so. so far this year i've been able to witness three kinds of games: the bad kind of blowout, a nailbiter, and the good kind of blowout.

- no sooner do we park and get through the gates do we hear sterling call rocco baldelli's 2 run home run:
me: "bad lieber today?"
my eternally optimistic brother: "there is only one lieber. and the good one was about three years ago with the cubs."
thankfully, my brother was very wrong.

- jeter fangirl squeals are quite possibly the worst aspect of yankee fandom:
me: i can't listen to this. the boyfriend has to explain the scoreboard to her! she's squealing. SQUEALING.
my brother: OH MY GOD! IT'S DEREK! I CAN SEE HIS BULGE FROM HERE!

and lo, you could very nearly hear them straining to see if that was true.

- arod coming alive? maybe. i've hoped it so much already, so many times, and i don't want to be crushed. speaking of crushed, har har har: my man broke for home ("WHY IS HE GOING ON BALDELLI! WHY?!") , went barrelling into brook fordyce, and laid him out cold:
me: "am i watching football?"
my brother [and even he, a fairly big guy, was cringing]: "that's like me running full speed into you."

- i got up to call june, who was also in the hizzouse, during the 7th inning stretch and wound up missing half the crazy run fest. i'm starting to think it's because i'm not watching that this stuff happens.
me, hearing all the racket in the background: "WHAT'S GOING ON WHAT AM I MISSING!"
june: "THE MERRY GO ROUND STARTED!"

- i made everyone stay put, hoping to see steve karsay pitch. and pitch he did: a perfect ninth, an inning made even fuller of warm fuzzies by geting to witness the major league debut of one dioner "tradebait" navarro.