Monday, September 19, 2005

I Date Nick Swisher's Girlfriend

Nick Swisher tries to lure County Mouse away by displaying his genitalia.

Sunday proved that I have the power to curse sports teams by my mere presence. An early start by Country Mouse, her mom and mom's S.O. Les, and myself to get down from Maine to Fenway for the 2.05pm start of the 2005 Red Sox pilgrimage. Great seats (right field box 1A, Row H- just along from the Pesky Pole), the woman who sang the national anthem a couple of rows away (proving again how good the seats were for face value sc****d tickets- they'd never stick her in a crap spot, would they?), a nun in full regalia plus Sox hat two rows to my left, and Trot "Pigpen" Nixon scratching his balls and looking bored mere yards away at the top of every inning.

Despite my attempt to make nice with pitcher Matt Clement earlier in the week, the Sox stank it up big time, with the Athletics caning him for 7 in 1 1/3 innings and the fabled bats of beantown failing to come alive to make the game interesting, let alone competitive. In short order Clement, Ramirez, Damon, Ortiz, Mueller, and Varitek found more fun things to do with their Sunday (like spitting sunflower seed shells at their cleats in the dugout) while Francona essentially said "screw this" and let the kids out to play. Other than Kevin "Downs" Youkilis screwing up his finger in the seventh, the young 'uns and recent arrivals from Pawtucket held their own. By the time the game ended, Francona had substituted six of his eight position players (including third base twice, with the injury to Youkilis) which on the bright side meant that we in the traveling rubes section got to see lots of players for our money (we don't get to Boston often- nowhere to park our sled dogs). All things being equal however, the only event to draw a big cheer was the Toronto 6 Yankees 5 final going up on the monster.

With the game going to hell in a handbasket and my between-innings search for Kevin Millar and Gabe Kapler themed souvenirs proving fruitless I was left to enjoying the crowd. Among the highlights were the dad who obviously hated his 6 year old son ("No! That's not how you eat a hot dog!") seated just behind me; the grandmother two seats along who called the game to herself for the full nine; and the drunk heckler guys a row back.

Everytime Nixon came out to stand post in right they begged him for Manny's autograph and had a Statler and Waldorf conversation with themselves about whether Nixon ever spoke to fans or just to God. The saved their real bile however for Athletics' right fielder Nick Swisher.

"Swishaah! Jose Canseco called buddy, he waaaants his numbaaah baack!" was their opening gambit and they hardly let up all game. Having been forged in the crucible of the standing section of an English football stadium, it didn't bother me; it wasn't Dennis Leary quality insulting, but it was mildly amusing for the most part. Country Mouse however wasn't impressed- not for prudish reasons but rather because the heckling was so lame. Midway through the fourth, as Waldorf was explaining that Swisher's mother had no gag reflex, CM whipped around and told him to can it.

Being the oblivious soul that I am, I thought it was the crazy old lady who was telling them off and continued to believe that until the seventh until CM said "Hah! They are talking about me."

"What?" Sayeth I, engrossed by the plague of flying ants that had emerged from the floodlights above.

"Those Massholes who have been yelling all game- one of them went to yell something and decided against it, saying 'Swisher's girfriend will get mad'" CM explained.

I have found this inexplicably hilarious ever since, and thus have been calling CM 'Swisher's girlfriend' at every opportunity. Not since that guy called Listmaker "Hanley Ramirez's prom date" and Youthlarge "Craig Hansen's swim buddy" at the Sea Dogs game earlier this summer have I giggled as much in a ballpark. And of course I am making the last part up. Being Maine, nobody spoke to us at the Sea Dogs game, even to insult us.


Listmaker said...

for a second, i believed that last part and i was upset that i had forgotten about it.

i've got to get back to boston for a game - haven't been to one since 2002.

Jim said...

Glad you had a good time in Beantown. I enjoy getting down to "the Hub" from time to time, although it's been awhile since I've done the obligatory Sox game--the last time was Patriots Day, 2002 (?) and the drunken louts I was with took most of the fun out of the day-then, the brand new Suburban they had rented wouldn't start-we got a jump start after 2 hours of waiting from some kid from Northeastern, who happened to be from Maine, driving this absolutely beat-to-crap Suburban that was about 20 years old.

Personally, I've never understood the need to insult professional athletes. Granted, they are overpaid entertainers and the steroid allegations haven't helped their cause, but some of these guys are absolutely amazing.

As little as I care about ML baseball at this point in the summer, I'm hoping for a Red Sox W'Series appearance for entirely selfish reasons--it will keep baseball on the front pages and I might possibly squeeze out a few additional book sales.

Actually, I've taken to checking again for the first time in over a year because a former Wheaton College player (the school where my son attends college and plays baseball) had a player drafted by the Reds and he's been a September callup for them. He hit his first major league home run 10 days ago and made ESPN for a catch he made. Right now, he's the talk of campus and one of those feel good stories that I'm a sucker for.

I must say, I laughed at C'Mouse being called "Nick Swisher's g'friend".