Final Home Opener

I came into possession of 4 tickets to the FINAL home opener at Yankees Stadium. This would normally delight me. Call Miggy, Morty & Pops, tell them to get the fuck over here. Problem being, it was 6PM Tuesday night, they live 6 hours away and I was going to be at work until at least 7:30. The game started at 7. Go go gadget math skills. By the time I actually was able to leave work it was 8PM and I was making a beeline for the #4 train @ 59th & Lex. I arrived at Yankees Stadium around 8:30 or as baseball people like to call it, the middle of the 6th. I missed Melky’s two nice catches, but got there just in time to see him hit the dagger dinger putting the Bombers up 3-2. But who wants to hear me recap the game when I can outline my debauchery…

• I get to my four seats, and when I say my I mean I was one mother fucker with four fucking tickets—in the 6th inning [not that I’m angry or anything]. I found 2 guys taking up half my seats, leaving me with the two obscured by the foul pole. I saw the pitch go into Melky and the ball come out, but I could not testify under oath that he actually hit it. For all I know he caught it and hucked a rising liner into right. Most amazing to me was that when I told the guys I had the seats and wanted them cuz others were obstructed, they were pissed off—AT ME. They yelled at me so bad, I thought I stole my own car.
• Let me assure you that Melky, Robbie Cano and Joba are mother fucking rockstars. They’re through standing at lines at clubs you and I can’t get in. There’s no bottom of the ninth cuz they already scored enough to win.
• When Joba hits his rough patch with the second/third batter of the 8th, the guy behind me claims Joba to be overrated and the Mo should be pitching a 2 inning save. After Joba worked out of it, I commented to the gentlemen that I was impressed a Yankees scout was sitting amongst the commoners in Box 530 and not in hell next to Mr. Steinbrenner. Keep in mind, I’m white in the Bronx lipping off to a Puerto Rican. If we weren’t in The House, I’m pretty sure I might have been shanked.
• Apparently Giambi is sipping on some sizzyrup. Cuz there’s no other explanation for his catch in the 9th.
• I saw a Puerto Rican kid and a Cuban kid steal an ARod t-shirt from Stan’s after the game at Stan’s. I would have laughed at this were I not convinced I had already cheated death with my middle of the 8th antics with Pachanga from Carlito’s Way. I was most happy to see two of our city’s youngsters not beset by racial stereotypes and working as a unit to steal the $15 shirt of a guy with purple lips.
• When I was waiting for the L @ Union Sq, someone jacked the performer on the platform. I saw a guy hightailing it up the stairs followed by a couple of plain clothes cops. I moved to see the performer’s set up with the bongo knocked over and the guitar cable wrapped around the column. I was disappointed. Not because one of this city’s talents was robbed on a subway platform, but because I got there too late to see it. That would have been awesome to see a guy with his guitar plugged in chasing a kid around the column only to get yanked back Wile E. Coyote style.

Oh yea, Yanks won 3-2. I saw a nice home run, Wang’s pathetic 7th, Joba avoid danger like Mystical (Get on the flo’), the after effects of Giambi eating his Wheaties and felt the stadium shake after the 8th, when Sandman hit. JOBA RULES!