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But! The rain has magically and mysteriously been held at bay, and the Jays and Yanks are tangling on TSN. And oh my! Marco Scutaro! Stealing bases! Fun fact: with 2 swipes, he already leads the 2007 Jays.
I've liked Scutaro the feisty Venezuelan (is there any other kind?) since I snagged a foul ball of his in Ottawa during his (lengthy) AAA days. He was with either Indianapolis (Brewers) or Norfolk (Mets) at the time. He was waaaay out in front of a breaking ball and he fired it down toward the third base dugout. It took one big hop and headed straight for me, sitting in the first row behind said dugout. I deflected it with my one free hand - the other cupping a beer - and it flared harmlessly straight over my head. When it came down again, it landed softly in that same hand, and nary a drop of beer was spilt. The ovation I got from the crowd was nice, but even better was the lingering look I got from Marco, a look of respect. It was brief, in the larger scale of things, but it was there. There was a recognition, an unmistakable vibe, a flash of respect from one man of the world to another. His look said, "Nice snag, mang." I returned him a nod that said: "I feel you, Marco."
As for this game, things have looked pretty good until - as I write this - the Yanks have loaded the bases in the 7th. A solid play by Hill to save a blown play... fuck, I love baseball! And then Doc Ks Melky Cabrera, forcing him to atone for his earlier sins against Jaysdom (Joe G: put Damon back in CF!).
Life is good again. After this one ends, King Felix - another feisty Venezuelan - takes the hill in Seattle. Sleep be damned.
Alright look, I don't pretend to be as entertaining a liveblogger as the Drunkards. I'm drinking chocolate milk tonight, not libations. Head on over there for sloppy hilarity.
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