New York, New York: Fifteen minutes, or one day, more

If we had only stayed 15 minutes longer …

My wife and I had once worried that today’s Yankees game against Oakland would be a washout, but it actually didn’t rain at all during the game, and our seats were under cover.

However, it was just chilly enough, with just enough of a breeze, to be cold, especially after four hours of baseball.

So we decided to leave after the 10th inning.

If we had only stayed 15 minutes longer, or had weather like yesterday

… I wouldn’t have found out about this on the subway. At least they didn’t lose.

Of course, if we had stayed, the Yankees probably would have lost in 16 innings and I wouldn’t be able to feel my hands right now, because that’s how those things go.

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There was a great moment today — at least I thought it was great — that had nothing to do with the game.

A guy wandered down to the front of the section next to ours, beer in one hand, Didi Gregorius giveaway bat in the other — even though the bats were supposed to be for kids 14 and under — and started chanting “dilly dilly.”

Constantly.

”Dilly dilly” has always been a stupid beer company slogan, and it passed its expiration date months ago. I was ready to beat him with his own bat, and one of the fans behind me loudly (and profanely) yelled that he should sit down, when an usher walked down the aisle.

She looked like she really didn’t want to do it — I would guess those encounters can be unpredictable — but she asked him to please sit down and stop waving the bat around.

When she turned to walk away, fans started cheering her. It took a few seconds, but she smiled.

Too bad our man didn’t get the hint, though. In the middle of the Yankees’ four-run rally in the fifth inning to tie the game, security came and asked him to leave.

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It pleases me to hear this. By the same token, it’s good that I don’t need to know the mechanics of the internal combustion engine to enjoy good pasta.

(Pro tip: If eating “authentic New York-style pasta,” it works best if you’re doing it in New York as opposed to, say, Edinburgh, Scotland. Edinburgh is a wonderful city, and we loved it, but Italian food, not so much.)

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I figured my brother would like a photo with Gleyber Torres, so I texted him this one in the first inning.

He texted me back that Michael Kay had dubbed him “Childish Bambino,” and I have a feeling he was surprised that I knew it was in reference to Donald Glover’s rap alter ego.

If he had asked me to name a Childish Gambino song, however, he would have had me.

What started as my appreciation of a Tim Flannery tweet about Tony Gwynn hardly ever striking out turned into a debate with my boy Poopsie about Aaron Judge.

I love Aaron Judge. He’s a terrific all-around player, seems like a really nice guy and is both a better hitter than I thought he would be and a lot of fun to watch hit baseballs very hard and very far.

But I do think he strikes out too much, that the way he hits the ball, he could do even more damage than he already does if he swung and missed less.

Today, he was 1-for-5 with a walk and three strikeouts.

But that one … yeah, it was really fun to watch.

8 thoughts on “New York, New York: Fifteen minutes, or one day, more

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