5.9.00 ANAHEIM ANGELS vs OAKLAND A'S
Of course, they can't all be fist-pumping, throat-savaging, nail-bitingly unforgettable evenings. (Last week's game was a good deal more exciting than my perfunctory “the game itself sucked” review let on; I was just too tired and bummed to go into it much more deeply than that.)
My friend Rob had one more night in town before returning home to Louisville, so we made plans to meet for an Angels-A's game. We bought the customary six dollar tickets out behind the bullpens, watched pitchers Ken Hill and Gil Heredia warm up, took in the first inning from afar and then headed down the first base line to watch the rest of the game, at which point something equally surprising and annoying happened: we got busted! No sooner had we sat down, in roughly the same place that I'd sat last time, than one of Anaheim's finest (and oldest, and least otherwise employed) asked to see our tickets. There wasn't much point in arguing with the guy, so we sheepishly walked back up the steps to try our luck on the other side of the field. Chagrinned, and additionally dismayed as we noted the security guards at every aisle checking tickets, we ended up sitting safely up underneath the second-level overhang near third base.
“They must've read your story,” Rob concluded. From our darkened vantage point we could see that the fleeting images from our prowl were real, and not merely paranoid delusions: nobody was getting down near the field without getting their tickets checked! On a night when the paid attendance barely cracked 15,000! Anaheim management, if you are indeed reading this, I've got news for you: even fewer people are going to pay to watch the Angels battle for the dubious distinction of being the least-bad team in the worst division in baseball if they can't do it from the good seats, okay? Jesus.
The game's one moment of interest came in the third inning when Hill crumpled to the ground after throwing a strike to Miguel Tejada. The guy just looked like somebody'd let the air out of him. Turned out he'd strained a muscle in his rib cage, but for all anyone knew, he could've suffered a brain aneurysm (that would be Ken Mercker, though, two days later—does anyone really doubt the Angels' curse?). Apart from that, and the commanding, seven-inning performance turned in by Heredia, this game was dull as dirt.
FINAL SCORE: A'S 5, ANGELS 2
MEMORABLE HECKLE: None. Angels fans suck.
