Friday, July 08, 2005

Don't Throw It to Stonehands

Interacting with the fans is one of my favorite things about going to the ballpark: striking up random conversations, getting into it with opposing fans, throwing out high fives to the family of five or the local youths sitting next to me, the possibility of seeing a Rally Tit. You know, shit like that.

My absolute favorite part, though, is when someone in the seats makes a diving catch or drops an easy foul ball, a can of corn in the stands. In the case of the dropper, the entire stadium -- well, those paying attention at least -- usually boos that fan mercilessly and jeers the lack of concentration on his or her part. It's not only great fun and a great sight, but it keeps everyone on their toes.

Enter Robert Marchese, a 41-year-old Yankees fan from Frushing, Queens. If you watched the game last night, you know who this guy is (I try not to watch SportsCenter anymore, but I bet they did a number on this guy as well). Last night Marchese dropped not one, but two homerun balls hit directly at him in the right-field stands. First, A-Rod's homer hit off his wrist, then Giambi's in the next inning ricocheted off his fingertips. That's inappropriate, that's inexcusable.

"'The first one, I was zoned in,' Marchese said while talking to friends on his cell phone. 'I had it locked. But the speed was faster than I thought. It hit me right on the wrist,' he said, showing his bruise," Newsday reported.

Hey, I've never caught a foul ball and never really had an opportunity to do so. In the hundreds of games I've been to, I've never been all that close to one. But even without a personal frame of reference, this guy's on the No Gouda List. Someone get me Arnold Diaz on the line: Shame on you, Marchese.

Slack Invite of the Day: In honor of the engagement of Donnie Fiedler and Irene Palazzo, Bart Starbux and I implore you all to come on out to Brooklyn's finest bar, Floyd (directions in the link). Play some indoor bocce, drink some cheap bar, shake some sneezy hands, meet some new peeps...it's gonna be a good time. See you there, jerks.

Slack Song of the Day: It's a rainy Friday in New York City, where they make the non-Pace Picante, so let's throw a whole show out there for you to gobble down. So here's some Van Morrison from 9/9/1971, and let me tell you, this thing is awesome. Just take the 68 minutes and listen to this...do it.

5 Comments:

At 11:25 AM, Anonymous John Howard said...

I haven't been to many major league games, but the first time I ever went to a minor league game, I got a foul ball.

I was talking to the person next to me, and I looked up to see the ball coming right at me. I just had time to move out of the way as it slammed into the seat where I was. I was able to recover just quickly enough to grab it before it rolled down to the next row. I'm glad I looked up, that thing would have hit me right in the chest, and judging by how hard it hit the seat, it would have hurt, a lot. Despite that, I like to think if I was in the outfield somewhere and had a chance to see one coming at me, I would be able to catch it.

 
At 11:27 AM, Blogger PaulNoonan said...

Congrats again to Don. If I can get off work early, get some cheap airfare, and find my way around NYC, I'll buy you a few rounds. Plus I could go for some Bacci.

I've caught two foul items. The first was a hard foul by Damon Buford, who was filling in for Sammy Sosa in right field. We have to go all the way back to the year 2000 for that, as it happened at old Milwaukee County Stadium. I snagged it barehanded and received a polite ovation.

I also caught a puck at a Badger hockey game that we ended up winning 5-4 on a breakaway goal by Rene Bourque with under a minute to go. I had front row seats in the second deck directly behind the Wisconsin Goal (in the second period) and some forward on the other team took a hard slapper that was deflected by a Wisconsin defenseman directly at my wife's face. I snagged it out of mid-air, no bobbles, glove save style. I was even on TV. I was saluted by the student section as such:

"Better Goalie (CLap, Clap, ClapClapClap)." Repeat.

The next year they put up nets in back of both goals so this feat can never be repeated.

 
At 11:46 AM, Blogger Ace Cowboy said...

Nice guys...good hands, good minds, good hearts. Join hands and hearts and voice, voices, hearts and hands.

There was a kid from my high school that got nailed in the face with a puck at the Islander game. That was a gruesome image. Gotta have quicker reaction time, buddy...gotta be like Noonan.

And if TJ in OH weren't such a busy focker, he'd tell you about the time he got nailed in the calf at the Scranton-Wilkes Barres Red Barons game. Hilarious.

 
At 12:58 PM, Anonymous John Howard said...

Join hands and hearts and voice, voices, hearts and hands.

What the hell is that from? This is going to bother me all day.

 
At 1:09 PM, Blogger Ace Cowboy said...

Dirty Dancing...

 

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