de minimis minutiae

opening day 2004. dodger stadium.

"Hard work never killed anyone, but why take the chance?" 
~Edgar Bergen

greeting me at the gate:  dave roberts - i shook his hand!




and i told him:  "go bruins!"


picturesque in chavez ravine: fireworks smoke and doves.


today's starter:  hideo nomo


who got tagged for 7 earned runs...


in lala land, even the peanut vendor is a celebrity. 
his shtick is to run down the aisles and yell like a madman: 
"nuts!  nuts!  nuts!  nuts!  nuts!  nuts!  nuts!  nuts!  nuts!"


the stretch.  dig that lady's flaming visor.


so ends my day.  a view of the l.a. skyline from the stadium parking lot.

mind-numbing baseball banality

back from catching a couple spring training games with s down in arizona (padres-angels & angels-a's). 

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springtime 'ball.  a big picnic, with heroes, veterans and newcomers, close-like and friendly.  polite and knowing chatter with fans who've trekked from harsher climes.  we enjoyed the company of the 81-year-old lady from connecticut.  she was there to "see her boys,"  especially, little 4'10" eckstein, whom she'd admired since his double-a days.

this, the antidote.  relief from worldliness.  the only thing that tempers my mile-a-minute sweetie. 

that should tide me over until april. 

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Bartolo Colon on the hill

if i were a sportscaster on espn, my catchphrase for this guy's highlights would be "Tutta Siviglia conosce Bartolo!"

Jeff DaVanon at bat

i like this guy.  he reminds me of old time baseball.  he would have fit in perfectly with the '55 bums (the dodgers are actually my team, but given the fact i live a few minutes from angel stadium, coupled with the recent success of the Angels, and their new fan-friendly ownership, it's hard not to like the guys in red).

S has even spoken of purchasing season tickets.  holy cow.

get thee hence, april.

dude, kirk gibson was 15 1/2 years ago...

in an endeavor to be a more fair and balanced blog, i include this, yang to the yin of my overly romaticized (mayhaps) view of my favorite sports team.

*please make me stop*

hotties and boobies

to all good-looking cops, whatcha gonna do?  you may want to ugly it up a little.  your hottie-ness may give rise to entrapment.

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janet fallout *tee-hee*

c'mon people.

beloved

that warm september evening, dad took me to the game. my first.

a child from los feliz, i'd never seen so green a field such as what i first took in that night. stunning. beautiful.

we hiked the heights of chavez ravine to find our seats. the woman there, sensing my tentativeness assured me, "Don't worry, honey. I won't bite." she kept score and listened to the Vin on a small portable. "What a funny thing to say," I thought.

everything had its novelty this night.

so high up were we that, the crack, came one full second after seeing the actual contact, or so it seemed. baseball physics for youngsters.

and it was glorious. a three-run jack by mr. clean extended his streak to fifteen, en route to another blue victory. dad scored me a pennant, which hung on my wall for years.

i still see ghosts. da bums from flatbush, the wrecking crew at elysian.

dad.

my love began thus.