Gametime notes: Baltimore at Boston.

Despite the fact that David Wells can scare a runner back to the bag with one murderous look, he apparently hasn’t the coordination to step off the mound without pulling a muscle. Or, as Don and Jerry put it in a rather singsonglike listing: “Ankle, calf, hamstring, knee… groin?”
B. J. Surhoff got his Major League start in 1987, and he’s still poppin’ home runs out of the park.
Every time Brian Roberts is at bat, the song ‘Brian and Robert’ gets stuck in my head. If you’re just staring at your walls…
In the top of the ninth, a fan runs onto the field. Since the TV cameras don’t show him, we are left to imagine what the fellow looks like. On the mound, Halama sort of shakes his head, either bored or ashamed for the guy. When we hear what the commentators have to say, we suspect the latter.
“That guy needs to go to the gym badly,” Jerry quips. We at home laugh, imagining some fat dude running out onto the field in drunken glee. But Remy goes on:
“It looks like he, uh, should get that surgery they do,” he says, in conversational Rem-Dawg fashion. “You know, where they, uh, tie up your stomach.”
Mike and I look at each other. “They’re really laying into this guy,” Mike says.
“Alright, they’re escorting the fan off the field,” Don says in his perfect announcer voice, and we figure the taunts are over with. Our jaws drop when he follows this up with, “…as soon as they can find a door big enough.”
Shortly thereafter, flipping through the channels, Mike stumbles across some show which appears to pit contestants against one another in a battle of the belly and the bicep: competitors eat and then bike and then eat and then bike and then… “What is this?” I ask. “It appears to be some sort of cross between a pie-eating contest and a triathalon,” is Mike’s reply.
At the bottom of the ninth, B. J. Ryan’s on the mound, and I ask myself what the hell is with the Orioles and the BJs. Heh. Mueller seems to miss the entire point of pinch hitting by striking out, and Damon’s up. On his first swing, he sends the bat flying into the stands, almost striking a dude in a hot dog hat, who seems more thrilled than terrified. I give hot dog hat man a point. The Sox lose. The Celtics lose. It’s a real shit-show night for Boston.
At work this morning, I ask my coworker who was at the game about the guy who ran onto the field. I discover that he was:
a) fat
b) shirtless
c) over 300 pounds
d) hirsute
As they were escorting him off the field, some dude in the stands actually threw a shirt at him in a desperate attempt to clothe the man. What is more, they actually escorted him out through the garage door, making Don’s joke about “a door big enough” a bit more clear.
Let’s do better tonight.

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