Thanks to the good graces of my darling Terri and her place of employment, we were able to procure seats in the Loge section of Yankee Stadium, which naturally came with Club passes. Dressed in our finery, we went along with mater and pater to the Club and sat down to a joyous repast of fine meat and fish, a fragrant wine, and good company. The decor was tastefully modern, with the ring of bats being enjoyable, if a hair on the gauche side, and the place -- located deep in the heart of the grand stadium -- refreshingly free of the hoi polloi one normally finds at such stadia. *sniff*
Alas and alack, we had to eventually end our meal due to the proximity of the start time of the night's events, to wit, the contest between the Devil Rays of Tampa Bay, who were visiting our Yankees of New York. And a fine night of baseball it was, save for the (hopefully) aberrant pitching performance of Orlando Hernandez, or, as the proles have come to call him, "El Duque." Hernandez was only able to last two outs into the second inning, having given up eight runs and thrown fifty-four pitches. After the game, he was reported to have had some kind of muscle strain in his back, but he did not inform his coaches. Ah, these fiery Latin types and their machismo!
Our seats were located in the Club section of the Loge, with the upper deck protecting us from the elements (though it was a pleasant spring evening, perfect for the national pasttime). The seats were between home plate and third base, closer to the plate, with a spectacular view of all save the left-field corner. The seats had added padding on both the seats and the backs, and volunteers were kind enough to fetch us comestibles and libations upon request. These seats were one hundred and eighty degrees (literally and metaphorically) from our usual seats in the bleachers.
The final score was 10-7. It is a testament to the fine offense and steady bullpen that the game was 9-0 Tampa Bay at one point, but the home squad was able to show spunk and scrabble back to get seven runs. Sadly, they fell short of the mark. Particularly irksome was Jason Giambi's inability to capitalize on a bases-loaded situation in the fifth frame by striking out on four pitches. I almost choked on my sparkling water, I was so incensed.
Despite the unfortunate result, I found our home team to continue to show the encouraging signs. Young Nicholas Johnson continued to climb out of the slump he had been mired in, going 1-4 with four runs batted in, three of them on a home run. And the bullpen did a fine job of giving our boys a chance to come back, though they did fall short.
However, I would be remiss if I did not express concern about the performance of Sterling Hitchcock. Several expressed joy at his triumphant return, but I hardly call five hits and two walks in a mere four innings against the lowly Devil Rays to be as encouraging as some thought. The ball was hit quite solidly against him, and, though he was able to pitch out of difficult situations, he did not appear to be at his finest.
Our hopes of a ninth-inning rally were dashed on the rocks of woe, as Bernie Williams grounded into a double play to end the contest. We sighed, gathered our things, and retired to our abode to discuss the game over tea and crumpets.
Other stuff:
---Sunday we're back in the bleachers, so the tone of the column will return to normal, for which I'm sure you're all grateful. Terri's office has season tickets for every game in that spot, so the opportunity for a future Loge Lizard Lamentation may well present itself. You have been warned....
---Speaking of the bleachers, it was amusing to see the Tom ritual being performed long-distance. We couldn't make out Tom himself doing his pelvic thrust from over four hundred feet away, but we could see the many fingers pointing at him.
---How 'bout that game last night? Yowza. That was one of those games you always remember experiencing. And talk about your roller coaster rides. In the 13-12 slugfest, the Yanks and Twins combined for 40 hits, 6 home runs (all by the Yankees, and including at least one of each kind of homer), 3 errors, 25 runs, 14 pitchers, 3 wild pitches, 10 walks (4 of them intentional), 26 strikeouts, 7 doubles, and over 500 pitches thrown.
---Hopefully, Giambi's heroics last night will finally shut the boo birds up. After last night, he's at .303/.398/.539, and today he knocked his OBP up above .400, according to John Sterling and Charlie Steiner on the radio. He's second on the team in OPS (OBP + SLG).
---Speaking of Steiner, he just said that Bernie should be the leadoff hitter rather than Alfonso Soriano, who should be batting third or fourth, given that he's leading the team in homers and RBI and given that Bernie's OBP is 60 points higher than Soriano's. "Call me crazy," he said, but I just call him rational. Not that either guy is doing bad where they are right present, of course....
---Speaking of OPS, the person Giambi is behind on OPS on the team is Jorge Posada, who, at a horse-choking 1.028, is third in the league behind only Manny Ramirez (1.169) and Alex Rodriguez (1.037). Not too shabby. (Of course, they're all looking waaaaaaaaaaaaaay up at Barry Bonds, who's at an inhuman 1.460, due mainly to a frankly ludicrous .603 OBP.)
---As of this weekend, Bob Sheppard is back in the booth doing the PA announcing at Yankee Stadium, after being laid up for three weeks with the shingles. It just isn't the same without those dulcet tones emanating from the speakers, and it's good to have him back. I remember in 1998, Tony Gwynn saying that it was one of the thrills of his career (which was not short on such things) to hear Sheppard announce his name during the World Series. Welcome back, Bob!
NEXT: Switching Soriano, and Other Musings

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