Bronx & Beans

In the interest of equal time . . . but really because we're going to love posting Donnie Moore, Doug DeCinces and Dave Henderson photos each time the Yankees beat the California Angels this weekend . . . we let Halo Hughes open his trap once more. Here he goes.

Yes, we lost. I will say this slowly so Yankee fans can drink in this vast accomplishment and all the gravitas forthwith. THE......YANKEES......ACTUALLY......BEAT.....THE ANGELS. Twice even. It really happened.
It doesn't change Angel dominance of all things pinstripes. No, that goes back a decade or more and at least a billion in Yankee payroll. Nice to see we ensured the split Friday night with a 1-0 win in the Bronx though. So Sunday we give Vlad the day off. It's a getaway Sunday. The final day of an East Coast 7-3 swing. Not bad. A sweep in Fenway. Two out of four at Yankee Stadium. I'm not complaining. But a nice little win for those pesky little Yanks. See you next weekend on the Left Coast. Feel good about yourselves.

The Halos come home to Angels Stadium for a set with the Orioles. Not a good thing. As much as we have owned the Yankees, it's been the opposite with the O's. Couple of things to think about. Ripken gets the streak. Against who? The 1995 Angels, the uh hum, Tony Phillips Angels, sniff, sniff. That bus crash on the Jersey Turnpike a couple of years before that nearly killed the entire Angel club? Oh, it happened on the way to Baltimore.

So the Halos will drop one, maybe two, to the O's before we do our usual home punch out of the Yanks next weekend at the place where I did sooooo many things for the first time.

I'll give you just one: I'm working as a barback at Angel Stadium. It's 1981 and I'm 17 but i'm pouring beer and making a mean cocktail in the Grand Slam Room off the first base side on the terrace level. Sure it's illegal, a minor pouring cocktails, but it's baseball baby.

In the 6th inning, we break down the room and I have to wheel back the booze and leftover food to the Stadium Club on the club level. What a place that was. I'm in the elevator. Maybe I sampled some of the free Pabst, maybe I didn't. What's important is that in the elevator, about 5-foot-3 at this point in his life and probably three sheets to the wind himself is "The Cowboy" Gene Autry.

The man responsible for so much of my pain growing up. The man who made me think it was OK to carry a Bob Oliver baseball card in my wallet. The man who made me think "Papa Jack" Ron Jackson, could actually hit, long before he reinvented himself as a "hitting" coach for the...well you know who he coaches for. So I'm in the elevator and I say, and I'm not making this up, " How's it hangin' Gene?"

He looks at me with an expression of befuddled haze and maybe anger and I'm ushered out the door. I didn't get fired but it was because of that old-fashioned greeting between two old buddies, employer to employee really, that the Angels started a new policy where no stadium employees could ride the elevator with Gene. I'm told it still exists with Arte. My legacy.

Next Saturday, look for me, my son Q-Fabulous and Lou-the-Doo, my old man, in section 44 at Angel Stadium. Q's 9 so he sports the classic red Angel cap, I'll be going retro classic for the occasion: classic, 1971 style, small 'a' with the gold halo, Navy cap, red bill. Lou the Doo goes with the navy mid 1990s look: 'CA' with the silver halo that has never quite fit across his dome since I bought it for him at a game against the Brewers on July 27th, 1996.

Why do I remember this date?

The same night that dude lit a bomb at the Atlanta Olympics. All things lead back to the Halos, good, and mostly, if you chart back nearly 50 years, bad. Lou wears his lid Albert Belle 3/4 style, by the way.

A mean threesome.

THE BRONX

THE BEANS

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Bronx & Beans

Two Yankees fans. Two Red Sox fans. One season of back-and-forth bickering.

Halo Hughes keeps yapping

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