On the eve of yet another season, I decided to write a few things about baseball. Here are a few baseball-related top fives.
My five favorite MLB games I personally attended:
1) Astros-Dodgers, 1988. My first ever MLB game, which happened to be at Dodger Stadium. Fernando Valenzuela got rocked that day, but the Dodgers went on to win the World Series that season.
2) Expos-Cubs, 1998. My high school graduation gift was a trip to Chicago with my parents to see a Cubs series. This was my first Wrigley Field experience. Once you go to Wrigley, everything else pales in comparison.
3) Cardinals-Braves, 1993. We always went to one game a year in Atlanta when we visited my grandparents, and this season we just so happened to pick the so-called "fire game," when a luxury suite at Fulton County Stadium caught on fire and the game was delayed a few hours. The Braves made a frantic late-season comeback to make the playoffs that season, thanks in large part to a trade for slugger Fred McGriff. The "fire game" was McGriff's first game as a Brave, and with the crowd already buzzing because of the trade, the fire, and the pennant race, the Crime Dog hit a grand slam to propel the home team to victory.
4) Cubs-Cardinals, 1999. I went to St. Louis with dad during the height of the steroid era. But we didn't know about the 'roids, so the Mark McGwire-Sammy Sosa duel was still somewhat pure. We attended a 3-game series, and Big Mac and Slammin Sammy hit three homers each.
5) Pirates-Cubs, 2002. I went on a baseball road trip with my best friends Chad and Kevin to celebrate our college graduation, but unfortunately I was afflicted with mono and was pretty sick the whole trip (I didn't know it was mono at the time). We got to Wrigley early to get front-row bleacher seats, and I snagged two balls in batting practice. Sammy Sosa hit a three-run homer late in the second game of the doubleheader to propel the Cubs to victory.
I had to leave out some great games to make this list.
My 5 favorite baseball movies:
1) Field of Dreams -- I cry at the end every single time
2) Major League -- Charlie Sheen wins
3) Eight Men Out -- I wrote a 25-page paper on the 1919 Black Sox in college.
4) A League of Their Own -- "There's no crying in baseball!"
5) The Sandlot -- "You're killing me, Smalls!"
Yes, I know everyone else likes Bull Durham. I just thought it was OK.
My 5 favorite MLB broadcasters/commentators
1) Steve Stone -- Still mad at the Cubs for getting rid of him. He's the freaking man.
2) Vin Scully -- A living legend.
3) Harold Reynolds -- He did something stupid and got canned from ESPN, but he's still bringin' it on MLB Network.
4) Dan Shulman -- The best play-by-play guy in the business today. I liked Jon Miller, but ESPN decided to dump him and Joe Morgan in favor of a team led by Shulman. Joe Morgan is an idiot, so I'm all for any change that eliminates him from the airwaves.
5) Harry Caray and Ron Santo -- Even though it's not journalistically proper, they were essentially fans on the air, voicing their joy and pain on every Cubs game. They were a big reason I became a Cubs fan. RIP boys.
My 5 favorite Opening Day Traditions:
1) I usually watch "Field of Dreams" on or around Opening Day, though I don't believe I've been able to since Addison was born.
2) Grilling hot dogs, polish sausage, etc. during the games
3) Sunflower seeds.
4) Watching all the Opening Day games, even games I don't care about in the least any other day of the year.
5) Watching every pitch of the Cubs game, then realizing how bad they will be so I don't have to watch any more the rest of the year.
Five miscellaneous baseball-related items
1) Baseball video games -- Good times, good times. There's the old-school Nintendo games (RBI takes the cake) and the ridiculously realistic new ones. Just a couple weeks ago, I was playing MLB The Show with Scott. Game tied, bottom of the ninth, me in the field, Scott with runners on first and third. He does a double steal, and while his runner is about to walk right into a tag at the plate, my catcher throws down to second base and lets the winning run score. Arghhh!!!
2) Little League baseball -- Apparently, I ran to third the first time I actually hit a baseball into play. And who didn't love getting "suicides" and Fun Dips after every game?
3) Sneaking into better seats at MLB games -- I once got into the players' wives section right behind the plate at the Ballpark in Arlington. A good view indeed.
4) College baseball -- More ping, less bling. In high school, we'd often go to the OU games after school. We'd sit right behind the dugout and harass the umps and opposing teams. Real mature.
5) Jamey Wright -- Every season, I think he'll surely be out of the big leagues, but he always finds a home. In fact, he's had a lot of homes (Colorado, Milwaukee, St. Louis, Kansas City, Colorado again, San Francisco, Texas, Kansas City again, Cleveland, and Seattle) and his career record is less than spectacular (career record of 83-118, ERA of 5.00 in 15 major league seasons). But he's a fellow graduate of Westmoore High School, and he gave my mom and I tickets to see the Rockies and Cubs at Wrigley Field one year, which he certainly didn't have to do. He's had a great spring in the Mariners camp and looks like he'll be in Seattle this season. Best of luck to him.
Feel free to post your own top fives or comment on mine. Merry Opening Day!
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
The Lucky Zone
Tomorrow I leave to go to Southern California for a week to play poker and hopefully make some money.
As I'm packing for the trip, I was reminded of a similar poker trip that didn't go so well.
This was back when we lived in Lawton. A couple of guys I played with had received a free room at the Palazzo on the Vegas strip, and there was a special airfare deal for $125 round-trip from OKC to Vegas. (Non-stop flights too. Good luck finding that these days).
These guys were both middle-aged family men, and they planned to play a lot of tournaments while I prefer the cash games. So I figured we'd sleep in the same room but otherwise wouldn't see each other a lot.
The trip started with them picking me up at home around 6 a.m. to drive to OKC for the flight. We stopped at a gas station in town, and it was there that I discovered that one of my weekend companions, who I'll call "James", was an abject racist. He made several inappropriate comments about the clientele of the convenience store and how he generally refuses to go there for that reason.
Okie dokie, then.
I didn't say a word to him all the way to Vegas. When we got there, I decided to play the first tournament that these guys were entering. It had already been running about half an hour but you were allowed to register late and they immediately gave me a seat.
I folded about 5 hands before picking up pocket aces. Before it was my turn, two people had gone all-in ahead of me! I was excited to call and see that I was up against K-J and A-Q. I have an 81 percent chance to win this hand and build a huge stack immediately. Instead, the A-Q finds a way to win and knock me out of the tournament. So I've been in the Venetian less than 15 minutes and am already down $350.
I walked over to Caesar's Palace (no short stroll) and got in a cash game there. I'll spare the details, but needless to say it was not a pleasant experience. Keep in mind, this is back when I still worked full-time at the paper. I was doing well at poker but I had a much smaller budget for it than I do now. I wasn't losing money I couldn't afford but I still felt like crap for being 2,000 miles away from Missy and dropping a fairly significant amount of money.
So I moped all the way back to the Palazzo and decided to call it a day and go to bed early. When I got back to the room, I walked in to find that my new racist friend "James" liked to sleep in the nude. Awesome.
I grabbed a pillow and slept on the sectional sofa in the other part of the room, but the sections kept slowly drifting apart like glaciers, and I would slump in the middle. Still, I never even considered going back to the naked racist. No need to discover three new things about him in one day.
The second day of our three-day trip went about like the first. Poker took a dump on me, and life wasn't much better. I remember getting ripped off at Chipotle for about $2 and being too depressed to even say anything to the cashier.
I decided I had lost enough for one weekend, which meant I was stuck in Vegas for another 36 hours with money to eat on but nothing else.
The other guy who went with us played craps and blackjack a decent amount, and he was pretty cool to me when he found out I was busto. I went to a craps table with him and he told me to roll for him. I threw the dice way up in the air because, as everyone knows, the "lucky zone" in craps is 8 to 9 feet above the table. There's no telling where the dice will end up when you throw them that high, but you're guaranteed to win.
I won several throws in a row, and soon the whole table was excited. Some had been skeptics of the "lucky zone," but now they saw it with their own eyes.
Unfortunately, casino management was not a huge fan of the "lucky zone," especially since the dice bounce all the way off the table about one in three times. They don't really like that. I won about six games in a row, but when I finally lost I was politely asked to leave the table.
That was a fun way to pass the time, but I couldn't get back to Oklahoma fast enough.
Now, I can only hope that the week I spend in California goes a little better than that.
As I'm packing for the trip, I was reminded of a similar poker trip that didn't go so well.
This was back when we lived in Lawton. A couple of guys I played with had received a free room at the Palazzo on the Vegas strip, and there was a special airfare deal for $125 round-trip from OKC to Vegas. (Non-stop flights too. Good luck finding that these days).
These guys were both middle-aged family men, and they planned to play a lot of tournaments while I prefer the cash games. So I figured we'd sleep in the same room but otherwise wouldn't see each other a lot.
The trip started with them picking me up at home around 6 a.m. to drive to OKC for the flight. We stopped at a gas station in town, and it was there that I discovered that one of my weekend companions, who I'll call "James", was an abject racist. He made several inappropriate comments about the clientele of the convenience store and how he generally refuses to go there for that reason.
Okie dokie, then.
I didn't say a word to him all the way to Vegas. When we got there, I decided to play the first tournament that these guys were entering. It had already been running about half an hour but you were allowed to register late and they immediately gave me a seat.
I folded about 5 hands before picking up pocket aces. Before it was my turn, two people had gone all-in ahead of me! I was excited to call and see that I was up against K-J and A-Q. I have an 81 percent chance to win this hand and build a huge stack immediately. Instead, the A-Q finds a way to win and knock me out of the tournament. So I've been in the Venetian less than 15 minutes and am already down $350.
I walked over to Caesar's Palace (no short stroll) and got in a cash game there. I'll spare the details, but needless to say it was not a pleasant experience. Keep in mind, this is back when I still worked full-time at the paper. I was doing well at poker but I had a much smaller budget for it than I do now. I wasn't losing money I couldn't afford but I still felt like crap for being 2,000 miles away from Missy and dropping a fairly significant amount of money.
So I moped all the way back to the Palazzo and decided to call it a day and go to bed early. When I got back to the room, I walked in to find that my new racist friend "James" liked to sleep in the nude. Awesome.
I grabbed a pillow and slept on the sectional sofa in the other part of the room, but the sections kept slowly drifting apart like glaciers, and I would slump in the middle. Still, I never even considered going back to the naked racist. No need to discover three new things about him in one day.
The second day of our three-day trip went about like the first. Poker took a dump on me, and life wasn't much better. I remember getting ripped off at Chipotle for about $2 and being too depressed to even say anything to the cashier.
I decided I had lost enough for one weekend, which meant I was stuck in Vegas for another 36 hours with money to eat on but nothing else.
The other guy who went with us played craps and blackjack a decent amount, and he was pretty cool to me when he found out I was busto. I went to a craps table with him and he told me to roll for him. I threw the dice way up in the air because, as everyone knows, the "lucky zone" in craps is 8 to 9 feet above the table. There's no telling where the dice will end up when you throw them that high, but you're guaranteed to win.
I won several throws in a row, and soon the whole table was excited. Some had been skeptics of the "lucky zone," but now they saw it with their own eyes.
Unfortunately, casino management was not a huge fan of the "lucky zone," especially since the dice bounce all the way off the table about one in three times. They don't really like that. I won about six games in a row, but when I finally lost I was politely asked to leave the table.
That was a fun way to pass the time, but I couldn't get back to Oklahoma fast enough.
Now, I can only hope that the week I spend in California goes a little better than that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
