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Hugs, Bud Selig.

My day started far too early for a Saturday with a Little League game, A’s vs. Giants.  Nothing weird about that, right?  Aside from the fact that the Curse of Interleague Play (hugs, Bud Selig) hasn’t come upon us quite yet.  And the fact that I was rooting for the A’s.  It pained me, I tell you.  But I have people who I have to root for on the A’s, so that was that.  I swallowed my fandom and did it.  I still have a few words to say to the coach who got the Giants – words like, “You should have given that team to me! – but it turned out to be a good thing that I was rooting for them A’s, because they had an unprecedented comeback, went into extra innings and walked off.  I sunburned (duh) but otherwise, things were wonderful.

I came home to the disastrous end to the real Giants game.  Aubrey Huff played second base and pigs flew, as did Ryan Theriot, but it was too late.  He’s terribly ill, apparently, and just flew into NY today, but is still not well enough to play.  Since the rest of the Giants bench seems to have been mysteriously transported to a galaxy far, far away/the Hundred Acre Wood/Middle Earth, Huff ended up at second.  Need I really say more?   Moving right along.

 Then Philip I-Am-This-Close-To-Remembering-His-Last-Name pitched the 21st perfect game in the history of MLB (yeah, hugs, Bud Selig) for the Chicago White Sox, against the Seattle Mariners.  That was something and by something I mean absolutely perfect.  Literally.  You know what I mean.

Then Jennifer Hudson went through airport security… oh.  Sorry.  Just surfing the front of the news as I write and there’s a story about Jennifer Hudson and the TSA.  News, y’all.  Can I please blame this on Bud Selig?  No?  He wasn’t involved with the TSA?  You lie.  I am quite positive he was.

Anywho.  Then the Yankees had some sort of a brilliant comeback that I followed on and off while I drank orange juice because we’re having a heatwave over here and there is nothing better to soothe the horribleness of a heatwave than orange juice. 

This is all to say, it has been a strange and busy, but mostly strange, day in baseball.  Flyballs are falling out of my ears and when I try to talk about unrelated things, baseball similes are creeping their way in.  So I think I’m going to cut it off right here and nap and eat spinach pizza for a while.  Catch you all (and Bud Selig) later.

Diamond Girl

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I Had A Ball.

Not like an I-am-Scarlett-O’Hara ball.  Like I went to baseball game and had a great time. Which, now that I think of it, is a ball(game).  No pun was intended.

The baseball game was in Anaheim which seemed like a bit of a dismal place (sorry, Anaheim-ians) but that may have had to do with the fact that I was half-asleep on the way there.

Let’s just say it’s impossible to be half asleep at the actual stadium because there are so many attendants.  Everywhere.  Talking you to.  All the time. 

Our seats were in the second row, second deck which is the deck I’ve never sat in and it was something else.  There was a nice little restaurant overlooking right field which we watched BP from and the waitress told us her name about 50 times in 10 minutes.  It was impressive.

Our section was right next to the suites and walking through the halls I saw carts with these really fancy cupcakes on them, being delivered to the suites.  I was sorely tempted to pilch a few, but I settled for an ice cream sandwich with chocolate chip cookies.  Whose idea was it to freeze chocolate chip cookies?  Because it’s weird.

When it came down to it, I basically rooted for the Angels.  I have Erick Aybar nostalgia from 2009 ALCS and they have a sweet rookie named Alexi Amarista.  Then again, when the Rangers vs. A’s score (A’s won 7-2) popped up in center field, I switched allegiances.  I gotta stand by my beautiful people who inhabit Texas.

This also helped me root for the White Sox.

Bitter.  Very bitter.

May I also say that I have never been to an even semi-warm baseball game and I was so excited for this one?  Well, when I sat down at 7:00 I had a coat and a blanket.  And it just got colder from there.

Really?

I think I bring the cold weather wherever I go.

Overall, I liked the stadium.  The fans were really mellow (read: totally silent) and the giant Angels caps in the front and yes, the fountain are undeniably a lot of fun.

But they could work on the whole scoreboard situation.

That black bar was there for several innings.

And has anyone else noticed that the clouds look exactly the same, no matter what city you’re in or what the weather’s like?  I think it must have something to do with the stadium lights.

So thank you for your hospitality, Anaheim.  You are definitely the preferable stadium in Southern California.

Diamond Girl

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In Which I am Dwarfed by a Buster Posey Poster, on Boycotting Sports Organizations and What Giants Beat Writers Should be Saying

Me and my Buster Posey poster!

Emily with poster.jpg

I won it (it’s limited edition, no less) in a Twitter giveaway from the Fresno Grizzlies, the Giants AAA affiliate.  It was really hard to get a good picture of me with the poster because from a lot of angles it dwarfed me.  In reality, he’s… ahem, a foot taller than me.  He might dwarf me in person too.  As y’all know, I’m not really a huge Posey fan- so this may or may not join my enormous Return of the King poster on my walls- but I have to admit this is a pretty nice lookin’ poster. 

I also learned today that my grandparents, White Sox fans, but longtime Dodger season-ticket holders have decided not to get season tickets for the 2011 season because they’re disgusted with the organization and feel they basically aren’t trying.  It’s essentially what I did during the World Series, switching allegiances because I was unhappy with the organization, although obviously the Giants were winning.  But I’m curious: have any of you ever boycotted a sports organization (literally, by not patronizing them or just by not rooting for them) because you were unhappy with the management?  Comment and let me know. 

Giants fans and writers seem to be going a little crazy waiting for Sabean to make, you know, at least one move and every Bay Area  beat writer wrote their 1,000th “Why We Need Huff and Uribe” article.  Time for a new line.  Like, “Why We Need Ryan Braun”.  Just an example.

Diamond Girl

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Tim Lincecum Gets a Clue, Manny Ramirez Doesn’t

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You can forgive Timmy for his fashion faux-pas, which has lasted about a year and a half.  He’s young and he’s allowed to look semi-atrocious.  But he got a clue, starting on Friday when he decided that a long face (discussed previously here) is not, in fact, complimented by the long pants.  So he joined Zito in the retro-club (and messing up his pitching by thinking too much.  Thank you Barry.  We appreciate your positive influence on our young pitchers.  Actually, we love you anyway.  You’re on the Dreamy Team).  The socks remind me of a carnival, a little bit, but they’re better than their predecessors.  Congratulations, Timmy.

Meanwhile, Mannywood has ended (who is crying, raise your hand?) and he has still not gotten a clue.  The guy is 38 years old and a MLB veteran and he still wears his uni God-knows-how-many-sizes-too-big.

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Whatever.  It’s just Manny Being Manny, right?  ::Diamond Girl bangs head against wall::

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