Well, last night's game was a hot mess, both literally and figuratively speaking. Aside from the early outburst of runs and the complete randomness of DeWayne Wise trading the outfield for the pitcher's mound and doing better than the other relievers, there was not much to write home about. Which is probably why Steph and I were able to amuse ourselves in the quite well via song. I mean, we needed to distract ourselves from all the joys of swampy ass, you know?
Like when all the other "hot summer songs" had been used up by the Stadium scoreboard crew and and Steph muses, "On a hot summer night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?" (Which, sidebar, how freaking cute would it be if you saw a wolf walking around with a bouquet of roses in its mouth? Like, I'd just assume he was going to impress his ladywolfriend, instead or taking down a buffalo or something, which is totally thoughtful of it. I know I'm supposed to read all the sexual undertones in the lyric or something, but come on now.) Which begets a discussion of the merits of Meat Loaf and "Paradise by the Dashboard Light," which is quite Yankee-centric, given that Meat Loaf is apparently a Yankees fan and Phil Rizzuto cameo-ed on said song.
Or when the scoreboard people get all patriotic when they show two soldiers at the game and they play "Pink Houses" and the two of us rock out on the "Go to work in some high-rise and vacation down at the Gulf of Mexico!" (Ooh, yeah) That got us through an inning change nice and good. Because when the game is bordering on 3.5 hours and it's 90 something degrees in the dark and the breeze has stopped blowing and the runs have stopped coming, it's the little things.
But the best part was whenever Andruw Jones would do something awesome, and the scoreboard lovingly refers to him as "Mr. Jones," which brings up this, and it's been stuck in my head ever since.
I think whenever he does something good from now on, I'm going to say "Pass me a bottle, Mr. Jones." Let's make it happen.