Magic Jewball

I couldn’t decide whether to write about the fantastic Crowded House show or the fun weekend in New Jersey with my cousins so I decided to write about last night’s Yankee game instead. And that was before I heard Phil Rizzuto died. Holy cow! But first, some fun moments from the other two.

The opening act for Crowded House was Pete Yorn but before that was Neil Finn’s son, Liam, who is talented but would never be that warmly received had he not been Neil’s son. Like Neil, he talked a lot to the crowd.

Woman from audience: I love you, Neil!
Liam Finn: My name is Liam.
Woman: I love you, Liam!
Liam: I love you too.

And over the weekend, my seventeen year old cousin in her long skirted religious wear has decided she’s a goth because she likes Evanescence.

Me: What are you reading?
She: It’s called “Oh My Goth.”
Me: Seriously? Ha! Are you into that? I’m going to see The Cure next month.
She: Who?

That was the point where I had to be medicated. But I digress. We had a lovely angle last night and here it is, with a view of Chien-Ming Wang, just beginning to suck in the first inning.

But that’s OK! He settled down. But then Ron Villone came out and sucked further. But that was OK too because along came Joba! Go Joba! I didn’t get any pictures of Joba, I think I was too overwhelmed by his awesomeness. Or maybe I was distracted by the altercation in my section where a guy in a Red Sox jersey called for security, I guess because he thought he was being harrassed, thus causing the entire section to turn on him. This is my question, boys and girls, why would you go to Yankee Stadium on a day the Red Sox aren’t even playing and dress yourself in Sox-gear? And he wasn’t the only one. I understand the desire to see other stadiums while you are in a town but why the masochism? Red Sox fans, do Yankee fans do that in Boston? Because it is strange and a little insane.

Of course, along with our fine seats came the fact that we were wedged in in such a way that by the time I was willing to risk going to the bathroom my kidneys had exploded. Which was fine because it precluded me from buying any $9 soda. On the subway home (the IND, as my father would say) I managed to zip in front of the Japanese fans in their matching Matsui jerseys and the nice Baltimore tourists with their O’s t-shirts tucked into their khakis and actually get a seat. Oh my goth did my kidneys appreciate it.

In conclusion, here’s a picture of the Yankees congratulating Bobby Abreu on his home run, disguised as a gratuitous shot of Derek Jeter’s ass.

Title comes from:

Crowded House – Pineapple Head (not available on Napster)