Game #3: A's 9, Yankees 4

April 5, 2006 | A's vs. New York

Steve and I are finally at a game together after a long while. You see, Steve has this thing where, if he goes to two games in a row with the same person/s and the A's lose both times, he finds someone else to go with. Last year Steve and I went to two games within the first two weeks of April. The A's lost each time. "Bye, Wella! See ya next year!" Tonight's victory over the Yankees is a good sign for superstitious types like us.

We sat in Section 110 Row 27 Seats 6 & 7 which meant we were surrounded by Yankees fans. You know, I've come to begrudgingly respect the Yankees in the last couple of years, but their fans are simply obnoxious. This evening they were particularly arrant. A couple of rows ahead of us, a young woman carried a DV camera with built-in microphone and videotaped the Yankees fans on her row as Matsui homered in the 2nd inning. I know for a fact that you need prior permission to bring a video camera into a major league stadium; this woman had some kind of pass dangling from her neck. What was this about? I don't know. I certainly wasn't going to ask.

These Yankees fans and their kindred in the vicinity organized themselves very well in chanting "Let's go Yankees!" By contrast, A's fans are quiet. I dunno. I think it's a Bay Area thing. We play it cool. We're not gonna get that crazy. It's only sports.

Or so I told myself when the Yankees had 4 runs and we had zip at the top of the third. Steve and I chat. My attention drifts away from the game. . .

Then, at the bottom of the 4th, the bases are loaded and Milton Bradley comes up. "Come on, Bradley, make me love you," I say quietly from my seat. I don't shout; he need not hear me. Milton knows what I need. He singles, two runs score, and Milton Bradley is officially an Oakland Athletic in my eyes.

Other memorable moments:

• Bases loaded and my man Milton draws a walk and the score is tied, 4-4.
  
• The guys sitting to my left weren't boisterous, but they were all in navy blue. They silently leave in the bottom of the 8th when Thomas doubles and the score is 9-4, A's. "Thanks for coming," Steve says.
• The photographable Yankees fans in front of me are subdued when the A's tie, take the lead, then pile it on. To her credit, the camera-toting woman continues to videotape their sullen reactions. Meantime the rest of us A's fans are on our feet, high-fiving one another.
  

While I toy with the idea that my choice of T-shirt or my seat assignment can influence the team's losing a game, I truly don't believe that my clapping or cheering any louder will make Haren throw a strike or Chavy hit a homer. Really, I don't. I cheer only because I'm happy or excited. If the A's win, it's because they played well. If they lose, it's because I sat in that godforsaken bleacher section or wore my Crosby shirt too many games in a row. Tonight, Oakland played way better than the Yankees. And Steve and I plan to go to another game again soon.

Postscript: "tanner boyle" was also at this game. He has fantastico seats right behind the A's dugout and after the game, emailed me,"After Bradley scored in the eighth, he was walking back to the dug out and right outside the dugout he let out a short scream that kind of caught me off guard. Just a short blast of fire from Milton Bradley. He was pumped up and he wanted that run bad. ...[W]e were kind of shocked by his display (we never hear anything from the players) but then we agreed that the A's, since we have been paying attention, have never had a player who played with that kind of passion/anger. You can tell he wants to win VERY badly. Exciting stuff."