New Yorkers flooded the city today as the Cubs played host to the Mets up north and the White Sox welcomed the Evil Empire to the Southside. This sudden influx of visitors was obvious as Mets fans and Yankees fans could be seen throughout the city stealing our cabs, spitting on our trains and jaywalking across major thoroughfares. As a friendly gesture to our northeastern brethren, we Chicagoans went to a lot of trouble to make them feel at home by dumping our garbage in the street, being rude to strangers and talking loudly on our cellphones no matter where we happened to be. It seemed to work quite well. When I came home after work I found a wayward New Yorker sitting on my stoop with a brown paper sacked bottle asking if I wanted to “see a card trick”.
It was a really neat trick.
But after the cacophony of Bronx and Queens accents I heard today, none was more apparent (nor as obnoxiously entertaining) as the world’s biggest Melky Cabrera fan, who somehow found a way to outbroadcast even the infamous Hawk and DJ combo during Comcast Sportsnet’s televising of the Yankees/White Sox matchup this evening. Now, let me just say that I have watched thousands of baseball games on television and never have I seen/heard/touched/loved something quite as mind-blowing as this guy.
I was having my milk and cookies (a baseball ritual for me) and the game was in the 4th inning. Melky Cabrera stepped to the plate to battle against Sox pitcher Jose Contreras. And then, out of nowhere, came the voice of a loud, obnoxious Melky fan — the Melky Man. Suddenly more audible than the commentary of Hawk and DJ, the Melky Man eventually drowned them out all together.
“Melky!” he cried. “Hey, Melky, it’s me!”
Okay. No big deal, right? So some fan got close enough to one of the on-field mics to be heard over the air. Except this guy was loud. Really loud. “Melky! Melky, he’s gonna throw you a fastball!”
“Melky, Melky, watch the forkball this time. The forkball!”
Kerrrrr-plunk. Contreras throws the forkball.
“Another forkball. Watch the forkball!”
Kerrrrr-plunk, Contreras throws the forkball again, Melky pops out.
And then it was over… until…
The 7th inning. Melky came to the plate and we heard: “Melky, I’m back“.
If you watch closely, this time you can see Melky glancing towards the stands behind him when the Melky Man sends his salutations. As if in an effort to thwart another long one-sided Melky Man conversation, Melky swung at the first pitch and knocked a basehit to left.
By the 8th inning, when Melky came to the plate again, milk was shooting out of my nose from my spontaneous outbursts of laughter:
“Melky, sounded like a strike to me, Melky,” said the Melky Man after a swing and a miss.
“Melky, it doesn’t look good, Melky,” said the Melky Man after Cabrera watched a ball go wide of the strike zone.
“That was a big swing, Melky,” said the Melky Man after a big cut.
“Melky, the count is one and two, Melky,” said the Melky Man when the count was 1-2.
Like myself, the Melky Man seemed to be really good at pointing out the obvious, pounding redundancies into the ground, and annoying the sh*t out of anyone within earshot. In other words, the Melky Man is a genius and if you go back and watch Melky’s ABs, I guarantee you’ll be snorting milk out of your nose and laughing your ^ss off too.
But what was even more hilarious than the Melky Man himself was CSNS’ complete disregard for its broadcast being hijacked by an outspoken lameball fan in the stands. Is this a common occurrence in New York? If so, I might have to tune in to more YES Network games and pass on the usual Three Stooges marathons.
And hey you, Melky Man, don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.