Post-season accollades...

Congrats to David Wright and Carlos Beltran for earning their second and third respective golden glove awards. Quite an accomplishment given the number of decent third and center fielders in the game. If only for each golden glove a team received translated into a slash in the win column. Then the entire post-season script would have been rewritten and we would have celebrated as our team rode over the Verrazano bridge waving their bats to a Killers anthem. (Who, by the way, are coming to NYC January 25th.)


Oh well, there's always next year.

Wordless Wednesday...

Dear Santa,

Due to the nature of the corrupt leaders, businesses and people in recent times, I am led to believe that my own, personal actions over the past year qualify me to be a viable candidate for the "nice" list. Please consider my Christmas list, which can be found below. The items are in no particular order.

Should you have any problems with the files or have trouble locating any of the items, please do not hesitate to contact me.

Thank you so much for your time and enjoy your day!
Shan

...updated for 2009, of course...

Is it just me...

...or should the Mets have won the World Series?

A good friend of mine sent me this email response today: "Hey thaanks... At the paradwe! Whop whoopam talkt oy iu soon!"

I was quite jealous. #1 – because she was not at work but having a beer (or two…or three) and #2 – she was at the Phillie's phreakin parade and I was not at the Mets parade instead.

So let me be a good sport here and give a quick shout out to all my friends, colleagues and acquaintances who are basking in the success now of their favorite team (albeit they may have only begun to root for them a mere 72 hours ago). Enjoy it, savor it, wallow in it, if you will. You have finally broken out of the deep dark abyss Joe Carter created for you 15 years ago.

Labor Day weekend...

Ahhhh, labor day weekend. Good bye summer - hello autumn. Best time of the year for any sporty and sparkly chick. Not only do we get the pennant races of baseball, but it is also the start of the pigskin races. So much speculation during the months of September and October:

• Who's winning the wild card race?
  
• The Mets have to win the NL East the way those Brewers are playing. (Gotta shout to a former Met fave - Mike Cameron, who has been holding his own this past season despite a small setback.)
  
• Who is the most overrated team in the NFL?
• Heck, the Jets have a good chance of sneakin in the playoffs with the beefed up O-line and Favre-daddy calling the shots
• Where are my knee-high leather boots?
• No better day than a brisk run, then dressing in sweater, tight jeans and boots to watch College Gameday and finishing off with a Mets nightcap.

So here's to hanging up the bikini and bringing out the tweed caps and to the J-E-T-S Mets Mets Mets!

"Shea"ing goodbye...

On Friday night 3M so kindly gave my dad two tickets to the Mets game. Dad ended up taking me. What started out as a great game with beautiful weather, a heck of a battle on the mound (Santana vs. Oswalt) and Latina Fiesta promotion to boot, turned out as a sob fest. (FYI - Mets won 3-0...with a Wright blooper RBI single to score Reyes and a two-run shot by Schneider with Churh on base - his first game back since being knocked around.)

Walking out of the stadium, looking up at the illuminated outline of a catcher, my eyes filled with water. I couldn't help but to thank my dad (and Shea) for 18 years of memories. My first game there was at seven years old and, since then, my father has made it a point to take me to Flushing at least once a year. Most games I couldn't tell you who was pitching or even the score, but what I can tell you is that I went with the greatest dad in the world [what a sapp I'm being] and that I had a wonderful time.

And the memories, ah, there are memories galore. Like when he couldn't find a parking spot and we parked on the street in front of a store called "Toys 'F Us" No, that wasn't a bulb that stopped worked, it was the letter "F".

Or when we sat in the row right behind the clock in right field and we put our sodas on top of the clock and an usher came over and told us to take them down.

Or when I wore [gulp] one of those orange and blue striped cat-in-the-hat hats and insisted my picture get taken by the Todd Hundley banner. [Um, yeah - I may have to burn that photo...]

Vic the quick...

One of the best parts of watching the Mets on SNY is the commentator staff. Gary, Keith and Ron are a trifecta that only Neapolitan ice cream can match (and even with that comparison, there is always one element that is fills 3/4 of the carton when the other two are licked clean...)

During today's broadcast, a foul ball was hit into one of the radio booths. The announcer tossed it down to a fan in the mezzanine level, who upon dropping it into the screen below, got booed by the loyal boo-birds aka Mets fans.

As the ball slid down the screen atop the lower level seats, the ball boy quickly ran out onto the field and scooped it up no sooner than it hit the field below the backstop. Such a motion was picked up by the crafty SNY crew and thus the moniker "Vic the Quick" was born. Love it.

Also, we can't mention Victor without giving some love to ball boy Matt, too. Three-fourths into the season and those white pants are lookin' a bit loose thanks to all the hustling throughout the year.

Geez - after proofing this I realized almost failed to mention the best, most insightful sidelines reporter of all time: Kevin Burkhardt. This guy went from updates and the overnight shift to selling cars to 660 to SNY. Talk about a comeback story.

Passions...

Although the season premiere of The Hills last night was less-than-impressive, minor leaguer Doug Reinhard is going to get some play. (You know that name, KRoss? Where'd he go to college?)

Usually Lauren Conrad (or LC to those who were there from the beginning) occupies her Friday and Saturday night with fellow socialites; however, this season, she is smitten with a Aberdeen Ironbird. I have to give her props this year for her potential love interest. Even though Doug, brother of "the new girl" Casey from Laguna Beach had a foot in the door, LC can't be blamed for her attraction to him. Minor leaguers have one quality that is very attractive in a man - they are passionate about their profession.

Much like those third and fourth-stringers who made the August roster of an NFL team, the free agents who get in only during the final minutes of a preseason football game. Fighting tooth and nail and sacrificing if only to be named to the practice squad in the fifth week because his body type resembles a particular opponent's, they deserve all the credit in the world. They have passion, a quality that is so many times hard to find.

EXtreme Dating (Mets style)...

Completely unintentional of the later situation, I decided to work from home today. We have a virtual office, which makes it so easy to get as much work done as if I was, indeed, in the office. It was just one of those unmotivated mornings. I had checked my email early and got into a rhythm that just could not be interrupted by a shower. So the email to the boss followed.

It happened to be quite the perfect day to stay at home as the Metropolitans took on the Pirates for a Businessman's special. Although the lack of effort by the bullpen was apparent (again...) I actually missed the three go-ahead runs by the Bucs. You see - I was flipping back and forth to the innovators of reality TV - the dating shows. What was once shown only at like 11pm (they can be quite risque) can now be seen during Verizon Fios' daytime lineup. (Also want to give a shout to my fave reality show of the moment - The Hills, which premieres tonight on MTV at 10pm! Woo hoo!)

Back to the dating shows - a show that 3M turned me on to, EXtreme dating features a very familiar host, especially to those of us who can smell the pigskin in the air right about now. Before she was forecasting the weather on FOX Football Sunday Jillian (Barberie) Reynolds was the quick witted host of this very classy show. Now that I think about it, Julie Alexandria (host of SNY's Beer Money) was also on the entertainment side, hosting the pop culture internet show WallStrip. Now, I'm not implying that these women don't have talent - but what are their true credentials? How do they land these top roles in the sport industry? How many women lost out, how many women with a strong sports knowledge base had no chance, because of the superficial nature of our society? The power to turn heads is often times stronger than the power to lend ears.

Growing up in Pennsylvania doesn't make it exactly easy to be a Mets fan. Before the days of GameDay on MLB.com, satellite TVs and MLB packages, the only means to tuning in to a New York game was by listening to its flagship station, Sports Radio 66 - The Fan!, WFAN New York. [Did you sing along the jingle as your read the type?] My dad, an avid fan, followed The Fan religiously. At a young age, I didn't quite appreciate talk radio, but maybe the poor reception was to blame.

Where we grew up, there were a lot of farms. And cows. And tractors. And, although I must give props, because the area has been built up quite nicely as of late, the area still is not too susceptible to an AM frequency from the NYC. Still, my father, the faithful, loyal guy he is...would always have 660AM tuned in. Once the static kicked in, he knew exactly where it would break ['Dadddd, this is so annoying, just turn it off!', 'Just wait until we cross the bridge, it get better over there']. He was happy for even 15 seconds of audible air, just to hear the pitch count or who was at bat so he could make an educated guess whether the Mets got out of the previous inning unscathed.

I remember listening to Mike and the Mad Dog with him and learning Chris Russo and Mike Francesa's names at an early age. My dad would always chuckle to himself and say, 'these guys, they're nuts, aren't they.' Of course a rhetorical question referring to the show's pit-bull like rants and tactics. (Here's a random fact - Mike and the Mad Dog averaged 659,000 listeners per week since its debut.)

So, to say the least, the split between Mike and the Mad Dog is a sad one. Sometimes, people have to go their own ways, but in the metropolitan sports world, they will surely be missed.

Also, how bout Mike Phelp's freakin finish [such a sucker for alliteration] in the 100 fly last night?! Wow. And, the funny thing is, when you are an 8 and under, learning the techniques of to complete a finish - you are taught to stretch out, reach and extend - not to take that one last, short stroke.