I remember thinking to myself, "Whatever you do, don't swear. Don't say anything stupid. Don't hit on her." In just a few moments, as soon as the Indians were to make the 3rd out in the inning, my face would be plastered on the giant Progressive Field scoreboard in left. I was excited, but being three $11 jack and cokes deep, I was in the zone.
A few minutes earlier, I was returning to my seats in the mezzanine section in right field with my brother, having just waited for one of said jack and cokes. It was Jim Thome appreciation day, as earlier that day he signed a 1 day contract to formally retire as a member of the Cleveland Indians. His statue of him with his signature bat point was unveiled before the game. Jason Giambi even gave up his #25 uniform for the day so Thome could don it. I had made it a point in my life to attend all special Jim Thome events.
In 2001, I was at the game on Jim Thome bobblehead day. The good ol' days, where the corner of Carnegie and Ontario was more fondly referred to as Jacobs Field. A lefty started for the Sunday afternoon game for Detroit, leading the Indians to give Thome the day off, which crushed the 11 year old spirit in me. However, in the 9th inning of a tied game, Thome entered as a pinch hitter. Predictably, as he did countless times in his career, he... struck out swinging. My father used to tell me as a kid, "Shorten up with two strikes, make contact." I would always imagine Thome's majestic swing-and-misses on two strike pitches and admire the fact that he never changed his approach. His swing was his swing. Turns out, maybe I could've used my dad's advice, because I really was such a terrible baseball player. I mean, awful. But Thome hit 612 career homers, so I'd say it turned out OK for him. One of those home runs came just a few innings later on that late April afternoon, as Thome lined a laser beam to the lower deck in right field, sending me home with a smile.
In 2011, it was announced that the Indians had picked Thome up from waivers via the Minnesota Twins and he had accepted his assignment of joining the Indians for the season's final month. The team was technically still alive in the wild card hunt, but it was evident from the beginning that this was a courtesy move to the fans, as well as an opportunity for the young players on the Indians to learn from a future first ballot Hall of Famer. My friend, Jason, and I were in attendance for his first game back, where he hit cleanup. I'll never forget the 'Welcome Thome' signs being waved all over the ballpark when his name was announced. It was one of those moments where I really looked out and just savored the moment. We were on the home run porch in left, fighting with a sea of people along the fence to get a glimpse of our city's favorite all-time slugger. His name was announced, and a thunderous roar consumed the ballpark. Thome tipped his brand new clean Indians helmet (one of my favorite things about Thome in the 90s was his pine tar covered helmet so dirty you could barely make out the Chief Wahoo above the brim), to the crowd, took his time getting into the box, and... tapped a weak groundout on the first pitch back to the pitcher. He went hitless that day, but still produced in his second stint with The team that drafted him. The 40 year old man could still hit, putting up a .296 batting average in his 71 at-bats in Cleveland. He would go on to play one more season before retiring.
Which brings me back to this night in August, 2014. As I returned to my seat with my brother, I did the thing where you uncomfortably have to walk through people that are sitting in their seats without bumping the people in the row in front of you. There is like 4 inches of concrete for you to put your foot, doing so after a few jack and cokes feels like playing darts. Seriously people, stand up. I'm over 200 pounds, if I fall I could kill you. Anyways, I hear a young woman call out - "Hey! Excuse me."
I had just plopped my butt in my seat, but as I looked over my shoulder, I could see she was looking at me. To this day, my family berates me for not asking her out, insisting she only picked me because she thought I was cute. "Me?" I awkwardly asked. "Yes, do you want to play Deal or No Deal on the jumbotron?" I smirked. "Umm, yes," I said matter of factly, where I was led to a roped off section in the shade, with the hot dog mascots and women in brief cases waiting.
So they briefed me on the game, which I quickly realized I had no idea whatsoever how to play. It seems like a given, but when there are 40,000 people watching and you're a few drinks deep, you can easily make yourself look like a jackass and get booed out of the stadium. They're talking amongst themselves, getting in place when I ask, "Why did you pick me?" She responded, "Because of your Jim Thome jersey."
Finally, the game starts. They ask me if I'm ready and I reply that I am. A few seconds after, I could hear my own voice echoing throughout the entire stadium. It was a surreal feeling that I had the attention of 40,000 people. The game played out between innings, so it took a few segments to complete. I would hear applause when I picked a good number, and groaning when I did badly. Truthfully I had no strategy, I didn't even know what doing good in this game meant. I was too busy trying not to slur my words.
We get to the end of the game and she asks if I want to settle or go for the big prize. I scoff and of course go for the prize, in the process losing a few hundred dollars of prize money. I would have come away with $250, except that because it was Jim Thome statue night, I walked away with the full $1,000 prize. Are you fucking kidding me? And I got a sick hat. People applauded and high fived me. For 10 minutes I was a celebrity, and all because I wore my Jim Thome jersey.
A few minutes earlier, I was returning to my seats in the mezzanine section in right field with my brother, having just waited for one of said jack and cokes. It was Jim Thome appreciation day, as earlier that day he signed a 1 day contract to formally retire as a member of the Cleveland Indians. His statue of him with his signature bat point was unveiled before the game. Jason Giambi even gave up his #25 uniform for the day so Thome could don it. I had made it a point in my life to attend all special Jim Thome events.
In 2001, I was at the game on Jim Thome bobblehead day. The good ol' days, where the corner of Carnegie and Ontario was more fondly referred to as Jacobs Field. A lefty started for the Sunday afternoon game for Detroit, leading the Indians to give Thome the day off, which crushed the 11 year old spirit in me. However, in the 9th inning of a tied game, Thome entered as a pinch hitter. Predictably, as he did countless times in his career, he... struck out swinging. My father used to tell me as a kid, "Shorten up with two strikes, make contact." I would always imagine Thome's majestic swing-and-misses on two strike pitches and admire the fact that he never changed his approach. His swing was his swing. Turns out, maybe I could've used my dad's advice, because I really was such a terrible baseball player. I mean, awful. But Thome hit 612 career homers, so I'd say it turned out OK for him. One of those home runs came just a few innings later on that late April afternoon, as Thome lined a laser beam to the lower deck in right field, sending me home with a smile.
In 2011, it was announced that the Indians had picked Thome up from waivers via the Minnesota Twins and he had accepted his assignment of joining the Indians for the season's final month. The team was technically still alive in the wild card hunt, but it was evident from the beginning that this was a courtesy move to the fans, as well as an opportunity for the young players on the Indians to learn from a future first ballot Hall of Famer. My friend, Jason, and I were in attendance for his first game back, where he hit cleanup. I'll never forget the 'Welcome Thome' signs being waved all over the ballpark when his name was announced. It was one of those moments where I really looked out and just savored the moment. We were on the home run porch in left, fighting with a sea of people along the fence to get a glimpse of our city's favorite all-time slugger. His name was announced, and a thunderous roar consumed the ballpark. Thome tipped his brand new clean Indians helmet (one of my favorite things about Thome in the 90s was his pine tar covered helmet so dirty you could barely make out the Chief Wahoo above the brim), to the crowd, took his time getting into the box, and... tapped a weak groundout on the first pitch back to the pitcher. He went hitless that day, but still produced in his second stint with The team that drafted him. The 40 year old man could still hit, putting up a .296 batting average in his 71 at-bats in Cleveland. He would go on to play one more season before retiring.
Which brings me back to this night in August, 2014. As I returned to my seat with my brother, I did the thing where you uncomfortably have to walk through people that are sitting in their seats without bumping the people in the row in front of you. There is like 4 inches of concrete for you to put your foot, doing so after a few jack and cokes feels like playing darts. Seriously people, stand up. I'm over 200 pounds, if I fall I could kill you. Anyways, I hear a young woman call out - "Hey! Excuse me."
I had just plopped my butt in my seat, but as I looked over my shoulder, I could see she was looking at me. To this day, my family berates me for not asking her out, insisting she only picked me because she thought I was cute. "Me?" I awkwardly asked. "Yes, do you want to play Deal or No Deal on the jumbotron?" I smirked. "Umm, yes," I said matter of factly, where I was led to a roped off section in the shade, with the hot dog mascots and women in brief cases waiting.
So they briefed me on the game, which I quickly realized I had no idea whatsoever how to play. It seems like a given, but when there are 40,000 people watching and you're a few drinks deep, you can easily make yourself look like a jackass and get booed out of the stadium. They're talking amongst themselves, getting in place when I ask, "Why did you pick me?" She responded, "Because of your Jim Thome jersey."
Finally, the game starts. They ask me if I'm ready and I reply that I am. A few seconds after, I could hear my own voice echoing throughout the entire stadium. It was a surreal feeling that I had the attention of 40,000 people. The game played out between innings, so it took a few segments to complete. I would hear applause when I picked a good number, and groaning when I did badly. Truthfully I had no strategy, I didn't even know what doing good in this game meant. I was too busy trying not to slur my words.
We get to the end of the game and she asks if I want to settle or go for the big prize. I scoff and of course go for the prize, in the process losing a few hundred dollars of prize money. I would have come away with $250, except that because it was Jim Thome statue night, I walked away with the full $1,000 prize. Are you fucking kidding me? And I got a sick hat. People applauded and high fived me. For 10 minutes I was a celebrity, and all because I wore my Jim Thome jersey.
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