It takes a little trying to understand baseball lingo. Amiss: not being in a accordance with right order; faulty, imperfect; out of place in given circumstances-usually used with a negative. But I know what they mean.
I’m a pretty big Phillies fan. I’ve watched nearly every game for the last couple of years. That’s a big deal for me, considering I rarely watch TV. A Phillies game or Turner Classic Movie Channel. That’s about it.
There are a few things that bother me about baseball, though. One thing is definitely the wad of crap in Ibanez’s mouth every time he’s up to bat. Tell me, what does his face really look like? And obviously, we could all do without the crotch adjustments and the spitting. And Charlie Manuel is a great manager, but I’m a little tired of seeing the big wad of pink chewing gum being thrust around in his mouth as he intensely monitors the Phils.
I can’t believe the cost of tickets. My Dad looked into taking us three kids, our spouses, and his three grandkids to a game, and the price tag would have been well over $500. So much for a nice family outing to a live baseball game, like we did when I was little. I still remember getting a big hug from the Phillie Phanatic, and rooting for Mike Schmidt and Pete Rose over the years.
Instead, some of us went to see the Iron Pigs, which was fun. Let’s hear it for Hoooooover! We’ll watch the Phillies on TV, thank you very much.
TV lets you see when the umps are wrong. Another thing that bothers me about baseball is the lack of use of replays to correct a bad call. If a call’s not a sure thing, let’s watch the replay and get the call right! What is there to lose? Let’s be honest here, sometimes an ump blinks at a critical moment or his view is obscured. That’s okay, but let’s get the call right, okay?
One of my friends had an interesting story about one of the Phillies last year. The story involved a beautiful female friend of my friend. The Phillie and the friend shall remain nameless, in case the story isn’t true and also in case it is. The beautiful friend met this Phillie at a bar in a hotel where he was staying. They flirted a bit and on his way out he slipped her a little piece of paper that had his hotel room number and a time written on it. When she showed up at his hotel room later that night at the time he’d written, for what she presumed would be a date, he yelled that the door was open. In she went to find him practicing his swing, naked. Later, in bed, he kept saying to her, “Who’s your favorite Phillie?” “Who’s your favorite Phillie?”
Nevertheless, the commitment of the team and the fans, through ups, downs, rain, injuries, and all sorts of pressure, is amazing to me. And it’s amazing to me that I find myself jumping and yelling with delight when the Phillies score!
Speaking of favorite Phillies, my Mom refers to Jason Werth as “the guy who looks like the caveman on the Geico commercials,” but to me, Jason Werth is the Gene Kelly of baseball. When I watch him slide and glide onto a base, it’s like a moment that should be captured in a classic movie. Perfect timing and perfect poise. And believe me, I’m a huge fan of Gene Kelly.