
When I heard about the home-run last night I started thinking about those epic battles between the Yankees and the Cleveland Indians a decade ago when the Indians were such tough opponents. Thome was on those teams, and whenever he came up to bat I cringed. He'd stand in the batter's box holding his bat straight up and down with his left hand, his "at-bat" face firmly set, looking as if he was communicating telepathically to the pitcher, saying, I've got your number, pal. He would then go into his stance and, more often then not, do some serious damage to a pitch delivered by a Yankee hurler. He'd run around the bases on those piano legs of his and I would, once again, be tempted to throw the remote across the room.
Thome is still a dangerous hitter but, from all accounts, a great big sweetheart as well. I wasn't surprised to hear that there will be no debate or long, drawn out negotiation between him and the fan who caught the home-run ball. The fan will get season tickets (which he'll actually donate to Thome's charity) and Thome will get his ball. Nice stuff.
In other news: After a bad time at work last night there was no way I was going to turn on the Yankees-Red Sox game. But I heard about the heroics of Captain Clutch and the Yankee win. The war is finally over. Hooray. Will there be a seven day one next month? We'll see.
The Lady
[Photo: Jerry Lai/AP]
No comments:
Post a Comment