
I was supposed to take Nolan to the Dodger game on Wednesday, but he opted to stay home and work on a history project, because he wants to get the best grade possible. "There will be a lot of Dodger games this year," he said on Tuesday, "but if I blow it on this project, I don’t get a second chance. I’m sorry we can’t go together."
Longtime readers of my blog know how that made me feel, and I’m still proud of him, three days later.
Since I already bought our tickets, I called my brother Jeremy and asked him if he’d like to go in Nolan’s place. He accepted, and we had an absolute blast at the game, even though the Dodger bullpen is painfully bad this year.
I blogged it, live-to-Molskine, and transcribed the whole thing at blogging.la:
7:47 PM – Navarro is up with the bases empty. I say to
Jeremy, "You know, not only can Navarro not make the throw to second,
he can’t hit, either." The words are barely out of my mouth when
Navarro slams the second pitch about 380′ for a solo homer. Jeremy
says, "Yes! Get angry at my brother, Navarro! Who’s up next? You also
suck!"7:50 PM – The kid in front of us to our left has a chocolate
malt with a wooden spoon-shaped thing. I guess the plastic spoon was
just user error. Whew.7:55 PM – Seo has a really great curveball.
7:58 PM – Piazza breaks up the no-hitter with a double to the
wall in center-right. Whatever. He’s still totally gay (not that
there’s anything wrong with that.) Jeremy blames me because I pointed
out that Seo had a no-hitter through four.8:01 PM – Middle of the 4th, and they’re doing that Coca Cola
answer a question and win a coke thing down on the field. The guy gets
it right, and a really hot girl walks off the field with him. I say,
"Hey, she thinks she’s getting his coke, and doesn’t even know it’s soda!" Jeremy says, "Yeah, she’s toatally a Coke whore." We think we’re the funniest guys in the world. High-five.8:06 PM – Kent is up with runners at the corners. I say to
Jeremy, "You know, the problem with Kent is that he’s really on the
downside of his career. Not only does he stuggle to turn two, he can’t
come through in the clutch with runners at the corners." I look down at
the field and say, "Your move, Mister Kent." Unfortunately, my
Navarro-fu doesn’t work and Kent is out.

