September 23, 2002

Neel's Latest: My Dad and I...

Neel's Latest: My Dad and I make a return appearance.

Posted by at September 23, 2002 02:26 PM
Comments

Instead of worrying about whether Garrett Anderson hits 60 doubles he ought to make sure the Angels don't channel thru Gene Mauch back to the '64 Phillies. Like Yogi said, 'It ain't over til it's over'

Posted by: Jack Tanner at September 24, 2002 07:21 AM

From Eric Neel's diary of 10/1/02...

"Throughout this diary I have mentioned my friend Matt and his dad Pete often. I spoke of their decades long devotion to the historically hapless Angels, a team that has never won a play-off of any kind. Of how their love of the Angels was both a catalyst and a manifestation of their love for one another. Of their 'hard-earned grins.'

In my entry of 9/23/02 I wrote: '...the Angels seem to be in a bit of a swoon now, three games off the pace with six to go, and I was thinking when I got up this morning that things are likely decided and that the story might be settled, at least until the playoffs begin.'

I blame myself. As a baseball fan, a southern Californian and most importantly a friend of Matt I should have known better than to presume the Angels would even be in the playoffs. I should have checked the standings. I would have seen that the Red Sox were six back with six to play and noted that the Sox had won the season series, 3-2.

Matt called Sunday morning, hungover, sad, angry, confused, scared. He spent Saturday watching Ryan Franklin of the Mariners bewilder Eckstein and Co. for eight innings of 1 run ball, sending the Angels to their seventh consecutive loss. But even more dispiriting was that Matt was there with his old friend, Scott Ross, a lifelong Red Sox fan, who spent the better part of the game drinking beer and vacillating between heckling the Angels and engaging in raucous score board watching as Tim Wakefield shut down the Devil Rays, en route to Boston's fifth consecutive victory.

By now, of course, you know what happened. While the Sox will try to lay to rest the taunts of 'Nineteen! Eighteen!’ Darrin Erstad will sit in a bar regaling strangers with tales of his exploits a punter on the '95 National Champion Cornhuskers.

And those hard-earned grins are now hard earned- grimaces.

Rest in peace, Donnie Moore."

Posted by: FatMan at September 24, 2002 08:29 AM

Oh, Fat ... As I've said before, I hope you bring your Bird Jersey Saturday so the Rally Monkey can fling poo at the Green target....

Posted by: Matt Welch at September 24, 2002 10:58 AM
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2002 07:21 AM

From Eric Neel's diary of 10/1/02...

"Throughout this diary I have mentioned my friend Matt and his dad Pete often. I spoke of their decades long devotion to the historically hapless Angels, a team that has never won a play-off of any kind. Of how their love of the Angels was both a catalyst and a manifestation of their love for one another. Of their 'hard-earned grins.'

In my entry of 9/23/02 I wrote: '...the Angels seem to be in a bit of a swoon now, three games off the pace with six to go, and I was thinking when I got up this morning that things are likely decided and that the story might be settled, at least until the playoffs begin.'

I blame myself. As a baseball fan, a southern Californian and most importantly a friend of Matt I should have known better than to presume the Angels would even be in the playoffs. I should have checked the standings. I would have seen that the Red Sox were six back with six to play and noted that the Sox had won the season series, 3-2.

Matt called Sunday morning, hungover, sad, angry, confused, scared. He spent Saturday watching Ryan Franklin of the Mariners bewilder Eckstein and Co. for eight innings of 1 run ball, sending the Angels to their seventh consecutive loss. But even more dispiriting was that Matt was there with his old friend, Scott Ross, a lifelong Red Sox fan, who spent the better part of the game drinking beer and vacillating between heckling the Angels and engaging in raucous score board watching as Tim Wakefield shut down the Devil Rays, en route to Boston's fifth consecutive victory.

By now, of course, you know what happened. While the Sox will try to lay to rest the taunts of 'Nineteen! Eighteen!’ Darrin Erstad will sit in a bar regaling strangers with tales of his exploits a punter on the '95 National Champion Cornhuskers.

And those hard-earned grins are now hard earned- grimaces.

Rest in peace, Donnie Moore."

Posted by: FatMan at September 24, 2002 08:29 AM

Oh, Fat ... As I've said before, I hope you bring your Bird Jersey Saturday so the Rally Monkey can fling poo at the Green target....

Posted by: Matt Welch at September 24, 2002 10:58 AM
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