Yanks Beat Rays While I Stuff My Face
When I left the house to meet my friends for dinner, the Yankees were up 3-0 over the Rays in the bottom of the fifth. Despite his rising pitch count, AJ looked downright nasty and I was feeling pretty optimistic about his outing.
I was driving to the restaurant listening to the audio of the game when Cano and Swisher went back to back in the sixth to make it 5-0. I was so excited I nearly did this.
But I kept it together and continued on to the restaurant, a cute Mexican place in Montecito.
I was dying to monitor the score, but I didn’t want to be rude to my friends, neither of whom was hanging on the fate of the Yankees. So we sat there eating our chimichangas or enchiladas or whatever the hell they were. (Bottom line: they came with rice and beans and had cheese and guacamole on them.)
I ate mine really fast, so I could get home and find out what happened. After I pulled in my driveway, I raced in the door and asked Michael, “So? Did we win?”
He can be really annoying the way he withholds information. Typical male. I tried again. “DID WE WIN?” I should add that I strangled him as I asked the question this time.
“Yes, we did, OK?” he said after coughing for five straight minutes. “The score was 11-4.”
“A blowout? Are you kidding me?”
“We had four homers.”
“Wow. I thought Yankee Stadium was the home run palace. We went deep four times at the Troperoo?”
“Watch the replay and see for yourself.”
Which is exactly what I did. And yeah, the homers were sweet. I cheered as Swisher hit his second of the night, remembering when we were on the wrong side of a blowout at the Trop and he was called upon to pitch. Nice reversal of fortune.
And Damon. Congrats to him on #200.
There were so many other great offensive moments:
* A-Rod’s two-run double (happy birthday).
* Matsui’s sprint all the way home from first.
* Cano’s triple.
* Jeter’s three hits.
Come to think of it, didn’t everybody in the lineup have a hit?
But the star of the game had to be AJ. Two hits and one run over seven innings? That’s just sick.
He’s the guy I used to dread facing when he was with the Blue Jays. When people talk about pitchers having “live stuff,” I know what they mean when I watch him throw the ball.
I do wonder why Girardi didn’t use Melancon in relief. The kid hasn’t pitched in weeks. If you don’t use him in blowouts, why not send him back to Scranton?
But I quibble. It’s very satisfying to beat the reigning AL Champions. I realize it’s only one game and we’ll be back at it on Tuesday night. But I’m glad I wolfed down my dinner so I could get home and see….
Oh, no. I’m not glad. I’m having chimichanga kickback right now – that “burning sensation.”
I asked Michael if we had anything I could take for it. He handed me this.
I chimichugged it right down.
The Fire, The Yankees And A New Magic Pen
Friday started off on a terrifying note. At the 8 a.m. news conference, local officials warned that the wildfire had spread on the “eastern flank” into Montecito, the community where I live, and that my house was now in a borderline evacuation area. They also announced that the situation had worsened overnight, due to the gale force winds.
I went online and looked at photos from the Santa Barbara Independent and News Press, and had to remind myself that this was real life, not a disaster movie.
I mean, seriously. How about this ash storm?
And these structures burning?
And these incredible firefighters who kept working in spite of the heat, the danger and the exhaustion?
“What should we do?” I asked my neighbor after hearing the fire chief make dire predictions for later in the day.
“Start packing,” she said.
I couldn’t. Not right away. Instead, I remained in denial and blogged. And read other blogs. And did my weekly phone-in segment on “The Natural,” Greg Marotta’s radio show on WVNJ in New Jersey. Before I knew it, it was 4 o’clock and time for Yankees-Orioles.
“I can’t pack yet,” I told my husband Michael. “This is A-Rod’s first game. I’m not missing any of it.”
It’s a good thing I didn’t miss the beginning or I would have missed this.
First pitch from Guthrie. Three-run dinger. Welcome back, Al.
Were things looking up for the Yankees? Or would CC pitch a gem, only to have the bullpen blow it?
He pitched a gem all right – a complete game 4-0 domination of the Orioles. He had everything working, including his new catcher. Who knew Cervelli could call a game, block pitches and get a hit?
Credit goes to CC and A-Rod for their performances tonight. But there was another huge factor that should be acknowledged: my new Magic Pen. Actually, it’s Michael’s pen.
While I was running around throwing stuff into suitcases and shopping bags, he was keeping score with a black Bic – and the Yankees won. So now the Bic must keep the streak alive. Long live the Bic!
After the game, we watched the evening press conference with fire officials, who reiterated how serious the situation in Montecito would be if the winds kicked up again.
“Be prepared to get in your car and leave,” said the Chief.
Michael and I finished packing, putting our important documents and other essentials (my signed Mickey Mantle baseball, for example) into our Ready Freddies, the knapsacks we bought when we moved to California. Everyone said we needed them in case of earthquakes. Nobody ever mentioned wildfires.
With our preparations in place, all we could do was wait. And wait.
But there was no wind. None at all. No banging. No trees falling. No power outage.
I went outside to look.
It was scary but sort of beautiful too.
As of now, we’re still here. And while we’re not totally out of the woods, I feel hopeful for the first time in days.
There’s a DC-10 Flying Over My Head
This was pretty much the view outside my window last night. It would be kind of scenic except that my “posh celebrity enclave,” as the New York Post calls it, was burning.
Yes, it’s true that we have famous people living here.
O’s house hasn’t been damaged so far and she’s not here anyway. She’s probably in Chicago with the other O.
Rob Lowe wasn’t home either.
Haven’t heard about Jeff Bridges’ house.
As for me, the least known person in all of Montecito, I didn’t evacuate because the winds shifted and spared my house. This morning at the press conference, the local officials announced that we were getting military-type fire tankers to drop water on the nearly 3,000 acres and hundreds of structures that are burning. I can hear one of the planes right now. Rrrrrrrmmmm. (It doesn’t sound like that, but I’m totally sleep deprived.)
Ahnold, our Governator, has been going around comforting people, although he hasn’t comforted me or even attempted to hug me.
I’m waiting to see what happens later today, when the winds are supposed to pick up again, before deciding whether to grab my Yankees T-shirts, caps and bobble head dolls and get out of town. The question is…Where to go?
Do you think A-Rod has a spare room in his Manhattan apartment?
Or maybe I could camp out in some empty office at Steinbrenner Field in Tampa?
Or I could check into one of these.
No, wait! Thanks to the miraculous trade that happened yesterday, I have another option! I could stay with our newest Yankee, who looks thrilled by the idea!
So what if he’s a .219 hitter who’s not even close to being the Gold Glove first baseman I had hoped for. If he’s got a sofa, a TV and a well-stocked wine cellar (and maid service), I’m there.
More on Mr. Swisher when I’m not dodging flames.