In sports there are a handful of things you rarely get a crack at: breaking 80, bowling a 200 or better, hitting a game-winning three pointer at the buzzer, taking an interception to the house for the game-winning touchdown in your Thanksgiving day flag football game, and catching a major league foul ball.
Last night I had the opportunity to cross one of those off the list, but instead I'm reminiscing and wondering what could've been.
It was the 5th inning, I think. I can't really remember any specifics about the inning or what eventually came of Vladimir Guerrero's at-bat. What I do remember is immediately standing up, instinctively reaching sideways in anticipation and coming up mere centimeters short. To tell you the truth it was all one big blur.
Sports thrive on adrenaline. Whether you're playing a pick-up game at 24 Hour Fitness or NBA Live from your couch, once a challenge is presented the blood starts pumping and your adrenaline takes over. Boxing is the best example of a sport that thrives on adrenaline. They oftentimes say boxers have a hard time remembering anything about their fight once the match is over. Things we as sports fan can recollect and repeat with astounding accuracy; what happened in each round, how many punches each boxer landed, how many punches each one took, what punch was the final blow, how many times each boxer got hit in the groin, how many cheap shots were taken. For them however, they're like Tara Reid trying to remember a night in Acapulco, they can remember a few things but for the most part the specifics are forgotten.
Adrenaline does that to you. It filters out the less than memorable, irrelevant and embarrassing moments while leaving a skeleton of the entire event. And that's exactly what happened once the foul ball landed in section 423, seat 15.
Let me start off by saying that in ANY other circumstance I'm sitting in that seat. (As partial season ticket holders my family gets four tickets at about 20 Angels home games. Some are duds, some are blowouts, some are disappointments, but for the most part we're always able to catch quality games. Sitting in the first section of the upper tier of the ball park about five rows up five strides up the first base line, we get very few cracks at balls leaving the field of play. Conversely we have a Birdseye view of foul balls landing amongst the crowd with rare opportunities to make plays of our own sprinkled in.) If my whole family goes, I'm sitting in that seat. If just my girlfriend and I go, I'm sitting in that seat. If my girlfriend, my mom, my sister and I go, I'm sitting in that seat. If my girlfriend, my cousin, my uncle and I go, as was the case yesterday, I'm sitting in seat 14.
Looking back on what happened it's quite intriguing because it all started due to something I condemned in this article about proper fan etiquette at ballgames. My girlfriend was coming down the steps and as the pitcher went into his windup we all stood for her return - a HUGE no-no by all accounts. Then it happened.
Guerrero ripped one foul which was practically on dead aim for our row. Since we were already standing for my girlfriend we had a crucial and decisive head start on the competition. We were Chad Ochocinco and the rest of our section was Rags to Riches. As the ball majestically floated into our section I went through four stages of anticipation. First, I slowly realized the ball had enough juice to make it into our section (we've seen tons of foul balls come our way only to fall short, so for a ball to have enough juice to reach us is quite an accomplishment). Then, I realized it was heading right to us (and by "right to us" I don't mean "two rows down causing us to lose our balance as we reach out for it and end up crowd surfing amongst unsuspecting fans with our shorts halfway down our butt"). Then, I'm pretty sure an unusual, awkward and downright scary look manifested on my face as I reached sideways for the ball (a la the face Mike Dunleavy made after Zach Randolph launched a 25-footer with seconds left in a game against the Cavaliers earlier this season). Then, just as my heart started beating heavily and my adrenaline started flowing I consciously realized my cousin was going to grab it so I begrudgingly pulled my hand back. Immediately I was looking for the ricochet, but there was no ricochet. The ball had landed dead center in the palm of his gloveless hand. I, on the other hand, was left empty-handed.
It took a good half-inning for my adrenaline to give way, but once it did I was searching for answers, one in particular: Why did I pull my hand back at the last possible second?
Only after the fact did I realize the rarity of the moment. A moment I will rarely, if ever, get another crack at. I don't recall what Vlad did in the at-bat. I don't remember if the Angels scored or not in the inning. I can't remember how many "Good catch!" and "Can we see the ball?" exclamations we heard following the catch. All I remember is this little inkling telling me not to jeopardize the possibility of my cousin catching the foul ball in hopes of us celebrating the catch together.
But as he rose the ball in triumph I couldn't help but think, "that should've been me."
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Red, White & Blue ... And More Red
Fourth of July family parties are a cornucopia of activities, laughs and memories. First you have the very healthy yet not so delicious pre-meal snacks (i.e. chips, veggies, nachos, etc...). After eating your fair share of celery and Doritos out comes the delicious yet very unhealthy main dishes; the hot dogs, hamburgers and the juicy steaks. Then, after stuffing your face like you're Joey Chestnut and proclaiming you can't stomach another bite, you dive into the desserts faster than Jessica Simpson dives into an all you can eat buffet.
Then comes the illegal fireworks, the healthy laughs, the jokes, the "Kid X, GET AWAY FROM THE FIREWORKS!!!" scare, and most importantly the lasting memories.
With all that said, it's fitting that the Fourth of July capped off an up-and-down week for the Boys in Red. Doesn't quite have the same ring to it as the Boys in Blue, does it?
After taking control of the AL West for the first time all season the Angels began the week with an inspiring win in Arlington against the rival Rangers (oops, I guess they're just the Rangers considering the Angels aren't allowed to have any rivalries considering we've only been around for 30 some odd years and other storied franchises have been around since the dawn of civilization so they can't take us seriously. My bad.) This win inspired me to write a piece about how the Angels are just about ready to separate themselves from the rest of the pack. You won't see this piece in my archive because I never wrote it. I was this close to writing it but decided to play 18 instead. Luckily I didn't because as the series continued the Angels reverted back to their April and May selves with back-to-back losses to erase any glimmer of hope for a stress-free second half to the season.
The one game that stood out to me was Wednesday night's game, or at least the little bit of it I watched live. Picking it up in the top of the ninth Juan Rivera continued his string of 'Eff You' homers, blasting a clutch 3-run bomb that tied the game 7-7. (At 31 years of age Rivera is on pace for 30 home runs and 100-110 RBI's, both would be career highs. Luckily Rivera is hitting home runs in Anaheim and not New York, Boston or Philadelphia or else he'd be getting asked more than a few questions about his sudden peak in performance. Come to think of it, does anyone outside a 30 mile radius know that Anaheim even has a baseball team? Or that Anaheim is even city? Or that we won a little thing called the World Series in 2002? Yet I digress.)
However with any positive comes a negative, correct? Well Mike Scioscia, in a last ditch effort to win the series and steal a game we had no business winning in Texas against a hot hitting Rangers squad who had already plated seven runs put in ... Justin Speier?!?!? The same Justin Speier that can't seem to avoid the inevitable "hanging slider" that ends up landing in the upper deck of a ballpark near you? The same Justin Speier that whenever he trots to the mound elicits a Jigsaw-esque "Game Over!" from Angels fans? The same Justin Speier that draws more F-bombs in disgust from Angels fans than hearing the name Dallas McPherson? That Justin Speier? I mean, it's not like we have the major league saves leader in our bullpen or anything.
But no. The excruciating "Justin Speier is on in relief" announcement was enough cause to change the channel and forget about any possible extra-inning rally.
Sure enough Hank Blalock deposited a "hanging somethingorother" into the grassy area behind the center field wall. Three things happened as that poor baseball flew into the abyss: 1) the stadium erupted in elation, 2) every Angels fan said "See, I told you so" and 3) the Angels lost their lead in the AL West. I will never get over the Justin Speier signing. I just won't. And you can't make me.
But true to form the resilient Angels bounced back from a deflating loss to take the first game of a four-game set against the lowly Orioles. Come to think of it, have the Orioles ever been anything but lowly? Sure they play about 1/4 of their games against the Red Sox and Yankees, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut sometimes. I mean what do they gotta do to switch divisions? With the way the Red Sox and Yankees spend money the Orioles are not only over matched on the field, they're over matched off it. If the Red Sox are "Terminator Salvation" and the Yankees are "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen" then the Orioles are "The Proposal." They're not good enough to earn the big bucks at the box office but they'll entertain you for a while with what they got, but half way through the movie you'll realize you should've spent your money on a better cinematic adventure. If that made any sense.
If the Texas series was the chips and dip and the first Orioles game was the nachos and veggies then Ervin Santana's less-than-triumphant return to the mound on Friday was the "Oh my god Timmy has a lit firework in his hand" moment of the week.
Santana went 16-9 last year as the number 2 starter on a very deep Angels squad. Loaded with oodles of swag and a You Can't Hit This mentality Santana looked like the Next Big Thing in Anaheim. Then two words no pitcher, young or old, wants to hear floated into his limited English vocabulary: elbow injury. Suddenly, Santana was staring down the barrel of the same fate as fellow countryman and up-and-coming phenom Francisco Liriano. Liriano underwent Tommy John Surgery in 2006 and missed the entire 2007 campaign and has yet to round back into shape.
Luckily Santana avoided Tommy John Surgery but the lingering effects of his elbow injury have been evident in his last two starts. In his most recent outing he gave up 6 runs (4 earned) on 8 hits in 5 innings. As of right now Angels fans are trying to find a glimmer of hope in the 26-year-old right hander with the chinstrap beard and short dreadlocks, but the future isn't looking too endearing. I hope I'm wrong. I really hope I'm wrong.
If the Texas series was the chips and dip, the first Orioles game the nachos and veggies, Ervin Santana's return to the mound the "Oh my god Timmy has a lit firework in his hand" moment then Saturday's Fourth of July extravaganza was the lighting of the first illegal firework. And man was it a beauty.
First of all, I'd like to say the return of Vladimir Guerrero as a legitimate home run threat has to rank up there with the returns of Michael Jordan in 1995, The Rock and Michael Jackson in 2001, and Robert Downey Jr. with "Iron Man" and "Tropic Thunder" in 2008. It ranks just above the returns of New Kids on the Block, Manny Ramirez, and Britney Spears. And it ranks lightyears ahead of the irrelevant returns of Lindsay Lohan and "Paris Hilton's My New BFF."
Ever since I prematurely buried Guerrero's career he's started mashing the ball. Better yet he's not swinging at bad pitches (OK, I made that up). But at least he's hitting the good ones out of the park. There's no better exclamation in sports than the "Vlad what are you swinging at?!?! {pause} Wooooohoooooo!" response to a Guerrero home run. (OK, I lied about that too. The only other better exclamation is the "GET IN THE HOLE!!!!" exclamation after every Tiger Woods shot. That will forever be the best exclamation in sports. Bar none.)
The reemergence of Vladimir Guerrero must have done something to my golf game because just as he began jacking dingers out of Angel Stadium I began sticking irons and wedges into the green with ease. Is it silly to believe Vlad's reemergence in the batter's box and my improvement on the golf course is somehow mysteriously tied together? Of course. Do I still believe it? You betcha. Believe me, with my inconsistent golf game you'd be looking for anything positive to grab on to. I'm doing everything but wearing the Jason Giambi golden thong at this point.
A gutsy come from behind victory against the lowly Orioles on Sunday and a 5-2 Texas win Sunday night combined to put the two ballclubs in a first place tie in the AL West. If the Texas series was the chips and dip, the first Orioles game the nachos and veggies, the second Orioles game the "Oh my god Timmy has a lit firework in his hand" moment, the Fourth of July the first illegal firework, then the Fourth of July weekend as a whole must have been the big firework finale.
And if this patriotic weekend was any indication of the near future, this upcoming Texas series in Anaheim starting Monday will be a combination of the healthy laughs and lasting memories.
Then comes the illegal fireworks, the healthy laughs, the jokes, the "Kid X, GET AWAY FROM THE FIREWORKS!!!" scare, and most importantly the lasting memories.
With all that said, it's fitting that the Fourth of July capped off an up-and-down week for the Boys in Red. Doesn't quite have the same ring to it as the Boys in Blue, does it?
After taking control of the AL West for the first time all season the Angels began the week with an inspiring win in Arlington against the rival Rangers (oops, I guess they're just the Rangers considering the Angels aren't allowed to have any rivalries considering we've only been around for 30 some odd years and other storied franchises have been around since the dawn of civilization so they can't take us seriously. My bad.) This win inspired me to write a piece about how the Angels are just about ready to separate themselves from the rest of the pack. You won't see this piece in my archive because I never wrote it. I was this close to writing it but decided to play 18 instead. Luckily I didn't because as the series continued the Angels reverted back to their April and May selves with back-to-back losses to erase any glimmer of hope for a stress-free second half to the season.
The one game that stood out to me was Wednesday night's game, or at least the little bit of it I watched live. Picking it up in the top of the ninth Juan Rivera continued his string of 'Eff You' homers, blasting a clutch 3-run bomb that tied the game 7-7. (At 31 years of age Rivera is on pace for 30 home runs and 100-110 RBI's, both would be career highs. Luckily Rivera is hitting home runs in Anaheim and not New York, Boston or Philadelphia or else he'd be getting asked more than a few questions about his sudden peak in performance. Come to think of it, does anyone outside a 30 mile radius know that Anaheim even has a baseball team? Or that Anaheim is even city? Or that we won a little thing called the World Series in 2002? Yet I digress.)
However with any positive comes a negative, correct? Well Mike Scioscia, in a last ditch effort to win the series and steal a game we had no business winning in Texas against a hot hitting Rangers squad who had already plated seven runs put in ... Justin Speier?!?!? The same Justin Speier that can't seem to avoid the inevitable "hanging slider" that ends up landing in the upper deck of a ballpark near you? The same Justin Speier that whenever he trots to the mound elicits a Jigsaw-esque "Game Over!" from Angels fans? The same Justin Speier that draws more F-bombs in disgust from Angels fans than hearing the name Dallas McPherson? That Justin Speier? I mean, it's not like we have the major league saves leader in our bullpen or anything.
But no. The excruciating "Justin Speier is on in relief" announcement was enough cause to change the channel and forget about any possible extra-inning rally.
Sure enough Hank Blalock deposited a "hanging somethingorother" into the grassy area behind the center field wall. Three things happened as that poor baseball flew into the abyss: 1) the stadium erupted in elation, 2) every Angels fan said "See, I told you so" and 3) the Angels lost their lead in the AL West. I will never get over the Justin Speier signing. I just won't. And you can't make me.
But true to form the resilient Angels bounced back from a deflating loss to take the first game of a four-game set against the lowly Orioles. Come to think of it, have the Orioles ever been anything but lowly? Sure they play about 1/4 of their games against the Red Sox and Yankees, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut sometimes. I mean what do they gotta do to switch divisions? With the way the Red Sox and Yankees spend money the Orioles are not only over matched on the field, they're over matched off it. If the Red Sox are "Terminator Salvation" and the Yankees are "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen" then the Orioles are "The Proposal." They're not good enough to earn the big bucks at the box office but they'll entertain you for a while with what they got, but half way through the movie you'll realize you should've spent your money on a better cinematic adventure. If that made any sense.
If the Texas series was the chips and dip and the first Orioles game was the nachos and veggies then Ervin Santana's less-than-triumphant return to the mound on Friday was the "Oh my god Timmy has a lit firework in his hand" moment of the week.
Santana went 16-9 last year as the number 2 starter on a very deep Angels squad. Loaded with oodles of swag and a You Can't Hit This mentality Santana looked like the Next Big Thing in Anaheim. Then two words no pitcher, young or old, wants to hear floated into his limited English vocabulary: elbow injury. Suddenly, Santana was staring down the barrel of the same fate as fellow countryman and up-and-coming phenom Francisco Liriano. Liriano underwent Tommy John Surgery in 2006 and missed the entire 2007 campaign and has yet to round back into shape.
Luckily Santana avoided Tommy John Surgery but the lingering effects of his elbow injury have been evident in his last two starts. In his most recent outing he gave up 6 runs (4 earned) on 8 hits in 5 innings. As of right now Angels fans are trying to find a glimmer of hope in the 26-year-old right hander with the chinstrap beard and short dreadlocks, but the future isn't looking too endearing. I hope I'm wrong. I really hope I'm wrong.
If the Texas series was the chips and dip, the first Orioles game the nachos and veggies, Ervin Santana's return to the mound the "Oh my god Timmy has a lit firework in his hand" moment then Saturday's Fourth of July extravaganza was the lighting of the first illegal firework. And man was it a beauty.
First of all, I'd like to say the return of Vladimir Guerrero as a legitimate home run threat has to rank up there with the returns of Michael Jordan in 1995, The Rock and Michael Jackson in 2001, and Robert Downey Jr. with "Iron Man" and "Tropic Thunder" in 2008. It ranks just above the returns of New Kids on the Block, Manny Ramirez, and Britney Spears. And it ranks lightyears ahead of the irrelevant returns of Lindsay Lohan and "Paris Hilton's My New BFF."
Ever since I prematurely buried Guerrero's career he's started mashing the ball. Better yet he's not swinging at bad pitches (OK, I made that up). But at least he's hitting the good ones out of the park. There's no better exclamation in sports than the "Vlad what are you swinging at?!?! {pause} Wooooohoooooo!" response to a Guerrero home run. (OK, I lied about that too. The only other better exclamation is the "GET IN THE HOLE!!!!" exclamation after every Tiger Woods shot. That will forever be the best exclamation in sports. Bar none.)
The reemergence of Vladimir Guerrero must have done something to my golf game because just as he began jacking dingers out of Angel Stadium I began sticking irons and wedges into the green with ease. Is it silly to believe Vlad's reemergence in the batter's box and my improvement on the golf course is somehow mysteriously tied together? Of course. Do I still believe it? You betcha. Believe me, with my inconsistent golf game you'd be looking for anything positive to grab on to. I'm doing everything but wearing the Jason Giambi golden thong at this point.
A gutsy come from behind victory against the lowly Orioles on Sunday and a 5-2 Texas win Sunday night combined to put the two ballclubs in a first place tie in the AL West. If the Texas series was the chips and dip, the first Orioles game the nachos and veggies, the second Orioles game the "Oh my god Timmy has a lit firework in his hand" moment, the Fourth of July the first illegal firework, then the Fourth of July weekend as a whole must have been the big firework finale.
And if this patriotic weekend was any indication of the near future, this upcoming Texas series in Anaheim starting Monday will be a combination of the healthy laughs and lasting memories.
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