Tenure? Rickey's Got 16, 17 Years

August 24, 1988
Yankees 7, A’s 6

Growing up, I spent many a summer week enrolled in different YMCA camps in New York (Camp Pouch, Staten Island) and New Jersey (the Metuchen Y).  A few times each summer, the camp would organize a field trip to a Yankees game.  Our parents would pay for a cheap ticket to a day game, and the camp would bus us to the stadium with the counselors trying to watch over a group of kids in the stands.  Pretty much every time, the seats were way up in the upper deck, in fair territory.  (What a difference 20 years makes–today it seems impossible that there would be that many cheap tickets available to a Yankees game, even if it were a daytime game in the middle of the week).

We weren’t overly rambunctious- most of us would follow the games and cheer for the Yankees.  Our favorite [collective] player would be whichever Yankee would acknowledge us.  When we were seated in the left field stands, we’d scream Rickey Henderson‘s name until he waved.  The other times we went, when we were in right field, we’d try shouting at Dave Winfield. Needless to say, Rickey had much more fans just because he had a better track record of acknowledging the kids.

Anyway, this particular game, on August 24 1988, was during the last week of camp.  Our bus was somewhat late leaving the camp- and our driver actually hopped the median right before the George Washington Bridge to get us to the stadium in time.  Before the long trek up to our seats, our counselors took us to the gift shop.  I used what little money I had on me to buy an ’88 Yankees yearbook.  A friend (whose name has long since escaped my memory) used his to buy a portable radio pre-tuned to the AM station which had the Yankees broadcast rights (this minor purchase will come into play later on).

So us camp kids spent the game screaming for Dave Winfield and going unacknowledged. The game was slow, and Oakland scored the first three runs of the game before the Yankees scored on a Claudell Washington groundout (with Rickey scoring the run after stealing second).  The A’s scored another run and the score remained at 4-1 until the eighth.  

After what looked like a comeback started by two singles, Don Slaught hit a sacrifice tie to bring in one run, but the rally was soon killed.  When the eighth ended, the counselors decided it was time to head home. We filed out of the stadium–my group was the first to arrive at the buses right outside, but we had to wait for a few other groups.  

As we left, the Yankees gave up two runs in the top of the ninth, meaning the score was 6-2 going into the Yankees’ last frame.  

We stood outside the bus, getting updates from my friend who had the foresight to buy that little radio.  Suddenly, the fans smart enough to stay were cheering–a Ken Phelps home run tied up the game and Rickey singled in the winning run. Yet most of the kids of the YMCA Camp Pouch were waiting outside the stadium.  It was a good thing there was only one day of camp left that year, because the counselors who made the decision to leave early made the list.  

Even though this one should probably go under the ‘When I Wasn’t There’ category, it was still a fun game.  And I was there for eight innings of it.

Remedy used to work as a vendor at the Stadium- and every now and then he’d get me a shirt or a cap. One of my favorites was a Henderson t-shirt (Interlocking NY on front, name and number on the back)- and I’d get made fun of whenever I wore it to school. Of course, growing up in New York in the mid 80s, I was one of maybe four kids in my school who was a Yankee fan.  I’m just glad YMCA management didn’t send us to Shea.

*The titular line of this entry comes from one of the many great Rickey stories, some of which are available here.

That's No Pill, It's a Space Station

Last week, when I was sick, I was trying just about anything I could (short of going to the doctor) to get better. Last year sometime, King Classic told me whenever he was sick, he loaded up on the vitamin C.  Since not much else was working, I decided to take his advice.

We were all out of vitamin C tablets at home, so when the Civee and I went to Whole Foods to get some dinner, I went searching.  There were a few bottles that sold for around $20, which claimed their tablets packed between 100% and 200% of the daily reccomended amount of the vitamin.  Not bad, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to pay $20 for a bunch of vitamins.  On the bottom shelf I spotted a larger-than-the-rest bottle selling for only $7 from 365 (the Whole Foods house brand).  I turned it over to check the dose and was blown away…each tablet packed in a whopping 833% of the reccomended daily value of vitamin C.

After wondering whether that was legal, or even safe, I decided to go for it. As surprising as the 833% was, I was in for an even bigger surprise when I got home.  I opened up the bottle, took out the layers of cotton packed therein, got a nice whiff of something resembling orange, and dropped one of the pills into my hand, and found out these pills are supersized.  The pills are absolutely huge (As you can see by the image, one pill is the size of a stack of six dimes).  It’s a good thing the label says ‘chewable’ because I would not have known what to do with these pills otherwise.  And I have to admit, the taste isn’t that bad.  

Anyway, I am feeling better this week–part of which I’m attributing to the ginormous vitamin C pills.  Will I keep taking them? Probably.  The bottle has 100 pills, so for the next three months, I can feel secure in the fact that I’m in no danger whatsoever of getting scurvy.

Broadcasters Need To Eat Too

You can blame the Morning Toast for this one.  

In the comments to yesterday’s post about Yankee Satdium’s final game, tMT said I should start a series about the times I’ve been to Yankee Stadium.  

I don’t mind if I do.  

I wrote a rather lengthy, but somewhat general post about my memories of Yankee Stadium.  While it was a nice look back, there are more to the stories than what I wrote. At least I hope they are.  So in an effort to expand the blog content, I give you the very first post in an ongoing series called When I Was There.

Memorial Day, 1997
Orioles  8, Yankees 6

While my father took my brother and I to Yankees games numerous times growing up, our most prolific attendance came during the ’97 and ’98 seasons, when we had the “Sunday Plan,” which gave us tickets to every Sunday home game, as well as a number of other games throughout the season.  The three of us had a routine every gameday from the time we left our house, to what tollbooth to use on the GWB to what food stand to hit first.

It was a great two-year run for the team, and we had pretty damn good seats- the third row back in the second level in Section 22.  Here’s an attempt at showing you what it was like (keep in mind these two pictures were taken more than ten years ago, and had I known I would’ve needed to make a photo montage, I would have taken better pictures.):

Memorial Day was one of those bonus days we got as part of the plan.  The third-place Yankees were taking on the first-place Orioles, and the game was scheduled to be on ESPN, so there was something in the air that day.

Before the game started, the three of us went to Sausages, Etc., the sausage stand right behind the Yankee offices and stadium pressbox.  While it served as lunch for my brother and my father, for me, it was typically the first of many food stops on any given game day.  We liked to start off at Sausages, Etc., because the lines were usually short and the staff more friendly than other stadium locations.

The line this Memorial Day was actually a bit long.  The three of us were standing behind a short guy in a suit.  I whispered to my father “I think that’s Joe Morgan,” when without skipping a beat, the guy turned around and said “Yes, I’m Joe Morgan–and don’t be afraid to say hello…I don’t know why people never want to talk to me here!” 

Joe was actually pretty gracious. He shook my hand and we talked about the season as the line progressed.  While he placed his order, he turned around and said that of the three sausages he ordered, two were for [broadcast partner] Jon Miller.  Before he headed back to the booth, I got an autograph (which I think my brother is in possession of).  Throughout the whole few minutes, neither my father nor my brother said a word.  When I asked my father why he didn’t say anything, he said simply “I hate Joe Morgan.”  (Of course, this was back before everyone else had the same opinion of Morgan as my father and way before he said Billy Beane shouldn’t have written that book).

The game itself wasn’t that memorable (and I’m probably saying that because the Yankees lost) outside of a Tim Raines triple, Bernie Williams home run and Derek Jeter driving in two with a bases-loaded single.

Last night, when talking with my father about the TV coverage of the Stadium’s final game, my father said he was disappointed that when asked his favorite stadium memory, Morgan didn’t mention his sausage stand run-in with the King, and a silent King Classic and t-shirt boy.

You know what Dad? Me too.

One Final Game

 

Yankee Stadium

I’m sure that at the beginning of this year’s baseball season, most people were fine with the Yankees closing out the season on the road. They’ve made the postseason every year since 1993, and if that streak continued, the stadium’s final game would be in the postseason, not on the first day of fall.

 

Well, it’s safe to say this season has been disappointing and rather than heading off to the postseason, the Yankees will finish the season on the road and the stadium’s last game will be a game of little consequence against Baltimore.

I remember the last time the Yankees didn’t make the playoffs- the Yankees finished out the season against Detroit (at home) and there was an optimistic “wait ’till next year” feeling around the team.  This year, that feeling is still there, but there’s a lot of introspection over not how the team fell short this year, but also about the lifetime of Yankee Stadium.

It’s unfortunate but necessary that the building will be torn down and the Yankees are moving across the street.  While my last time at the Stadium was in aught-two, I’ve been there more times than I can count, and I will miss the stadium.  

The greatness of the stadium isn’t in the building, but what’s happened there.  The stadium bears no resemblance to the original structure, and it started falling apart ten years ago (right in front of my every Sunday seat, no less).  While it has a lot of charm and character, it has little in the way of modern anemities, and can be uncomfortable at times (especially if you’re 6’4″ and trying to watch a game with no leg room).   There’s been a lot of back and forth between the city and the team on who foots the bill, but one thing that both parties have to do is improve the neighborhood around the stadium.  While it’s a big change, the new stadium means a great opportunity for change, not only for the team and its fans, but more importantly, the people who live in the area year-round.

So I’ll be checking out the coverage throughout the day, tune in for the game and I will follow the team for the remaining week or so of the season.  I’m lucky that I have the memories I have of the place.  And hopefully, I can get out to NY next year to check out the new digs.

A Holiday Recipe From King Tom

Ahoy!

In honor of the holiday tomorrow, I figure it’s time to share a recipe.  I made this last week, and it turned out pretty good.  Enjoy, mateys!

Pirate Pork Chops
(because they’re drunk and on a plank).
2-4 bone-in pork chops
1 bottle hard cider (I like Woodchuck Ale)
Marinate pork chops in cider for at least an hour.
1 cedar grilling plank
Soak plank in water for at least 25 minutes before cooking.
rub:
3 tablespoons kosher salt
4 tablespoons brown sugar
2 tablespoons black pepper
2 tablespoons smoked paprika (or pimenton)
1 tablespoon garlic powder
1 tablespoon dried tarragon
1/2 tablespoon cinnamon
Remove the porkchops from cider, pat dry and cover with the rub.
Place plank on grill and place porkchops on the plank.  Cook ten minutes per side.
You can also serve grilled apples (quartered and covered in brown sugar and cinnamon) along with the porkchops. Grill the apples for about 15 minutes. If there’s room on the plank, put them there, if not, they can go on the grill grate.

Report from the Dark Ages

Last weekend, The Civee and I left town to attend a wedding.  When we drove back Sunday, the remnants of a hurricane were sweeping through the area, knocking down whole trees (one of which just missed our car as we were driving down a two-lane quasi-country highway), ripping signs off billboards and inconveniencing people everywhere.  

When we got home, things were fine, but after a few minutes, we lost our cable (which also meant no phone or Internet).  We were lucky not to lose power, because I know a lot of people who did.  But it’s weird going a few days with no internet or not being able to fast forward through commercials.

And believe it or not, I actually had a few things to blog about. Now if only I can remember what they were I might get on a posting roll again.

Those Two Little Words

On a scale of 1-10, my interest in football ranks about a 1.  And my interest in college football is even lower.

Which makes me about one of ten people in Columbus Ohio who does something different every Saturday when the local college team has a game.  For my first few years here, I was indifferent.  I just didn’t care.  But my view has changed.  As I said previously:

I admit that I’m an obnixous Yankees fan. But there are times in Columbus, when listening to people talk about the local college football team that I feel uncomfortable.

I wrote that last October, and I still feel that way.  There are certain things that drive me crazy, one of which is the use of the phrase “go bucks.” People use it to start and end sentences as well as everything in between. It’s used as a salutation and a departing greeting.  But what it really does is drives me crazy and encourages me to commit violence.  If I knew anything about college football, I’d probably have something to throw something back in their faces, but until then I’m left searching for a witty rejoinder as I stew, waiting for the madness to end.

The Grill of My Dreams

 

King Toms Weber Grill

 

As I mentioned last week, the old grill died.  

 

It wasn’t a painful death, just one rendering the old grill useless.  The handle broke off, which, at first, didn’t appear to be a problem. Until I realized that the handle was attached to the ‘shelf’ the grill grate rested on, meaning that unless I wanted to counter-balance the grate with a rock, the grate would remain slanted with one end in the air and the other in the fire.  No way to cook over hot coals.

So The Civee and I bit the bullet and invested in a genuine American Weber charcoal kettle grill (pictured).  And it’s completely revolutionized my grilling experience. 

The ventilation is perfect for cooking over flaming coals, with the air going up through the device, rather than from side-to-side.  Additionally, with a 24-inch diameter cooking surface, there’s plenty of room to do a main course, vegetables, and whatever else I want to throw on there.  And, most importantly, there’s space between the coals and the food (great if I want to throw something, like, say an artichoke down there).

So far in the two or so weeks we’ve had it, we’ve made chicken, pork, potatoes, corn, turkeyburgers, steak, salmon on a plank and porkchops on a plank.  

Cooking on the old grill was always fun, to an extent. But things would get crowded, or the heat would slowly die if I closed the top.  Now, I don’t have to worry, because here’s a grill that was designed to cook with a top on (revolutionary idea).

Now, if only the days weren’t getting shorter and the weather wasn’t getting colder, I’d have some more time to enjoy the new grill.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

Long time no blog.

Not because stuff hasn’t happened, but I just really haven’t felt the desire to blog.

I got a new grill.

Went canoeing with The Civee. 

Watched the Olympics, and parts of two political conventions (and I’m still on a sleep deficit from the Olympics to this day).  And I’m still watching the Yankees, even if they don’t have a chance for the playoffs this year.

But I’m still around.  Hopefully I’ll start blogging again soon.  The new grill is great. Maybe I’ll write about that sometime soon.

Carrying the Torch for Comedy

In case you haven’t been paying attention for the last 16 years, NBC has had broadcast rights to the Olympics (excluding the ’94 and ’94 Winter Games). Cross-promotion is in full effect even in years when there are no Olympics (I’m guessing those are the Olympic rings permanently affixed to the NBC on-air bug).

But during the games, it’s a bit different. Usually, NBC will pick one show (most of the time, a comedy), and run commercials that are actually, not annoying. To wit, the following promo has been running this summer where Michael Scott says what everyone thinks about beach volleyball:

It looks like there are only a handful of The Office Olympic promos, which is a shame, because The Office creative staff can do some pretty funny stuff.

The best set of Olympic promos came out in ’92, when NBC enlisted the cast of Seinfeld to…um, carry the torch.

They’re not on YouTube, but transcripts are available on Usenet (remember that, kiddies). Here are some of the highlights:

Jerry sitting by his computer in his apartment.
Jerry: Do you know the correct pronunciation of Barcelona is actually
       Barthelona?  That’s because, many years ago, the King of Spain
       spoke with a lisp and the members of the court, trying to curry
       favor with the King, adopted his unusual speech pattern.  Absolutely
       true.  Just a piece of Olympic trivia for you.  I’m Jerry Theinfeld.  

Jerry interviewing a gymnast, with the Olympic rings and the NBC logo
in the background.

Jerry:  I’m here with 8 year old Kathy Kwan, star of the gymnastic
        team.  You must be looking forward to the games, Kathy.
Kathy:  Yes, those games are very special to me.  As I will retire
        when they’re over.
Jerry:  Retire?  You’re kidding.
Kathy:  I’m not 6 anymore.  Besides you have to give those
        youngsters a chance to make their mark.  
Jerry:  What are your plans for the future?
Kathy:  I like to spend more time with my parents and watch them
        grow up.

Jerry and George in the Cafe.  
Jerry:     Pass the cream, George.
The guy with the torch runs comes in.
George:    Hey, look.
Torch Guy: Hi, maybe you can help me, I’m lost.  Do either of you know
           the way to Barcelona from here?
Jerry:     Well, I’d take the West Side Highway to the Cross Bronx.
George:    Hold, Hold.  What are you nuts, at this time of the day.  Listen
           to me.  Take the FDR to the Major Deagan.
Jerry:     What are you talking about, the FDR is under construction.
George:    He’s running.

For a script of all the Seinfeld Olympic Promos, visit this page from the alt.tv.seinfeld archive.