a crack about how he has 6 errors in like 7 games.  We then had a laugh about the whole thing.  Overall, I enjoyed his moxie.  Also keeping up the cliche of Philly fans was the girl who was drunk, passed out, and throwing up by the 4th(!) inning.  Stay Classy, Philadelphia.

The final score of the game was Phillies 8 Mets 3.  And it wasn't that close.  More importantly, in the battle of the titans, I eked out a victory over my bro: 6 hot dogs to 5.  And honestly, I could have eaten many more but my brother threw in the towel after five.  I had a good nine or ten in me, if I had to.

Complete Set Sunday - 2004 Upper Deck Rivals.

       Fear not, intrepid Starting Nine readers (of which, I believe there are nine of you), I have not abandoned my posting; I was just on a little pleasure trip to my old stomping grounds of Boston.  I went to see some good friends and to see a Sox game.  I would really have liked to have gone to see the 100th anniversary of Fenway on Friday, but alas, I could not get tickets to that game - not without skipping a mortgage payment anyway - so I settled on Saturday afternoon's game.  Red Sox vs. Yankees.  The Greatest Rivalry in Sports® etc., etc.  It was such a beautiful afternoon.  I was with my Sox fan friends.  We had damn good brews at the Boston Beer Works before the game (only poser pink hat fans go to the Cask and Flagon).  By the fifth inning, the Sox were up 9-0 and all was right with the world.  Everything was going so well.  And then...and then it all fell apart and something happened that has shaken my baseball fandom to the core - and remember, I am a Mets fan first and foremost so that is saying something.  The Red Sox coughed up that nine run lead.  And almost once over again.  They gave up seven in the seventh and seven in the eighth.  I was stunned, stymied, dumbfounded, and pissed.  I did something I have not done in 25+ years of going to baseball games.  I left early.  I looked at my buddies and said, "I need beer.  Right now...and they stopped selling them. Let's go." and I left.  I am kind of mad at myself for doing that.  I am also friends with far too many Yankees fans who left all form of nasty messages on my phone and facebook.  Sure, those first six innings were fun, but besides that, how was the play Mrs. Lincoln?  Yes, the Red Sox shot me in the back of the head.  It was a bad day for baseball.

It is with that backdrop that I present the 2004 Upper Deck Rivals.  

It is a set featuring the Red Sox and the Yankees and it was sold as a complete set in hobby outlets.  

It has 30 cards, which, out of some fit of laziness, I did not scan all of.  I probably skipped some of the Yankees.  I guess I am still mad.

Upper Deck did a bunch of these types of sets in the mid-aughts.  It is kind of a fancier version of the old Fleer boxed sets sold in drugstores and toy shops in the 1980's, but who cares? It has a bunch of classic photos and players and the Rivals section with contemporary positional match ups are well done and pretty awesome.

When I got this set in 2004, a local card shop (one of those overpriced mall-type ones that I don't frequent) was having a signing with Peter Gammons, who has cards highlighting What If? scenarios in the set.

The odd thing is that, at the time, my girlfriend worked directly with Gammons' nephew; I probably could have met him any time I wanted.  But as it turns out, I met him at the mall.  And he was very affable and friendly, we had a brief conversation about music and baseball (and his nephew) and he signed my big ass card.  That was a good day.

I have a few Red Sox sets, a couple from their World Series wins and this one, which was made right before they actually won it all in 2004.  This was at the very pinnacle of Red Sox/Yankees hostilities.  The 2003 ALCS was an all out war (brought to a nasty conclusion by Aaron bleeping Boone).  Then the 2004 ALCS happened.  The Sox came back from down 3-0 in the series to win.  And now, eight years later, they are choking away nine run leads.  Baseball is a funny, brutal game.  As you can tell by my rambling, I am still overly affected by yesterday's debacle.  I will reel it in and head for the big finish.  This set is in the binders because the Red Sox are my baseball mistress.  I don't love them like my wife, but I adore them all the same.  If they keep playing like they did yesterday, there won't be anymore sets for me to add to this one for a long long time.

Quick Postgame.

Here was my pregame view from the upper deck of Citizens Bank Park.

The game was a slog of Big Pelf putting guys on and getting out of it - at one point the Phillies had 12 hits and 6 walks and only three runs  - and the Mets not being able to hit Cole Hamels after putting up two quick runs.  It looked like those two runs might hold up, but then human gas can Manny Acosta decided throwing strikes was optional and walked in a bunch of runs.  The Mets eventually bowed meekly 8-2.  At least the post-game meal of Pat's Cheesesteaks was good...and by good I mean life-alteringly delicious.

As one other quick aside, I have an issue with the march of time and technology.  For years and years, my ticket stubs have mostly looked like this:

...and yes, I am the kind of nerd who saves all his ticket stubs...
 
If I wanted to dig into a deeper, more hidden box, I could find ticket stubs going all the way back to 1985, my first major league game - which was actually games, because it was a doubleheader (imagine that).  Now, I am not even going to lament the passing of the scheduled twin bill, I am going to lament that unless I buy tickets at the box office or from a season ticket holder, my ticket stub looks like this:

Or, if you have a color printer and the willingness to waste all that color ink (like my brother does), like this:

A folded up 8x11 piece of paper is not a ticket stub.  It ruins the whole tactile joy I get when I periodically find my pile of ticket stubs and go through them.  I wonder if Stub Hub would consider allowing you to print your online tickets like a ticket rather than an office memo?