a history of me

Whoa, I made a banner! Photoshop rules!

I'm sure you're wondering why I've been updating so often. Is it my new commitment to put aside real-world tasks to maintain my blog? No, I've just had a lot more free time. One of the advantages (?) of having a shitty job where you don't feel like you're needed is, well, often you're not needed. So I had the luxury of watching an old baseball game on TV today, a game I actually attended and remember quite well.

Sunday, September 4th, 1993. Labor Day weekend. My life was in shambles. I had just flipped out and nearly flunked out of high school and I had been relegated to a "gifted handicapped" (my favorite oxymoron) program in another school district. To make matters that much more complicated, this was the start of my senior year, and that meant picking a college to go to. So I was leaving everyone I knew behind and I had no idea what was going to happen and I was about to make some huge decisions which I wasn't ready to make.

We (my mother, sister, and I) had purchased tickets for the game earlier that summer, but the weather that day was pretty ugly. Gray skies and drizzle made my mother question whether or not we should bother going. For those uninformed, the New York Yankees don't always win. In fact, at that time they were struggling just to keep pace with the defending World Champion Toronto Blue Jays. So Yankees' tickets were fairly inexpensive and easy to get, the complete opposite of what they are today. Thankfully, I insisted, as our seats were under the Loge level (third-base side, for those who care) and therefore we would not get wet. But there was a more important reason I wanted to go to the game: Jim Abbott was pitching that day.

To most of you the name Jim Abbott doesn't mean a thing. To me, he was a very big deal. I had become fascinated by Jim's story when he won 18 games with the Angels in 1991. I was thrilled when he came to Yankees in a trade and I remember clipping out a story on him from the New York Times on December 25, 1992. What was the big deal? Jim Abbott was born without a right hand yet he was a successful pitcher in the Major Leagues. How did he do it? He rested his glove on his stump, threw with his left hand and, continuing that motion, put his glove on his hand. I can't say exactly why I liked him so much. It's not like I'm missing a hand or anything. I guess I was just amazed that someone could overcome an obstacle like that.

The game ended up being a momentous one. The visiting Indians were a young team full of future All-Stars like Manny Ramirez, Jim Thome, and current Yankee Kenny Lofton. They made 2 errors on one play in the third that allowed the Yankees to score three runs, a score that ended up being more than enough. Aside from an occasional walk, Abbott shut the Indians down. None of them made it to second base, thanks to two double plays and some really exciting catches, especially one play Wade Boggs in the seventh. By then the whole crowd realized that a no-hitter was in the works so the response was huge. Mom wanted to leave late in the game but I convinced her we should stay. I was only 12 but I knew how rare a no-hitter is. We compromised by heading to the other side of the stadium where we parked without leaving the seating area so we could still see all the action. I remember after the final out everyone cheered and I don't know why but I got really excited and I hugged my mom right away. The final score was 4-0.

I think the whole day made me feel a little bit better about myself. Both teams would improve in the following years and the Yankees would end up kicking some serious ass in the World Series. I would not fare as well, nearly failing out of school again and laying an egg at college, but things are starting to look up now.

Whew...quite a lot to write. Aren't you glad I don't do this everyday?