Fifteen Frapping Innings!

It took fifteen innings for what I already knew would happen to go ahead and happen.

The #$%&ing AL beat the NL in the All Star Game.

I’m a devout NL girl. I loathe the Designated Hitter. I love that using the pitcher’s lack of hitting ability can become a strategy.

But even I have to admit after watching many of the interleague games this year…and last year…and years past…oh and most of the World Series for the past ten years…the AL is, probably, the stronger league.

*gah!* It gives me agita to actually say that out loud.

At least the NL made it sporting this year…

There were a few bright spots. The Giants entry to the fun, Brian Wilson, a closer coming in as middle reliever, didn’t embarrass us!

(Atlee Hammacker anyone?)

Our star boy, Tim Lincecum was a no-show after being admitted to a New York hospital with flu issues.

I was a bit sad about that, I would have loved to see Prince Tim pitch on the big stage. Oh well, he’ll continue to be our little ten-game-winner-at-the-All-Star-break secret.

Highlights were also the Rocky I love to Hate, Matt Holliday, depositing one over the fence. Also the NL battling themselves out of two innings with bases loaded and no outs. That they got FIVE outs in a row at the plate is really something.

Low light was the Marlin’s entry, one Mr. Dan Uggla. Nice three errors in two innings, meat!

*sigh* And so tonight, a day off for MLB. No baseball.

But something too look forward to: The Good Man and I got KICKIN’ seats for Friday’s game at AT&T Park.

C’mon Friday! Probable starters are CC Sabathia and Matt Cain.

w00t!

/geek out

Dreams can come true!

This weekend, I’m happy to announce, a dream of mine came to realization. And I’m still totally geeked out about it.

You’ll have to forgive me while I wax rhapsodic about this. It may mean little to you but it made my whole day, month, year…

As noted, I’m a fan of baseball. Lately I’ve been spending more time at the local minor league ballpark for the San Jose Giants. They are a single A affiliate of the San Francisco Giants.

Part of what makes minor league baseball so engaging is that the organization tries *really* hard to make it fun for the fans. For the first seven innings of the game, they provide entertainment in the form of contests and games that involve selected fans from the crowd.

They do things like “Putt For Cash” where the contestant tries to putt a golf ball into a kiddie pool. Another where a kid tries to whack a plastic hockey puck into a net that is guarded by an adult in full hockey goalie gear (Shark’s gear, naturally). There’s a rousing game of musical chairs, little kids doing “Dance for your Dinner” (the one that gets the crowd’s approval for their moves get a hot dog and a soda), and racing the mascot, Gigante.

But by far my favorite of all the games is called “Smash for Cash”. A big, old, belching panel truck is brought out onto the field. It sometimes rolls reluctantly. At one game it stalled twice before reaching its destination. Once arrived near the dugout, a blanket is laid under the front. Three San Jose players are recruited to pair with a fan. The player is handed two baseballs that he then hurls at the van in an attempt to smash out the headlights. If he succeeds, he gets $100 (no small change for a guy who makes maybe $6,000 a year) and the fan gets a gift certificate for dinner.

I *love* this game. LOVE IT. Love it most when you hear the distinctive sound of breaking glass, the headlight goes dark and the crowd goes wild.

In order to be chosen as one of the fans to participate, you have to have a scorecard with a printed number. If your number is chosen, you’re in.

I’ve been going to San Jose Giants games for ten years. Every time I go I long to be the one called to my favorite game. I clutch my number close to my chest and hope.

On Sunday, three numbers were put up on the scoreboard for Smash for Cash. None of the three were mine. Ah well, just another day at the yard.

If they don’t get quick response to the numbers, they choose new ones. So a couple innings later, two more numbers were on the scoreboard. This time, one of them was mine.

W00t!

I leapt from my seat, got a kiss from my man, and literally ran to the press box to claim my rightful place in the Smash for Cash contest.

The guy in the press box was announcing the game, scoring the game, and running all the promotions. A very busy, but quite nice guy.

He got my name and then asked, “We’re having trouble getting a third. Do you know anyone else who might want to play?”

Why yes I do, his name is The Good Man.

“Ok, you both are in.”

“Go right now!” I was told.

I vaulted back to the seats, waved over TGM. He followed with a puzzled look and I explained on the run that he was player number three.

We signed waivers (of course we did), were handed two baseballs and quickly enough were led onto the field at the middle of the sixth inning.

My player was Pablo Sandoval, catcher for the SJ team.

As I handed him two baseballs, I told him, “I wanna hear some breaking glass!” He laughed and said, “Aw, don’t tease me.”

This stout catcher can bomb down a runner at second, but he only needs to be “in the vicinity” to get ‘er done. So owing to that, mostly, he was unable to knock out a headlight.

TGM got Juan Ciriaco, shortstop. Juan has a hell of an arm, but not enough precision to smash a headlight.

As soon as it began, it was all over. There were no winners that day.

But there was ONE happy girl bouncing around, thrilled to have finally fulfilled the dream of getting the call to participate in Smash for Cash.

Later in the game, “my guy” Pablo Sandoval took one hell of a hit at the plate while trying to keep a run from scoring. So whatever grumpy feelings I had about not winning a dinner were long gone as he lay on the ground seeing stars. He won me back to his side in a big way.

I’m sure after that hit, he can’t even remember his name, much less the crazy girl with a grin on her face.

Thus is the way of baseball.

Here are a couple really amazing photos from this Flickr stream and this one too. This is a “right in there” view of the agony and ecstasy that is Smash for Cash. Enjoy. Check out the rest of both Flickr streams for views from Muni Stadium.

Addendum:

Oh hell, and can we talk about changes…how about my beloved San Francisco Giants demoting the multi-million dollar Cy Young Award winning pitcher Barry Zito to the bullpen?

I know that there are *certain people* (ahem…*coff*TheGoodMan*coff*) who predicted this when they signed the deal a year ago, but I have to say, it’s still a total shock to me.

And also…in this “rebuilding” year for the Giants, with a mix of old farts and young pups, they are playing with verve, enthusiasm and winning some close games.

What IS going on? My world is topsy turvy!

I am a Taurus for chrissakes! We don’t *do* change!!!!!

Bill, Bill, Bill…..

Is this how it is?

You dropped out of the election and the health routine goes by the wayside?

Remember back in early 2007? You gave up your favored biscochitos? You were exercising? You were lean, mean and full of rowr! You had aspirations?

And then this, from today’s Las Cruces Sun News:

Oh well, I shouldn’t cast stones…I’ve got my own waistline to battle.

Today’s photo is still better than this, tho:

Buy me some peanuts and crack’er jack!

It is well documented that I am a HUGE fan of baseball. I am also a huge San Francisco Giants baseball fan.

Pick up any sports page in the past few years and you will know that my poor Giants have fallen on hard times. The once mighty team is barely a squeak on the baseball radar.

It’s tough. The big boys are off to a rousing 3-6 start. Starting off the season at the bottom of the standings, cellar dwelling has become the standard. That’s where they finished up last year.

I used to go to a lot of games with a good friend of mine. She had season seats up at SBC Park and it was a lot of fun. We have bombed out on CalTrain into the summer night to watch our team plenty of times. Hell, I even wrote a book about it.

A year ago, my friend gave up her season seats at the big club. Health issues and rising seat costs along with baseball depression at the hands of a struggling team forced her decision.

She invested that year in season seats for the Single A affiliate, San Jose Giants. It’s a little cheaper and a lot closer to home.

She is also a “host family” for a player. This is her third year being “mom” to a young player who makes max about $10k a year and needs a rent free place to stay for the season. It makes her happy. She gets to cluck over a twenty something kid, he gets to eat well and they both get to talk baseball with someone who really understands.

This year my friend approached me about her “grand plan” to buy up a whole row of seats in the section she likes at Muni Stadium. It is only five seats, but she began recruiting friends to pitch in on the seats in exchange for access to games. It makes her most happy to go to games surrounded by friends and family. So she did such good a sell job, I wrote her a check.

Tonight The Good Man and I get to go to the game as “season ticket holders” along with my good friend and bunch of other fun folks.

There is a whole different vibe in Single A ball. The players are young and hungry. They play for meal money and not much more. They *want* it. Humility is high. There are audience games between innings. The beers are only $3. Half price when the designated “beer batter” on the opposing team strikes out.

Tonight is the home opener for the San Jose Giants, last year’s California League Champions.

Oh, did I mention they are 5-2 so far?

Yeah. Things are looking good in the minor league.

Photo by Karen Fayeth