This game is forever going to be remembered by me as the one that started with me wanting to throttle my seat mate and ended up with us both clutching each other, screaming "HOLY SHIT!" and jumping up and down joyously as popcorn and beer and plastic bags rained down.
Raul Ibanez can do that do a person.
But before he was clutch re-defined, the game was decidedly bleh. Like, aside from Jeter's game-tying triple, the crowd was out of it most of the night. Maybe because, oh, everyone in the lineup was just like, "Oh, hey, I think I'm in a playoff game. Let me try to hit home runs all night instead of try to get on base. And fail miserably." It was quite vexing.
Also vexing was the total testosteronefest Jen and I found ourselves sitting amongst. Seriously, I do not doubt these guys' loyalty to the Yankees but, MY GOD were they the most knee-jerky freakout and bitch-and-moan types I've ever sat around. It's pretty hard to retain a sense of calm when everyone around you is acting like the ship is sinking - and loudly, I might add. The guy next to me was all "THIS IS UNBEARABLE" when it was 2-1 in the 7th, and I turned to him and said, "No, unbearable is the late 80s early 90s. This is f***ing wonderful in comparison." He then admitted he was too young for those years, which, yeah, score one for old lady KB! This youthful ignorance was also the problem with the guys to our right, who actually began in-fighting at one point, when one guy chastised his friends for booing A-Rod because you want him to do well and booing isn't going to solve anything. I kept trying to make eye contact with this kid to be like "Right on, son," but he was too into his argument to take notice. Testosterone, you see.
By late in the game, more than a few people had vacated (ridiculous) and my young friend to my left was like "How can people leave?" and I was like "Maybe we should be glad no one started the wave," and he was like "Thank god for small favors." So we had something in common at least.
And we had even more in common when Ibanez came to the plate and we were both like "Whoa, Girardi's pinch-hitting for A-Rod" (seriously - as much as people booed him, this kind of threw everyone for a loop). Except we don't have that much time to be in awe of that decision because, goodness, that home run was a thing of beauty. The place went BATSHIT. I watched the highlights, and let me tell you, the TBS crowd mics did NOT pick up that loudness at all. The only other moment I remember that crazy-loud was Jeter's 3,000th. It carried into Sad Clown's at-bat. It was positively primal. I am not even joking. I think we all reverted back to some kind of barbarianism, such was our fierce screaming.
And then all I could think was "They canNOT lose this game. Please god, don't let them lose this game." Yet during the bonus cantos, the Yanks all seemed to revert back to panic mode and tried to do too much. And then we find out that Old Man Jeter's hurt, which, yeah THAT will put a damper on anything. I knew it was too much to think that maybe Ibanez could pull something out of his hat yet again, so I just decided I wanted him to get on base.
Then he swings at the first pitch, and I'm like "OhmygodthewindsgoingtoknockitdownohmygoditkeepsgoingohmygodOHMYGOD!!!!" And that's when bedlam erupted, and Jen and I are trying to jump in place and not fall and we started high-fiving all the young knee-jerkers and screaming and it was beyond epic. HOW did Ibanez do it?? I mean, I've seen the entire team turn in clutch moments, but I don't remember one guy doing it so many times in such a short period. Incredible is the only word I can think to describe it.
Also, I'll take 80's Movie Songs That Really Kind of Fit the Moment for 1,000, Alex.
Because really. Let's give the boy a hand, people.
