We will publish our findings related to Thing of the Week #3: Content Delays this coming Wednesday. As a result of your patience, we reward you with an extended Monday-Morning Magazine Edition for your Reading Pleasure. You’re Welcome.
It’s a verifiable fact that America is all about Freedom. It says so in the lyrics of “God Bless the U.S.A.” by Lee Greenwood. Not directly, but we get the sense that’s the gist.
While on the subway this week, we began a discussion about American honorifics and the horrifying lack of them.
It’s been a long-standing tradition to impart honorary titles onto those who have changed the world: Alexander Fleming became a Nobel Prize winner for discovering Penicillin, Patrick Stewart became a Knight of the Realm for becoming one of the youngest Star-fleet captains in history, and Meatloaf convinced people to call him Meatloaf – Lord of the Motorcycles and Slayer of Ex-Boyfriends.
Sure America has the Presidential Medal of Freedom, but there’s no real title to go along with the medal. What’s the point of being noticed if people don’t acknowledge your heraldry? When the darkness of Sheb-Ul rips a hole in our reality and comes roiling fourth to devour the humble peasants of Pleasantvillage, or if North Korea decides to finally reveal and launch their global assault fleet of Triremes, America needs a universally respected title for its defenders who will fight with the Queen’s Knights for the fate of humanity; something like “Freedom Eagles,” “American American,” or “Monster Trucks Ltd.”
Last week we decided to investigate a top contender for America’s official warrior title – World Series Champion – by investigating the ancient medieval pastime of Baseball.
According to the travel brochures, America is about two things:
- Freedom
- Baseball
And while both have been around since a time when men were Men and children worked in factories until they earned enough to buy themselves a gutter to sleep in, Baseball leaves many people wondering: Is it a Thing?
A .gif for Millenials:
Baseball in a Nutshell
For Everyone Else:
Don’t worry, we know you don’t know what a baseball is because your father never wanted to play catch with you. We’ve got your backs. Here’s what you need to know:
- Baseball is played by 2 teams of grown men (heretofore referred to as ‘Champions’) who wear long tighty-whiteys on an arena of clay and grass so they can show their battle scars after each game.
- Instead of a single traditional cow sacrifice, Baseball champions sacrifice multiple cowhide ‘baseballs’ on the anvil of the bat-god, or in the folds of a catchers ‘pig-skin’ at speeds of roughly 10-100 mph. The ritual is complex in its nuances and symbolism.
Exhibit A: A “Fast” “Ball”
- The two teams politely take turns attempting to hit a member of the other team with the baseball while that person defends himself with a bat or by running to a base where he is considered “safe.” If that person can jog all the way around the bases and back to home, they get a point for their team and more steroids. Truly a majestic display of athleticism and physical prowess you do not want to miss.
- Baseball may or may not have been played in 1845, but it was definitely played in 1846.
- Hot dogs, peanuts and cracker jacks didn’t become a mandatory part of the baseball experience until the 1890’s. It is now considered illegal to not have these foods at a baseball game, unless it is after the 14th inning and the staff have all gone home and turned off the stadium.
- Unlike the recently-lowered bar for English Knighthood (most Knights of the Realm have never ridden a horse at the tilts or pillaged Antioch), Baseball participants are only allowed the title of “World Champion” after a rigorous, 4,000+ game gauntlet of competition, where they must repeatedly swing a bat in a vigorous chopping motion to demonstrate their combat skills on the battlefield.
- Baseball is played across the world, but can usually be identified by the sounds of cars, cheers, cowbell, face planting, and silence during the 7th inning stretch.
- Bartolo Colon, who threw the first ceremonial pitch at the dawn of mankind with God, is a pitcher who has played for 10 Major League baseball teams including the New York Mets.
In order to properly research and document this something, we were escorted to a Baseball gladiator arena by our good friend (and guest speaker) Jeff, of “Late Nights with Jeff” (ENGAGE LINKS TO CONTENT TO DRIVE TRAFFIC! COLLUSION ENGAGE!)
Before we go any further, we sat down with Jeff for an
EXCLUSIVE, NO-HOLDS-BARRED INTERVIEW:
[BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]
[Chmaj fixing the record player in the background so we can have Meatloaf’s sweet chords serenade us]
Lyle: Hi Jeff, we’re really glad to have you here at CALMAT. How has your time in New York been so far?
Chmaj: DON’T ANSWER THAT.
Jeff: It’s been great except for the two crazy people I’ve shared an apartment with.
Chmaj: How’s it feel words and interview questions, y’know interview questions?
Lyle: Any response?
Jeff: To what? Chmaj’s question? 42.
Chmaj: Wrong answer. You’re out of the bonus elimination round. You’re killing me Jeff!
Lyle: What makes you qualified for this position? What can you bring to the team?
Jeff: I’m a good friend of one of the heads and founders of this fine organization. And now I’m the Head Chairman.
[Classical music plays in background. Chmaj has officially joined the interview]
Chmaj: So….
[long pause]
Jeff: Yes?
[long pause – classical music continues in background]
Jeff: I don’t know what you want me to do
[long pause – classical music continues in background]
Jeff: Is this how interviews go?
Chmaj: Ah yes! Very interesting. ..
Jeff: [picks up 3D glasses] Everything’s in 3D
Chmaj : But what do you think of you know…[waving hand]
Lyle: Well?
Jeff: Uh… no.
Chmaj: A Bold statement sure, indeed. Go on.
Jeff: I would have to say that. Uh. Greedo did it-
Chmaj: I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for this evening.
Lyle: Thank you Chmaj. Now Jeff, tell us something about yourself. It can be anything.
Jeff: I have lived in 3 different states.
Lyle: What 3 states?
Jeff: Illinois, Washington, Georgia-
Chmaj: We’re not ready for this interview Lyle, WE’RE NOT READY! We’re going to get so many un-likes.
[The rest of the interview happened after Chmaj finished the last song on Meatloaf. Chmaj and Lyle spoke jointly together.]
Chmaj: What do you think of the cosmos and our relationship to it for all time and space, etc. etc. ad nauseum…
Jeff: 42.
Chmaj: He’s dodging-He’s dodging. He’s going to be a tough one to crack. Where were you on the night of January 12, 2013? Before you answer, know that Mrs. Delancey had some very interesting things to say. ..
Jeff: January 13, I was at home eating dinner with my family.
Lyle: What about January 12?
Jeff: I was working.
Lyle: So Jeff what do you do for fun?
Jeff: I like to pet dogs, eat pizza. That’s all really.
Chmaj: Well Jeff, what is it like being you?
Jeff: It’s interesting.
Chmaj: How much do you pay in taxes?
Jeff: uhm… Uh… a lot. A lot.
Chmaj: Tell us how you started Late Nights With Jeff. What’s Jeff like?
Jeff: I was bored in my apartment and-
Chmaj: So you have room and board at your apartment. Does the board come with the apartment or do you have to pay extra?
Jeff: It depends on the day of the week. Mondays or Tuesdays it’s more expensive. I live in a brothel – don’t put that-
Chmaj: Chicken or beef?
[silence]
Chmaj: So Jeff, what do you think about our offices’ and shiny speedboat, [to Lyle] make sure that ‘shiny speedboat’ is in the article, we want them to know about it.
Jeff: It’s shiny.
Chmaj: See he’s gonna say it anyway.
[END TRANSCRIPT]
Per Jeff’s request, we braved cold winds, rush hour traffic, and much line-waiting in order to experience a Mets Game at Shea Stadium Citi Field at the site of the Worlds Fair Flushing Meadows-Corona Park Flushing Meadows Park in Flushing Meadows. The goal of this investigation was to determine if Baseball was a Thing.
Jeff hails from Chicago – a town known for its two wildly successful Baseball Legions (the White Socks and Cubs) – and was already fairly certain this investigation was unwarranted.
Chmaj, having grown up in Washington State (where the best thing to come out of their sad excuse for a baseball team was a series of polka songs about Ichiro Suzuki and a habit of trading star players to the Yankees with the same voracity as a 6-year-old trades their grandfathers’ mint baseball cards), was not so certain.
Lyle wanted to go because they have a Gluten-Free Restaurant. Go Mets!
While initial committee discussions were mixed at best, violent at worst, we all agreed that the only way to fully verify the Thingularity of Baseball would be to go to an official Major League Game involving two 100% Professional teams, and see if we would get the “True Baseball Experience.” It is by this metric that we would determine the results of our findings – by how much ‘baseball’ our experience was.
Thing of The Week #3.5
SUBJECT: Baseball
Millennials scared of words are advised to skip this article altogether, as it is far too long.
What follows is a double-length exposé chronicling our experience at a New York Metropolitan Sporting Event. It is a journal of our experiences on the front, inning by inning. The names of those involved have been changed to protect their identities.
Theme song for the issue: “Piano Man” by Billy Joel
You may also alternate with the Mets Anthem if the mood strikes you
PHASE 1: PREGAME
Our trip to Citi-Field began when Chmaj’s long time friend Jeff came in to visit from Atlanta. Aside from being a wonderful house guest, Jeff also bought tickets from an online scalper for Chmaj & Lyle to go with him to see the Atlanta Braves [BATRA $23.31* 0.10 dwn0.43%] play the New York Mets [not publicly traded] because he was just that awesome.
Our first baseball test of the day was simple: How many lines would we have to face on our way to the Gladiatorial Arena?
After being packed into the 7 Train like sardines surrounded by sweaty, hairy men and women in Mets jerseys, we arrived at Citi-Field. Leaving the train and shoving our way past a horde of loud and joyful participants, we were greeted with a massive confluence of lines the likes of which has not been seen since the ancient markets of Damascus.
So far, we were off to a great start!
While waiting in line to get past security at Citi-Field, we were reminded that we needed tickets to enter the game! Good thing we had already bought them.
We were then serenaded by the sounds of the Mets theme song.
As majestic as ever. Truly the anthem of Champions.
After standing in line for 20 minutes and convincing security we were not a threat, we were finally allowed to enter Citi-Field.
Baseball – being a wartime sport – is well-known for its violent war-minded spectators. We appreciated the rigorous glance at our bags and light pat downs before entering as it proved only the baddest of the bad are allowed to see the Mets in their natural habitat.
At the entrance we were greeted by the banners of retired former Mets, their championship banner, and a bunch of words like “hope,” “perseverance,” and “termination;” which, as we later learned, is important to the Mets as they are used to their hopes being terminated each and every game.
Go Mets!
LYLEQUEST 2017 PART 1 – THE SEARCH FOR GLUTEN
Because baseball is American and America is all about food, Lyle made a beeline for the gluten free (& organic) food stand, where food only cost $6.50.
The only affordable Gluten-Free store in a 300 mile radius.
With all that saved money and the assistance of a kindly old forgetful Mets Staff Manager who was working the cash register on his day off, Lyle was provided the indigenous cuisine native to a Mets Game: a hotdog, charred-beyond-edible hamburger, and a free beer. It was good.
Then it was off to get harassed by the guy hawking Newsday who really wanted Lyle to subscribe to get a free Mets jacket. Despite his hypnotic and desperate suggestion that Lyle needed Newsday in his life, Lyle remembered it was Newsday and so left for the bathrooms.
As baseball is America’s family friendly pastime, the bathrooms are of course extra sanitary, this one even came with gloves.
If the Glove Don’t Fit, You Must Stuff it into a Sink!
Finally, Lyle left to begin the climb to the Excelsior(!) area where Chmaj & Jeff were waiting with more beer.
Chmaj and Jeff’s Experience
Baseball is all about sitting, so Chmaj & Jeff both climbed the perilous concrete steps up floor after floor to Excelsior(!) class, grunting from the exertion on their way to the far-flung corner of the stadium.
Arriving at their aisle they proceeded to claim seats with much chest-pounding and waving of ticket stubs. Since the stadium was mostly empty, this display went unnoticed.
After setting up camp they headed to a food stand, where Jeff received a Hot Dog and Fries for the kingly sum of $21. Across the market square, Two cans of Rolling Rock (a traditionally cheap beer) cost another $20. We assumed this money helped contribute to the golden hoard rewarded to the victors at the end of the game, and so were not bothered to donate funds to this game of games.
Both parties barely caught the national anthem, performed in a harrowing diminished-minor atonal key by a Choir of Children (Check Rolling Stone in about 6 months for solid coverage of this historic and definitely controversial performance)
After a smattering of applause, a blistering double-bounce opening pitch at the hand of “Some dude from Connecticut,” and the traditional blood-sacrifice, it was off to the Races!
INNING 1: STANDING IN THE SHADOW OF GOD-GIANTS
While familiar with the concept of Baseball, none of our bodies were prepared for the onslaught that was the first inning. While many traditions are expected to be performed throughout the ancient ritual of a Baseball game, the New York Mets take it to an entirely different plane of existence.
As soon as the reigning champions marched their way out the field, we were greeted with a full-blast rendition of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Simple Man” in its entirety as an introduction to Mets’ Pitcher Noah Syndergaard – an actual descendant of the God of Thunder.
(Lyle’s note: Lyle, being far more attentive to the subtle nuances, would like to note that Syndergaard did not play or pitch this game it was actually Jacob Degrom)
(Chmaj’s Counter-Note: They all kinda looked the same…)
While initially awe-struck by his thunderous pitches and the sweet jams of the Skyn-men, we quickly learned that Syndergaard was only one god of many Over the course of many… many innings, we attended court to:
- A King of the Lions by the name of Yoenis Cespedes. We know this because of the audible rendition of “The Circle Of Life” every time he walked up to bat.
- Jay Z’s Brother, Jay Bruce. We know this because of the similar names, and because he walked up to a license-safe version of ‘Public Service Announcement’
While floored in the presence of so many gods-among-men, these peons were a shadow in
The Gleaming Golden God-Light streaming out of the Patron Saint of Baseball,
Saint. Bartolo. Colon.
(every time Bartolo walked out of the dugout this happened)
For those of you living under a rock for the last 43 years, Saint Colon was gifted to the United States of America by the Dominican Republic as the Oldest Baseball Player-God currently playing in the Major Leagues.
Every pitch he throws is perfect, even the ones the other team hits it.
Photo: NYT, Taken shortly before the baseball sent the cameraman to meet their maker
He has perfected the art of swinging.
Photo: SNY, demonstrating the Form of Champions
His nickname is “Big Sexy,” On account of his 300 secret families…
…and his animal grace in all things involving movement.
He even hit a home run once – At age 42 – In a sport so violent that most Baseball Players die of battlefield injuries at 16.
While all of the above documentation implies that he is the star-champion of the New York Mets, he was traded to the Atlanta Braves this year on a $12 billion contract – making him both the highest-paid player in all sports, and completing his goal of playing baseball for every single team that ever was and ever will be.
Bartolo Colon – who threw the first ceremonial pitch at the dawn of mankind for God – is now a pitcher for the Atlanta Braves, but this did not mean that the Mets forgot him.
Airing a special “We Miss You Bartolo” video and even getting a standing ovation from all the Mets fans in attendance when he went up to bat, Saint Colon majestically hit a grounder, and galloped for first while carrying his bat with him. Sadly he never made it to first base. But he did pitch for a little bit.
After the first appearance of the Patron Saint of Baseball, everyone in the stadium lost consciousness for the remainder of the Inning.
INNING 2: GOD BLESS THE USA
While nations in the sphere of the Holy Roman Empire are blessed by the Pope on occasion, and Soccer Games traditionally override the joy receptors of one’s brain with a chorus of Vuvuzelas, It is common tradition in the United States of America for military aircraft to fly over a sporting event.
This is usually done at the end of a National Anthem to reward the singer for maintaining “The Land of the FreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEE” for at least 10-15 seconds.
While a single flyover would have been sufficient for any other sporting event, Citi-Field is conveniently located next to LaGuardia International Airport, and overlooks the takeoff lane for Delta Airlines.
This architectural marvel meant that a supersonic jet flew over the stadium every 3 minutes or so, and by the transitive properties of freedom, this meant that our Mets game was the most American ever experienced in the history of everything.
Go Mets!
The increase in humidity (important plot point for INNING 6), led to another baseball moment: A gentlemen only known as “Faceplant Man” – a middle aged fellow who lost his footing on the stairs and nearly cut his eye out of his skull.
After remaining prone for roughly 20 seconds, he was hefted into his seat by several concerned patrons. While bleeding out onto the floor, Faceplant Man was still committed to having so much fun at the game that he did not want to leave. Eventually the EMT’s convinced him it was better in the long run to come with them and return to the game after he had been checked for a concussion.
Faceplant Man – Extreme Right behind all the other people in the shot. Blood pool bottom-center.
While he never returned to his seat, Faceplant Man’s blood remained on the stairs for the rest of the evening – a testament to the blood shed by Mets fans in service to their gods, and an obstacle for all to witness and sidestep on their way to and from their seats.
Excelsior!
INNING 3: IT’S NOT ABOUT THE GAME, IT’S ABOUT TEACHING YOUNG CHILDREN THE SENSATION OF DISAPPOINTMENT
When we had recovered from the initial excitement of being in the presence of God-Kings on the field of dreams, we were able to take better stock of our surroundings. It was at this point that we started to realize another time-honored tradition of baseball: the games are as boring as ****.
While The New York Mets had both a Norse God and the King of Lions on their team, playing against the Patron Saint of Baseball (a former teammate! Oh the treachery! The Drama!) put the Mets and Braves at even levels of skill. No ball could be pitched too fast, no swing was too accurate, for lo did the game march on with the monotony of a well-tuned clock:
Strike-strike-ball-ball-hit-strike-catch-out-strike-ball-ball-ball-walk-hit-catch-strike-strike-ball-strike-inning.
Every round these American Gladiators locked weapons in fierce combat, with neither side giving ground to the other, and quite frankly not trying all that hard to win. The end result was a series of innings where nothing really happened.
FORTUNATELY, The New York Metropolitan Baseball Association (in partnership with Nikon™, Topps™, Subway™, Papa Johns™, LootCrate™, IFC™, M&M’s™, et.al.) is well-aware of this common occurrence, and came well-prepared with numerous countermeasures to combat the steadily-rising tide of boredom.
While most baseball stadiums will settle for an occasional organ song
Or maybe a man running around shouting about beer and peanuts
The Mets had this and much, much more! Every inning was chock-full of weapons of mass-distraction.
Our first taste was the official Topps™ inter-inning entertainment segment, where they brought a young girl up on the Jumbotron and made her open a baseball card booster pack.
How they managed to convince anybody under the age of 35 in 2017 to willingly touch a baseball card is beyond us, but the rules of the game were simple: all they had to do was give the kid a Topps pack with a Mets player inside it and the kid would win a smile. Instead this happy little girl got a taste of the Real World.
She was promised fame and glory if the pack contained a card representing a player from the Mets (past or present), and after a bit of frantic scrambling discovered not a single Mets player in her stack of now-useless cardboard.
While this child frowned and fought back tears, a representative from Topps™ gave her a bright-red Topps™-branded T-shirt twenty sizes too large as a consolation prize, presumably as a way to help grow into her shame for the next 5-10 years of therapy.
Go Mets!
INNING 4: PEOPLE SHOW UP
The stadium was basically empty until the 4th Inning. Then it was slightly-above-empty. Much discussion was had about possibly moving to other seats, but any closer to the action and we risked a head injury from all the fly-balls.
Thankfully we kept our seats, and were treated to a further six innings of dynamic commentary from a group of Finance Bros and their Beaus who filled the aisle behind us.
A lovely elderly couple sat to our immediate right at this point, and proceeded to attend the next 4 innings of the game completely silent, expressionless, and emotionless until leaving at the bottom of the 8th.
Go Mets!
It was also at this point that we were treated to both:
A Merengue Dance Break between players, fans, and a green screen
This experience was assisted by the loud and proud delegation of Dominican-Americans in Section 412, who shouted many variations of praise and insult depending on the proficiency of the dancers.
A Non-infringing Right-Turning Nascar Soapbox Break
Like the great Chariot Races of yesteryear, this game of games came down to 3 high-speed child-sized gokarts driven by interns that raced around Citi-Field at a blazing 5-10mph. The winner got a break and maybe a Ford Raptor? Honestly, we weren’t really sure what was going on.
INNING 5: HOME RUN! HOMEEEEEE RUNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!
Just when entertainment seemed bleak, another 737 flew over the stadium, signalling to the Mets that it was finally time to strike. And lo and behold, they hit a HOME RUN. Apparently this is something that is supposed to happen at every Baseball game, and until it does the game does not stop.
The success of this play, and the resultant mild cheering and standing of several patrons accompanied by another 737 flyby gave us hope – this game would not be eternal, and it would go down in history as another baseball game.
LYLEQUEST 2017 PART 2 – GLUTEN: REVOLUTIONS
Around the 5th inning, Lyle went to go check out the Shake Shack at Citi-Field. After discovering that he could not shake The Shack until food came out, Lyle instead decided to go back to get more free beer from the kindly old Gluten-Free Mets Manager.
On his way back, Lyle grabbed a photo of the Control Room – where the AV Crew was desperately scrambling to make the game as baseline-interesting as possible.
On his way back, Lyle encountered David and his 2 friends. David saw Lyle walking by and decided to walk with him, complimenting him on his walk, “That’s a nice walk you’ve got there.” David made sure people moved out of Lyle’s way as he continued to walk. Despite David’s very generous offer of great seats “Go all the way down to the front, tell them David sent you,” Lyle knew he couldn’t leave Chmaj and Jeff hanging up in Excelsior(!)
After a brief conversation with David and two of his friends, one of whom complimented Lyle on his smile and asked if he was there for business or pleasure, they exchanged business cards and went merrily on their way.
More photos from the pit – Even Mr. M&M was having a hard time getting excited for the home team…
While yes, it was a bit odd, that friendly spirit is what baseball is all about: meeting people you don’t know at a stadium, exchanging words, and giving them your business card made with crayon and comic sans.
INNING 6: WRATH OF THE BIFROST
While the majority of the day had been clear skies and good sailing winds, it was at this point in the evening that the temperature dropped to -45˚F and the sky was suddenly filled with miniature water crystals.
Like the game itself, the rain was trapped in limbo: unable to complete its journey and instead deciding to permeate every square inch of the stadium in a fog of chilly misery.
The 300 mph winds helped the flags around the stadiums fly free, but did not assist in maintaining a stable core temperature. Many Mets fans started to leave early with cases of hypothermia.
Our food stocks ran low, and we lacked both the funds to purchase more at the market square or the ammunition to hunt our own. It wouldn’t have mattered as game was not plentiful in Citi-Field. Lyle was beginning to regret not purchasing a spare Axle before getting on the 7 Train.
In order to further complete our experience Jeff & Chmaj left in the middle of the inning to walk around the Team store, and then purchase a cup of life-sustaining Dunkin Doughnuts Coffee/Hot Chocolate to restore vitals and keep fingers from falling off. Come hell or high water, we were going to see this game through to its completion!
Inning break highlights included:
The Trivia Drive where one lucky mets fan got the chance to win 30 “Mets bucks” in a car.
His lack of general knowledge in the realm of both trivia and fashion led to a swift loss. And then the car pealed out in a cloud of dust and drove away…
Realizing the Mets could stand to draft some of the children participating in their inter-inning sporting events.
7TH INNING: STRETCH TIME
As is tradition, the 7th inning is that time-honored moment where everybody is supposed to stand up and sing “Take Me Out To The Ball Game” as part of a built-in sobriety test for those expecting to drive home at the end of the festivities. In the spirit of baseball, here’s a seventh-inning stretch for the article!
(Chmaj & Jeff stretch a rubber band, while Jeff holds the key we planned to sing in)
Because this is New York City, and a Mets game, no 7th inning stretch would be complete without both a singalong to Billy Joel’s “Piano Man:”
And to disprove any possible association between the NYC/NJ Metropolitan area and the events portrayed in “The Godfather,” Lou Monte’s “Lazy Mary”
Because of course they would.
By the time the 7th inning stretch and the accompanying silence had arrived, Mets fans were leaving the stadium in droves.
This wasn’t because they were up against the Braves or losing to the Braves… at this point the game had somehow led to a solid tie after the Mets allowed their second-string middle-aged pitcher to load the bases and get yelled at by the catcher.
This was because it was the 7th inning on a Wednesday night and like all good Mets fans they had to be up for work in the morning.
INNING 8: ONSET OF HYPOTHERMIA FEVER LED TO THE NECESSITY OF MORE COWBELL
Throughout the evening, we had heard the occasional ring of a Cowbell – Humanity’s most rhythmic of percussive tools. We had assumed this instrument was in the hands of somebody on the other side of the stadium, but as the noises grew in intensity we began to wonder: Were there several cowbell musicians throughout the stadium performing at various points in time? Or was this the work of a lone bellman?
Our questions were answered at the bottom of the 8th when, with a swish of his cloak and a clang of his bell, the great mets legend COWBELL MAN (#21) made his presence known in Excelsior(!) level.
COWBELLMAN (#21), an official mainstay superfan of the New York Mets found his way up to Excelsior(!) around the time the game was all tied up at 1-1
Jersey beaming proudly, with a twinkle in his eye and a deft flick of the wrist, Cowbell man clanged his way into our hearts with enthusiastic tapping of his titular Instrument of Choice.
He brought much joy and merriment with him along with more cowbell. After a brief demonstration of skill, he made his way over to the next section to spread the joy. He did not rest until every aisle had enjoyed the miracle of his sound.
It was not lost on us that he had a better hitting average than all the players for both the Mets and Braves combined.
INNING #9: THE BLOOD PACT – ENDING WITH A HANDSHAKE
By the middle of the Ninth Inning (roughly 3 ½ hours since the first pitch), it was clear the game was going to last for another 10 Innings with a default to tie: the 1-1 score wasn’t going anywhere.
Both teams were down to what looked like 4th or 5th-string players, as their superstars had all left early in order to get enough rest and miss the AM rush to their day jobs in retail. Even Saint Colon had gone home for the evening! The coaches were no longer playing to win, they were playing to score, and their champions were coming up wanting.
Our section was deserted, except for a single man sitting in front of us who decided to let all his pent up rage from a lifetime of Mets fandom out at this point after bottling it up for the previous 8 innings.
“COME ON YOU GUYS HIT THE FUCKING BALL.”
-the Man in Row 3, Excelsior(!)-Level
We decided on terms of a mutual handshake blood-pact that if the game remained tied and forced itself into extra innings, we would head home early.
It wasn’t for lack of love for the game, or hatred of America, but more for lack of both funds for more foodstuffs (leading to risk of starvation), and the lack of feeling in our extremities (from the constant punishing winds).
Freedom be damned, we had received enough memories for one evening.
At the bottom of the 9th we picked up our garbage, tiptoed around the slowly-freezing blood stains of Faceplant Man, and trudged to the 7 Train – lights of Citi Field at our backs.
INNING NG+: THE PERFECT BASEBALL EXPERIENCE
All good baseball games have a lesser-known portion of the pastime built into their existence: the ride home.
Warming our hands on the (now-local) subway ride home, watching as more Mets fans disembark at stop after stop, we captured the final moments of this historic game through the occasional live update on twitter.
1 hour later as we hit a cellephone connection underground between 59th and 125th on the A train, the final score came in: 3-1 Braves, 12th Inning.
Truly an Historic Game
Thus Concluded our Baseball Experience.
FINDINGS
The following is our conclusions regarding the potential Thingularity of Baseball (For more information on our analysis process, please reference Thingology 101).
Hardness: 5
While the sport of baseball is arguably not that difficult compared to other life events and/or sports. On the other hand, Faceplant Man’s Faceplant proved that Citi-Field is in fact a very solid piece of construction.
Reality: 10
While initially we had defaulted to 5, the blood on the stairs from Faceplant Man and the lack of feeling in our extremities by the bottom of the 8th inning made the game extremely real. Baseball is 100% real.
COLOR: 5
The American Flag is Red, White, and Blue. The Field was Green and Brown with White markings. The Mets Logo is Orange and Blue, and the Braves is Red and White. Since Orange/Brown are variations of Red and Yellow, the total color count for the game was only 5.
Unfortunately Disappointment does not have a color, as this was present at many points throughout the event and would have raised the score significantly.
EDIBILITY: 7
While the food provided in Citi Fields’ many street markets was highly edible, the sport itself is unfortunately not something you want to try and eat – A single player from either team would probably feed a family of cannibals for at least a week.
VERTICAL REACH: 0
While you could theoretically high-five those sitting next to you at any point in a baseball game, there was absolutely no moment throughout the entire experience that warranted one. Plus a high-five would block sightlines for those sitting behind you, which would be highly rude. Low-fives were much more common throughout the evening.
If you’ve made it this far, you’re not a millennial. Therefore a .gif is not necessary.
AVERAGE: 5.5
All non-fantasy statistics accounted for, Baseball is a solid average of being both A Thing, and Not A Thing.
It would be up to Chmaj & Lyle to decide the final verdict:
RESULTS
QUESTION: IS BASEBALL A THING?
Chmaj: “I had a great time with my friends, and was entertained from the minute we got on the train until the minute we got home. The game itself didn’t really contribute to that at all, but the experience was legendary. For better and for worse, Baseball is definitely a Thing.”
Lyle: “Taken as an experience, not as a game, Baseball is a thing…. Baseball is a Thing. Sure. You can quote me on that.”
Jeff: “When are you guys going to finish the article again?”
ANSWER: YES. BASEBALL IS A THING
CONCLUSION: BASEBALL IS A THING
3-1 BRAVES
While the overall arc of our tale would imply a miserable experience, the reality was that we had a grand ol’ time!
If there’s one thing we learned from both Mets fans and the Stadium itself, it was never about watching a game where a bunch of overweight men failed to hit a ball or run around the bases, it was about the experience of going to the game, meeting new people, buying overpriced food and savoring every drop, and leaving early to catch the final innings on your phone.
Everybody there had a great time, even those who left as early as the 5th inning – and they had the decency to give Saint Colon a standing ovation when he bunted in the 4th.
While none of us have much interest in attending a baseball game again any time soon
(Lyle note: I may actually go again to get a Steve Harvey Lawn Gnome for the apartment.)
(Chmaj note: Kid, you’re on your own.)
the experience was well worth it, and the freedom to decide whether or not to see a game in the future is what makes America the Greatest country in the USA.
Special shoutout once again to Jeff of “Late Nights with Jeff,” (link!) It was an honor and a privilege sharing this experience with you!
And finally thank you – dear reader – for coming with us on our greatest exploration yet!
Now it’s time for Billy Joel to play us out!
Any additional comments?
Chmaj: “Never ask us to explain the Tomahawk Chop.”
CHMAJ & LYLE MAKE A THING 