Outdueled

I got to witness an all-time great pitching duel in a winner-take-all wild card game.

Unfortunately angry and ornery Madison Bumgarner

beat our lovable Thor who was equally as awesome, but a little less efficient, and therefore only pitched 7 innings.

I blame Terry Collins only slightly here, I would have given Thor a chance against the bottom of the Giants order in the 8th, even though he struggled in the 7th, because I knew Bumgarner would keep putting up zeroes.

I don't however blame the Mets strategy of swinging early in the count. They knew Bumgarner was going to throw strikes. If you don't swing, you're in a hole against a great pitcher. If you swing at least you have a a chance to get a hit on a good pitch.

It sucks to lose, and not have another crack at the Cubs, and it sucks to watch a team celebrate on our field for the second year in a row.
But it was a difficult season with a lot of injuries and realistically, they didn't have a good chance of beating the Cubs anyway.

But the hurt is still very real right now.
I suppose Noah Syndergaard put it best when he said on Twitter "Baseball has a way of ripping your heart out, stabbing it, putting it back in your chest, then healing itself just in time for Spring Training."
And I can't wait for spring training because maybe, just maybe, next year will finally be our year.

Sherman Had a Better Time in Atlanta

When Billy and I were skyping during the Syracuse-Marquette regional final (as we often do during Syracuse games) and it became clear Syracuse was going to Atlanta, we debated whether we should join them. Billy was gung-ho and steadfast on going solo if I didn't join him.
Eventually I was persuaded and we immediately hopped on vividseats to get our tickets. Vividseats is a little better than stubhub and generally has cheaper ticket prices. We decided to spend a little more to get seats in the 200 level. Our seats were $305, and after the ridiculous, borderline-criminal fees, they came out to $390, but I think stubhub would have been similar.
Then I booked my flight, which I got for $550 because I was willing to stop and change planes in Charlotte. For the record, Billy drove to Baltimore to get a cheaper flight, but he flew direct.

I took the NJ Transit train, switched at Secaucus, and went right to the airport. It actually was pretty convenient and a lot easier than finding someone to drive you.

Flight to Charlotte was delayed slightly but I still had plenty of time to catch my plane. I found my gate and it was easy enough to spot because everyone there was wearing either orange or yellow. The gateside seating area was literally segregated. One creepy 30-ish Michigan guy was kicking it to every young Michigan girl who looked like a student. Unfortunately the seating on the plane was not as well-designed. I was in a 3-person row on the window, with a fellow Syracuse person on the aisle, but a fat dude with a yellow hat sat in between us. The conversation was mostly pleasant and there was no incident.

We go to the airport and hopped on the shuttle to our hotel, the Courtyard Marriott. Little did we know there was a Courtyard North, South and West, all in the area by the airport. So we got on the wrong shuttle, to the wrong hotel but eventually got to the correct one, checked in quickly and headed right back town. That required getting back on the shuttle to the airport and taking MARTA from there.

Marta is pretty good as big city mass transit systems go. Everything is arranged around a junction called 5 points, everything meets there. The airport is south, so you gotta go about 15 minutes north through College Park (made famous by Luda) to 5 Points, then one stop over the Georgia Dome, Phillips Arena, Olympic Centennial Park and CNN Center.

So we got off there and went to the game, which you can read about in a separate post.

After the game, downtrodden and devastated we went back to Marta, caught two incredibly packed trains and made our way back to the airport to catch a shuttle to the hotel. The train was absolutely packed, so much so that we got delayed because someone was blocking the door. At least that's what they told us the first time. Then they said someone was leaning on the door. Then they said police were conducting business on the train. Huge delays in a packed train, after midnight, after losing the game. Unpleasant. It took about an hour to get back to the airport at which point we engaged in a pushing and shoving match with a huge crowd to get on the shuttle back to our hotel. I won and got a nice seat in the back, Billy lost and barely made it on the bus.

I was seated next to a couple of SU students who had driven down on Friday (18 hours in one day). They relayed to me their horrible experience at the game. Each team had a big student section right behind the basket, and when the first game ended they cleared out Wichita State's and brought in Michigan's and Syracuse's moved to where Louisville's was. So during the first game, the Syracuse students were herded into a convention center across the street and given tickets. Towards the end of the first game they were let into the Georgia Dome into an empty section. When the game ended the students ran for any seat regardless of assigned ticket. This poor girl, from the Five Towns (so probably one of ours) didn't get a seat and had to stand under the basket to watch the game. But she said, it would have all been worth it had they won. That must have been a miserable 15 hour car ride back to Syracuse.

The next morning Billy and I tried to salvage some semblance of fun from our trip so we headed back downtown to find a Waffle House. A real Southern tradition, Sunday morning breakfast at the Waffle House. We found one that looked nice enough but the neighborhood must not be that great, because the menu said we would be charged a 20% security fee on our bill. And Billy and his tiny bladder had to be buzzed into the bathroom.



Our waitress was so nice, and I felt badly that she had to work in what I presumed was an unsafe hellhole, so I gave her a 100% tip on my $5 meal. People definitely are different down south. Everyone was so much nicer. Low wage, menial task employees in New York would have been rude and disinterested. In Atlanta everyone we saw was friendly and helpful, going out of their way to help us, including the Waffle House employee who walked outside with us to show us how to get to CNN Center.



Obviously I had heard a lot about the place in my 8.5 years there, but had never visited it, so it was a cool experience, even though I wasn't able to connect with any friends for a behind the scenes tour. CNN Center has a mall on the ground floor where there was a giant bracket.



There was also a Braves team store. Braves fans are so stupid they need a t-shirt to teach them how to do the tomahawk chop.



Then we walked through the shops and bought a little souvenir for Mrs. Poop and AliNatPro.



Then we went into the huge convention center where they were hosting Bracket Town, basically a huge fanfest. $10 to get in, but well worth it, because we got to:

See Christian Laettner, but we didn't have time nor motivation to wait on line for his autograph.



Pretend to cut down the net (scissors were glued shut)



Posterize me (I let Billy be the dunker, even though his pit stain is repulsive)



Pose for a picture with the rest of the team



But then it was time to go home. We took the train back to the airport and parted right before security, the lines for which were ridiculous. I was actually late to my flight, one of the last people on, so late that they stewardesses had a list of people missing, it was me, and the two people next to me. Just when I thought I might have the entire row to myself a woman gets on with a 1-year-old kid, and a 4-week old baby. And she didn't have the car seat. So she had to hold the baby and and a stewardess had to hold the older boy. For the whole flight this stewardess did nothing but hold this lady's kids. And why the fuck would you take a 4-week old from Atlanta to St. Louis? What the fuck is so important? Thankfully the kids didn't cry and disturb the entire flight.

When I got to Charlotte I had almost two hours to kill, so I sat down for some traditional carolina BBQ. That thing next to my cornbread is a fried pickle.



There was an EA Sports store and it had a Robert Griffin III jersey shirt for $20, so I bought it. I didn't notice a tiny hole on the shoulder. Tried to contact the company and they didn't respond. Never buy shit at the airport.

I made it home safely and spent the last week or so contemplating the trip. It sucked because they lost. No getting around that. I would not have gone had I know they were going to lose. But I didn't know, I took a chance. I had a nice time seeing a city I had never seen before, rooting on my team in an important game, experiencing something I may never get to experience again. And I did it all with my best friend.



So I guess the trip wasn't that bad.

Stormy Weather

The storm of the century wasn't as bad as expected, thankfully. Because even in a diminished capacity Hurricane Sandy was a bitch. Almost the entire coast from North Carolina to New England got demolished, and many areas were completely destroyed, including Seaside Heights. Maybe God really did just catch up on Jersey Shore on his DVR and decided to wipe the place out.
Personally, I'm angry at New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg. I think he is an authoritarian dictator who think he knows better how you should live your life. He shut down the NYC mass transit system at 7pm on Sunday, a full 24 hours before the storm was expected to make landfall.
As a result the entire city was shut down all day Monday for no good reason. The New York Stock Exchange could have been open until 1pm. I realize he didn't want people to come to work and get stuck in the city if trains and tunnels and bridges had to be shut down. But his job is not to protect us from ourselves. Not when it comes to hurricanes and not when it comes large-size soft drinks.
If I were a teacher, or a stock broker, I might have enjoyed this government-granted mini-vacation. But the news never rests, so I had to come to work. I was offered a hotel for Sunday night but decided to forgo it and take my chances coming into the city Monday morning. I made a wise decision. Not only was the weather not bad, there were no cars on the road.
Leaving after work would have been possible, but getting back in would not have been, so I was forced to stay at a hotel, the Westin in Times Square. It is directly adjacent to Cheetah's, which was closed. So the strippers get the day off, but I have to work.
I went up to my room, read for a while, watched my guilty pleasure TV show (Dan LeBatard is Highly Questionable) as well as PTI, and then went to the hotel bar for dinner with a couple co-workers.
Now if you run a hotel bar in Times Square it's unlikely the guests often eat there, they'd rather adventure out into the city. But in this case, the hotel bar was the only game in town, so everyone was there. They set up tables outside the restaurant in the lobby. The service was terrible, but it helped kill an hour and a half. At 7:30 I ran across to Duane Reade to get snacks. It was barely drizzling.

I went back to my room to watch the Final Table of the World Series of Poker Main Event, live and unedited on ESPN2. And to eat the Skittles I had just purchase. I really enjoy these rare opportunities I get to watch poker like this and I am beyond furious that because of the power outage which happened at about 7pm, my DVR couldn't record the entire thing while I slept.
Mrs. Poop was watching a movie with the kids at the time and Julian didn't understand why Cars 2 turned off in the middle and his mommy refused to put it back on. Luckily she fed and bathed the monsters earlier, so all she had to do was put them to bed. In the morning she went to work and took the kids to a friend's house where the power was still on.

When I woke up in the morning, it wasn't raining, it wasn't windy. But no one was out. Not a car or a pedestrian in sight as I walked to work through Times Square.