Post by MSBNYY on Dec 21, 2007 13:10:05 GMT -5
Some people will likely have great stories about brawls they have seen in the bleachers. This could be a good thread for people to remember them. Let's start it off with a cut/paste job of Tom's recent post in the Johan Santana thread:
The real problems started when John and his mustache would not get off of his phone. We were giving him all kinds of grief for it, but he was defending his actions as he was trying to “place a bet.” Any of you that know Kathy know that, when she has drinks in her, she could be, um, difficult. So she was barking right back at us, really making for a jolly atmosphere for all in earshot.
I think the real issue I had with that early bleacher power couple was simply John’s mustache. Some people were calling him “Kotter” by this time, even though Steve, who had never seen nor even heard of that show but decided to notate this for posterity wrote down “Gabe Commer on the phone”. People were also calling him Weird Al Yankovich which was a bit of a stretch. What he actually looked like was total Long Island guido, like he should be flipping pizzas or something.
It got really ugly when he yelled back at then bleacher stalwart Sandy when she took a stroll a couple of rows down to give him jack while he was on the phone with his bookie once again. He yelled right back at her. I was just looking for an excuse, and since Sandy had put me on the phone with her homeslice Roy White the game before, I owed her one. So I promptly staggered to my feet, lurched forward a couple of rows, and threw a half-punch/half-slap at Johns grill. You could hear the “bu-doink” of my cupped fist left ringing on his head. All kinds of scuffling sparked from this flashpoint, including Kathy trying to get at me, which would certainly not be the last time a girl with an agenda wanted to take some punches at good old Sheriff Tom out there. I am not sure how this was all quashed, although the bottom line ended up with my drunken ass being allowed to stay and Kathy and John being ushered on out of there.
To this day people that were on the scene still chuckle about John’s explanation of all this while he was being led outside….”I don’t know what happened…..Tom just wanted to hit me.”
All of this was put down, play by play style, in the margins of the scorecard. Some handwriting I don’t recognize, but it has girly loops and such, summed it up with a “Tom gets into fight with bitch and asshole two rows ahead!!!!” complete with multiple exclamation points.
This is one of those bleacher incidents that was largely forgotten by the next game, when John, Kathy, and myself could be seen huddled together, sharing laughs and swigs of booze out of a bottle that surreptitiously was bought on scene.
But it had an ugly offshoot at the end of the season, on a night everyone was waiting around the Stadium for playoff tickets. I already had mine – I was part of the “inside crew” but I went out there anyway to drink beer, pee in the park, and meet and greet on the line. I ended up running into Kathy and John, who were sprawled on a blanket drinking hard. They invited me to join them, and I took them up on it, and soon enough we were singing campfire songs and making general nuisances of ourselves. Well, you know what alcohol can do to people. Out of the blue, with no warning, Kathy stood up and came over to me and threw a punch. It was in regards to my cheap shot on John months before, apparently, which she apparently just remembered. I scrambled to my feet and started calling her the C word and stuff while John and a few other people simply trying to drink in peace got in between. She got her hands on a liquor bottle and threw it at me, missing badly, so I finally flipped her the bird and took my business elsewhere. But, like most bleacher incidents, this too was forgotten the next time I ran into the two of them, and that was the end of the acrimony between the 3 of us, as far as I know of.
The real problems started when John and his mustache would not get off of his phone. We were giving him all kinds of grief for it, but he was defending his actions as he was trying to “place a bet.” Any of you that know Kathy know that, when she has drinks in her, she could be, um, difficult. So she was barking right back at us, really making for a jolly atmosphere for all in earshot.
I think the real issue I had with that early bleacher power couple was simply John’s mustache. Some people were calling him “Kotter” by this time, even though Steve, who had never seen nor even heard of that show but decided to notate this for posterity wrote down “Gabe Commer on the phone”. People were also calling him Weird Al Yankovich which was a bit of a stretch. What he actually looked like was total Long Island guido, like he should be flipping pizzas or something.
It got really ugly when he yelled back at then bleacher stalwart Sandy when she took a stroll a couple of rows down to give him jack while he was on the phone with his bookie once again. He yelled right back at her. I was just looking for an excuse, and since Sandy had put me on the phone with her homeslice Roy White the game before, I owed her one. So I promptly staggered to my feet, lurched forward a couple of rows, and threw a half-punch/half-slap at Johns grill. You could hear the “bu-doink” of my cupped fist left ringing on his head. All kinds of scuffling sparked from this flashpoint, including Kathy trying to get at me, which would certainly not be the last time a girl with an agenda wanted to take some punches at good old Sheriff Tom out there. I am not sure how this was all quashed, although the bottom line ended up with my drunken ass being allowed to stay and Kathy and John being ushered on out of there.
To this day people that were on the scene still chuckle about John’s explanation of all this while he was being led outside….”I don’t know what happened…..Tom just wanted to hit me.”
All of this was put down, play by play style, in the margins of the scorecard. Some handwriting I don’t recognize, but it has girly loops and such, summed it up with a “Tom gets into fight with bitch and asshole two rows ahead!!!!” complete with multiple exclamation points.
This is one of those bleacher incidents that was largely forgotten by the next game, when John, Kathy, and myself could be seen huddled together, sharing laughs and swigs of booze out of a bottle that surreptitiously was bought on scene.
But it had an ugly offshoot at the end of the season, on a night everyone was waiting around the Stadium for playoff tickets. I already had mine – I was part of the “inside crew” but I went out there anyway to drink beer, pee in the park, and meet and greet on the line. I ended up running into Kathy and John, who were sprawled on a blanket drinking hard. They invited me to join them, and I took them up on it, and soon enough we were singing campfire songs and making general nuisances of ourselves. Well, you know what alcohol can do to people. Out of the blue, with no warning, Kathy stood up and came over to me and threw a punch. It was in regards to my cheap shot on John months before, apparently, which she apparently just remembered. I scrambled to my feet and started calling her the C word and stuff while John and a few other people simply trying to drink in peace got in between. She got her hands on a liquor bottle and threw it at me, missing badly, so I finally flipped her the bird and took my business elsewhere. But, like most bleacher incidents, this too was forgotten the next time I ran into the two of them, and that was the end of the acrimony between the 3 of us, as far as I know of.