Just another friendly playoff game...

Playoff games bring out an animal in me I never knew existed. We went to Game 2 of the Angels v. Yankees Division Series playoff game last night… and as my Husband likes to tell it, I was almost arrested twice for fighting. What, you don’t believe it? You think I’m this nice, sweet, shy, innocent woman… think again baby when it comes to my Angels. And no… I was not fighting with any Yankee fans either… except for the nasty look I threw at the Yankee fan sitting directly to my left when she clapped for a Yankee hit. That look shut her up though.

I honestly have no idea what came over me except for the fact that our seats were $68 a piece, and I was really nervous about the game hoping my Angels would win (which they did – YAY!) The first “incident” I honestly wouldn’t call a fight… it was more like me exchanging words with a drunken bimbo who decided the walkway in front of our seats was the perfect place to party and hang out! Our season seats are on the aisle in the second row of the terrace level behind the dugouts. We always have problems with people loitering on the stairs and/or in the walkway in front of our section in that they block out view of the game. The Ushers know this and are usually quite good at getting people to “move along”, but on occasion, we have to yell “Down in front please!” to get their attention to get out of our way.

So, there was this bimbo wearing an Angels tank top and a short mini skirt holding a plate of nachos who was blocking our view. I yelled loudly and politely three times, “Down in front please!” to which she turned around and said some gibberish in drunk like “fuck off” or “shut up” or something to that effect. Well, that was the wrong response for me, so I responded with something like, “Sit your ass down, or I’ll get the Usher to do it for you!” She turned around as if to hit me or say something else when the men who were hanging over her ever breast quickly moved her along to get out of our way. My Husband looked embarrassed and ready to crawl under our seats– but hey, it wasn’t like this was the middle of an inning, and I was trying to watch the batter at the plate.

Then, my next “incident” came around the end of the 7th inning. We had an older couple sitting directly behind us, and a young couple in front of us who from the look of it appeared to be at their very first baseball game ever. I think they were Angels fans because they were clapping for the Angels, but they did not wear any red (the Angels color) whatsoever. Sometime during the 7th inning, the guy in front of us stood up. This didn’t’ upset me because everyone in the section in front of him was on their feet and I was fine and could see around him. The older couple behind us picked up on my earlier cue and repeatedly said “Down in front” to get him to sit down. I was just about to turn around to them to inform them that their efforts were fruitless because after all, this was a pivotal inning in the game and it was a playoff game after all. I know this from personal experience in the 2002 playoffs. My Husband says he stood for all but 2 innings during Game 7 of the 2002 World Series. Heck, I was 9 months pregnant and supposed to be on bed rest for Game 1 of that 2002 series, and we stood for most of the game as well. But getting back to my story…

Just as I was about to inform the elderly couple that their shouts were useless, the idiot standing in front of us turned around and yelled to the old man, “I would sit, but this guy (referring to my Husband) keeps banging those sticks in my ears and its too loud!” What? Did you actually say that fans were being TOO LOUD during the 7th inning of a playoff game against the hated YANKEES? Are you fucking kidding me? NO, he did not really just say that! To which, I instantly opened my mouth and yelled, “What the fuck do you expect, this is the fucking playoffs!” He was obviously a pussy and had no real interest in baseball whatsoever, and no real understanding of the significance of playoff baseball. As I type it I still can’t believe he said we were being too loud. Gee, did he not realize that when they handed out thunder sticks as you walked into the game, they meant for the fans to get loud? Did he miss the huge “make some noise” signs on the advertisement marquee? If those two clues didn’t give it away right then and there that the fans needed to “get loud”, I don’t know what would. If he was that intent on watching the game in quiet seclusion, he should have stayed in the comfort of his home! Now that I think about it, he was drinking a sea breeze – the pussy!

But anyway, I don’t recall his response, but he did not look back the rest of the game. A few minutes later, I noticed my Husband was not using the Thunder Sticks, so I took them from him and proceeded with all my might to show my Angels my support. Again, that look of embarrassment and pain flashed from my Husband’s face. We’re lucky we won and got out of there quickly – I was fired up enough to really start opening a can of whoop ass on anyone that dissed my Husband and my Angels!

This afternoon I had lunch with my husband. I asked if I embarrassed him last night and he just laughed. “I hope you put it on your bog – it was hysterical!” I said, “I have no idea what came over me or why I was so obnoxious. I guess I was just stressed about winning the game.” To which he replied, “Yes, and that is why you are a true Angels fan.”

At least I made it home without needed to get bailed out of jail.

p.s. GO ANGELS!