Some sights and sounds (and a few thoughts) on Game 3 of the American League Division Series between the Yankees and Angels:
Print people. So glad I am one of them. The television media had to stand in the rain during the pregame as they did their stand-ups.
Green apples. That's all that was left in the complimentary food section for the media when I got there. Guess I missed out on the pre-made turkey sandwich in a box.
Puddles in the dugout. Who cares, I'm in the dugout at Yankee Stadium. Been there before, but I never will fully come to grips with my unworthiness of occupying such a latitudinal place in this world.
The out-of-town scoreboard. CWS 5, BOS 3. That was on the scoreboards the entire night. Ah, sweetness.
The Stadium. It has such a regal presence in October as much as any other month. There really is no place like Yankee Stadium. Even in the rain.
Bad pretzels. A shame, really. For $4, you'd like to think the pretzel would show up and earn its money. Perhaps it's not unlike the starting pitcher for the team whose stadium sold it.
Auxiliary press box. A pretty cool place to watch a game. There's nothing fancy about it. It's the last two sections of the loge section in fair territory of right field with plywood for tables and some power outlets. Great view. Good overhead coverage.
Deafening chants. "MVP! MVP!" when A-Rod stepped to the plate in the exciting fourth inning. "Booooooooo" on a number of occasions when Randy Johnson's pitches hit the Grand Concourse.
Mama La Monica. Wish she were around calling my cellie with "He stinks" and "That's my Derek" and "Why is he still pitching?"
Mama La Monica, part II. I should have known. She had a 6:30 a.m. wakeup call at the hotel in Sorrento, Italy. "Did they win?" No, Mama La Monica, they didn't. "Oh, no, really?" Yeah, Ma. Now go enjoy the rest of Italy.
Bunting. I am again reminded why I've always wanted to hang it in my apartment during the playoffs.
Jimmy Leyritz. The star appeal wore off long ago, but every now and then, I catch myself saying, "Be a professional, not a chickenhead." Walking by Jimmy "The King" Leyritz on my way from the media room to the field was one of those times. I wanted to shake his hand and say thanks for the homer in Game 2 of the 1995 ALDS and the destruction of Mark Wohlers' career in the 1996 World Series, but I refrained. Professionalism must always reign above all else.
Bathroom lines. More than 30 people waited on line for the men's room in the 7th inning. On principle, I left.
Bathroom lines, part II. More than 20 people waited on line for the men's room in the 8th inning. For biology, I stayed.
Straight lines. Several fans in the right-field loge section were not walking in them.