8.30.00 ANAHEIM ANGELS vs TORONTO BLUE JAYS
Well shit howdy. My wife was back east while I was at that Expos game. Her interview went well. The job sounded as good or better than those she’s looked at out here. Then the (borderline-ridiculous) offer came in the mail.
Friends, we’re moving to Rochester.
Suddenly, everything around me is imbued with the glow of a premature nostalgia
for this golden chapter of my life. Even, yes, Angel Stadium. The Angels were
to embark on a road trip that would carry them through most of the rest of
the season, and, as I’m not now sure that I’ll actually be here
when they return, I headed down to Anaheim for what might be my final chance
this year.
Damore met me across the street at the National Sports Grill, as per usual,
and we walked over for this match-up of Cy Young-candidate David Wells and
24-year-old La Verne native (he went to high school half a mile from my house)
Matt Wise. (From my…old…house. We’ll go back to find a new
one in a few weeks. Our new house will not be a 30-minute drive from both
a National and American League ballpark, which is something I’ve quite
enjoyed about this one, and finally, this year, taken something like proper
advantage of. Our new house will, however, likely be within a 30-minute walk
of an exceptionally pleasant International League ballpark, and, significantly,
within a day’s drive of a number of major league parks I have not visited
in my adult lifetime, including but not limited to those in Toronto, Pittsburgh,
Cleveland, Detroit, Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and even Cincinnati
and Chicago. So, should I keep it up, next year’s edition of this journal
could be quite interesting.)
Wise, who like his contemporaries on this surprising young Angels staff has
looked quite good over the last couple months, made it clear early on this
evening that tonight was not to be his night. His second pitch was knocked
into center field by Shannon Stewart, and Alex Gonzalez had little trouble
reaching safely on a bunt one pitch later. Brad Fullmer and Tony Batista then
touched up our home-town hero for consecutive home runs, giving the Jays a
quick 4–0 lead. By the time he left, with one out in the fifth, that
lead had increased to six.
Wells on the other hand was dominant, yielding only singles to Garrett Anderson,
Benjie Molina, and Mo Vaughn—the last of which was stretched into an
out when Mo decided to go for two—before leaving the game after five
innings with what we’d later learn was a tight shoulder. Still, it was
good enough to earn Wells his 19th win, which puts him on top in the majors
in addition to being his career best.
Damore and I ended up down near the home dugout, a few rows up from the camera
well and directly in front of a couple fairly obnoxious ten-year-olds. At
one point between innings Damore excitedly pointed to right field—“Look,
dude, we’re on the Jumbo-tron!” It’s one of those things you
always think about when you see people acting like morons upon discovering
themselves on the big-screen, what coolly clever reaction, or disinterestedly
snide expression, you’d affect if put in the same position. So Damore’s
yelling and pointing, and I look up, and there we are, sixty-some feet high,
and what do I do? Wave my arms and grin and shout like an idiot, naturally.
Jesus. What a sap.
FINAL SCORE: BLUE JAYS 11, ANGELS 2
MEMORABLE HECKLE: I think heckling season is over.
