The New York Yankees Are For Real

  The Stanley Cup Finals—it looks like the Colorado Avalanche will win. The Golden State Warriors won the NBA title and pundits are already asking if they will repeat (Are you kidding me—no!). The NBA Draft happened. Oh, and the baseball schedule continued its meandering to October.

For me, I had something different happen. I actually went to Yankee Stadium on Thursday night for a match up between the hated Houston Astros, AL West leaders, and the home standing New York Yankees, AL East frontrunners, possessing the best record in baseball. This was the opener of a four game series between the two American League powers. 

I know I was a bit excited. I had all my Yankees gear ready—shirt, jersey and hat. Plus a rain jacket in case the rain of Thursday crept into the evening—it did, but I was safely under cover. 

Two bitter rivals squaring off. On the train ride to the Bronx, the tension was palpable. Yankees fans were voicing their dislike for the diminutive Jose Altuve, the great hitting second baseman for the Astros. The animus that the fans have for Altuve dates back to the sign-stealing scandal which enveloped the Astros in 2018, when they took down the Yankees in the ALCS. Altuve was believed to have been wearing a device which would have alerted him about the next pitch Yankees closer Aroldis Chapman would throw. If the Astros truly cheated, it worked, because Altuve slugged a decisive homer off Chapman. 

The chanting picked up steam on the train. Then the racket increased at the 161st Street station. It echoed throughout the gleaming interior of the stadium. The noise got louder when the starting lineups were announced. Even in a half-filled ballpark as game time approached. 

For the opening game, the pitching matchup looked to be first-rate. Houston’s Framber Valdez entered the contest with a 7-3 record while the Yankees countered with Jameson Taillon on the mound; Taillon was 8-1 for the season. Both pitchers entered the game with an E.R.A. under 3.00. 

First up was Altuve. The vile rant greeting him cascaded from the upper deck, enveloping the second deck, where I sat, reaching the playing field in a crescendo of banality. When Taillon plunked Altuve with a pitch, the masses were giddy beyond reason. The fact that Altuve slowly went to first base, apparently stung hard by the pitch, made the scene even more dramatic. Surprisingly, no warnings were issued by the umpires to thwart further hostilities. 

Altuve looked fine when DH Michael Brantley singled. He looked even better when third baseman Alex Bregman, another supposed cheater who heard it from the crowd, loudly deposited a Taillon pitch into the grandstand. 3-0 Astros. Would the vaunted New York Yankees, possessing a 51-18 record before Thursday night’s tilt, a team which came from behind on Wednesday night with a barrage of homers including a monster shot off of Aaron Judge’s bat that cleared the high catwalks of Tropicana Field, be on the ropes so soon against a worthy foe?

Taillon settled down for the moment. In the bottom of the first, Valdez looked rocky when he faced lead off batter D.J. LeMahieu, walking the Yankees third baseman on four pitches. Judge had a solid at bat, fouling off two pitches directly behind him, a sign that he was just missing connecting with Valdez’s offerings. Which was evident by his hard single to left field.

First baseman Anthony Rizzo couldn’t do anything in his first at bat against the Astros lefty. But slugger Giancarlo Stanton surely did. Mired in a very deep slump and making meager contact with pitches he faced in prior at bats, Stanton broke out of his slumber by unleashing a bomb which landed in the second deck in right field, an impressive poke to the opposite field. The score was now tied at 3.

Valdez collected himself. Taillon struggled some more. In the third inning, Astors left fielder Yordan Alvarez, second behind Judge in home runs, uncorked a vicious line shot into the lower field field grandstand, plating three runs. Now it was 6-3 Houston and things didn’t look particularly good for the New York faithful. 

Taillon had his worst game of the season, surrendering 10 hits and six runs in 5.2 innings. Valdez kept the Yankees at bay, limiting the Bombers to the two first inning hits by Judge and Stanton over 6 innings.

This Yankees team has very little quit in them. They had eight come-from-behind victories this season heading into the Thursday night affair. 

Nonetheless, they looked tired and in a funk until Rizzo manufactured on of the greatest at bats I have ever seen. In the sixth inning, lefty facing lefty, Valdez attained a one ball, two strike count versus the New York first baseman. That’s when Rizzo fouled off ball after ball—11 in all, before drawing a walk in a 16 pitch masterpiece of hitting. He tired out Valdez, who appeared to be coasting to a seven inning thwarting of the Yanks. 

Valdez would come out after that improbable inning, still ahead by three. But Rizzo altered the pitching regimen for the Astros and sent a message to his teammates that we don’t give up.

He doubled upon on that in the bottom of the eighth inning when he smashed a liner to the right field wall, where only a great grab by right fielder Kyle Tucker prevented the Yankees from starting a rally against a really good Houston squad. 

Through eight innings, New York relievers managed to shut down the Astros after their early outburst. While Altuve endured the venomous rants of the crowd, he managed to collect 3 hits in his night and make an outstanding play on a ferocious one hopper struck by Judge, one registering over 118 m.p.h. exit velocity which staggered the second baseman before he threw to first base to record the out. Altuve also made a different kind of put out on what would have ben a routine first baseman to pitcher covering the bag toss, catching the ball and stepping on the base when Valdez arrived too late. Say and think what you want, he is an incredible talent, even if he will forever be vilified by Yankees fans.

With Rizzo’s loud out, the party to who the tickets belonged to decided that we needed to leave. The Yankees, despite keeping the game in hand, had still not gotten a hit since the first inning. Moreover, one of the plights of New York night baseball for New Jerseyans was befalling us. Beholden to trains, the schedules change after 11:00 p.m.

It had been an eventful evening. Besides the plays I mentioned, a foul ball landed two seats in front of me. I was ready. Also, I saw Le Mahieu tagged out by the catcher on a ball which bounced up at home plate. And the infield fly rule was called on a pop fly caught in foul territory. Some unusual things.

Except that the most unusual things were going to happen with me seated on a subway deep below the streets of Manhattan. That was when the never-say-die New York Yankees may have authored their most stirring comeback of the 2022 campaign. 

The bottom of the lineup, starting with outfielder Aaron Hicks, lit into Houston closer Ryan Pressly. With two aboard, Hicks launched a no doubter into the lower right field stands. Game tied. 

Shortstop Isiah Kiner-Falefa and suddenly surging catcher Jose Trevino reached base, although IK-F was caught stealing. With Trevino and Le Mahieu on base, Judge lined a 3-0 pitch off Ryne Stanek into the left field corner. Trevino scored. The Yankees win. Bedlam in the Bronx. Cheers associated with groans on the train as it reached 33rd Street. 

Was I bummed out? Not really. I made it home tired and before midnight. Had I stayed, I might not be writing with any clarity right now. These are the choices one makes at my age and with the train schedules in mind. 

What did I learn? This New York Yankees team is for real. 

Please Stephen A., No More Talk About Lists

As we have reached mid-June with the Stanley Cup Finals beginning, the NBA Finals concluding, the NCAA Men’s College World Series ready to open and the MLB season continues onward to its October destination. I will get to all of those later. There is something else I want to discuss first. 

I was mindlessly working out in the gym when I saw Stephen A. Smith, the bombastic talking head at ESPN, discussing lists of NBA players. First, with Chris “Mad Dog” Russo of WFAN fame in New York, they talked about the toughest guys in the NBA. Those players you wouldn’t want to mess with, At any time. 

Then, on another day, he was engrossed in a debate over Steph Curry and his place in history. Whether Curry has made it into the top 10 of all-time NBA players. Smith said he would with another championship and a Finals M.V.P. award. 

I agree with Tony Kornheiser of Pardon The Interruption that this listing stuff is nonsense. Comparing different players of varying talents and positions makes it rather difficult. 

One barometer is how many rings they have won. To that I say—how can you compare the era of Bill Russell and Wilt Chamberlain to that of Tim Duncan? Russell won 11 championships in 13 seasons. Duncan was on 5 title teams. Russell was a mega talent, but he was surrounded by far more Hall of Fame players than did Duncan, who played with the likes of Mano Ginobli, David Robinson and Tony Parker. Despite his 6’11” height, which is taller than Russell, who measured 6’10”, Duncan is considered to be the greatest power forward ever, while many believe that Russell was the best center ever. 

Yet thee are those who will offer an argument that Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, who won the tilte 6 times in Milwaukee and with the Lakers and accumulated a tremendous resume, is ahead of Russell. Others make an argument for Shaquille O’Neal, who is a 4 time champion. He certainly was a force in his prime, especially paired with Kobe Bryant, one of the greatest himself. 

For that matter, where does one place Lebron James? At 6’9”, he has been classified as a small forward. Look at him—he is anything but small in the way he plays. 

I take a different approach to all of this. I look at what kind of impact the individual had on the game. Which allows me the luxury of not declaring who is the greatest nor establishing a top 10 list because it can lead to an unjust apples and oranges comparison. 

One of my favorite examples is Derek Jeter. Was he better than Babe Ruth? Of course not. Maybe he wasn’t better than Mickey Mantle or Lou Gehrig or Joe DiMaggio. Perhaps not even as great as Yogi Berra, who won 10 crowns with the Yankees. But it was a different time that the aforementioned stars played their games.

Yet, unquestionably in my mind, Derek Jeter was the greatest Yankees player since Mantle, who retired in 1968. Jeter did not possess the power that Mantle had, nor the speed The Mick had until he suffered the first of his knee injuries. 

What Jeter did, on a team which had some Hall of Fame players join him for a few years here and there—Wade Boggs, Tim Raines, Mike Mussina immediately come to mind—was stand out. He could hit. He made the plays. Kids idolized the way Number 2 carried himself, including so many future MLB players.  

Jeter was head and shoulders the best infielder the Yankees ever had. I say that jokingly about Phil Rizzuto, who was 5’6” tall and previously was known as the best Yankees shortstop. Jeter also was the Yankee who had the most hits, by far and away. 

It would be folly to compare Jeter to Ruth, Mantle, Di Maggio, etc. He could be better compared to Alex Rodriguez, Cal Ripken, Jr., Ozzie Smith—all who primarily played shortstop.

Which I am not going to do.

What Russell could do was defend. There may not have been a better center defensively in the game. Chamberlain changed the game by his size and strength—the NBA widened the foul lane because of him. Magic Johnson showed us that a 6’9” player could play point guard. Larry Bird reminded us how to shoot and win. James showed us a refined way of  play, second only to Michael Jordan, who changed the game as he floated through the air with grace and dominated whenever he wanted to. 

Those players changed the way basketball could be played. Which is what Steph Curry has done. He may not have had the cast that Russell was bestowed with, or for that matter Johnson or Bird. What he did was revolutionize the game from the three point line while dribbling magically to open himself up for drives to the hoop, stop and popping from in the lane, or dramatically changing the outcome of games by his pinpoint shooting beyond the arc. 

So when you watch Curry get battered on a remarkable scoop shot that bounces into the basket, or continually sinks 9 out of 10 free throws, or throws up a shot from 35 feet out that majestically swishes, know that he changed the game of pro and college basketball by his ability to do what no other 6’3” guard could do among his peers. 

Whether or not the Warriors win the title or he garners the Finals M.V.P. to join his two League M.V.P. trophies, Steph Curry is one for the ages. And that is why I watch him play with such awe and reverence.

The Yankees reached 46-16 with 100 games to go. Aaron Judge is at 25 home runs with 49 R.B.I. He is being serenaded with M.V.P. chants each at bat. Every night, somebody else steps up to help Judge. 

The starting pitching is as good a rotation as has been seen for a long time. Clay Holmes might have been the heist of the century when GM Brian Cashman grabbed him from the Pirates. He is an untouchable closer, making the injury of the incumbent closer, Aroldis Chapman, seem insignificant. 

This team is playing at a pace which is now surpassing the 1927 Yankees led by Ruth and Gehrig and a host of Hall of Fame players. The tough stretch I mentioned a couple of weeks ago is upon them. In the first two home gamers with the Rays, the Yankees are 2-0 and have won 13 straight in the Bronx. 

If the Yankees win 50% of the games, they have 96 wins. Win 60% and the total is 106. I know I am the eternal pessimist, waiting for the roof to cave in. For now, this has been some ride.

As formidable as the Yankees have been, how about the defending World Champion Atlanta Braves winners of 14 straight? This is without Freddie Freeman, now in LA, where I learned he chose the Dodgers to be closer to his father, who helps adjust the first baseman’s swing when it needs tweaking. 

Kudos to the Phillies who have manufactured some gutsy come-from-behind wins during their renaissance. And don’t look now, but the San Diego Padres have virtually tied the Dodgers in the NL West—without the string bat of Fernando Tatis, Jr. in the lineup at all this season. Yes, Mets fans, you still reside in first place without Jacob deGrom or Max Schurzer on the mound. You do have a good team, too. 

Game 1 of the Stanley Cups Finals was an exciting opener. Colorado, the Western Conference leader, won in OT. John Cooper, coach of the two-time defending champion Tampa Bay Lightning indicated that his team could play much better. If Cooper is correct, then we hockey fans are in for a whale of a series.

This is being written before Game 6 of the NBA Finals in Boston, where the Celtics trail the Golden State Warriors 3 games to 2. In spite of a real rarity when Curry did not make one three point field goal, the Warriors downed the Celtics with timely scoring and plenty of defense.

Most experts believe that Boston will win at home. That may be true. The Celtics are one heck of a team. 

I have been chided about not making strong predictions. How can I when I honestly don’t know what would happen in Games 6 or 7, if the series goes that far? My heart says one thing—rooting for Curry and his mates. Conversely, my mind is jumbled with how good the Celtics are and whether the Warriors have just enough to down a very worthy opponent. That is why I will be up until near midnight watching tonight’s  game unfold. While switching back and forth to the Yankees game.

One last comment. The NCAA Men’s College World Series starts in Omaha on Friday. There is a bias towards the Southeastern Conference having an overabundance of top flight football teams. Now call the SEC a baseball conference. 

How about four SEC schools making the final eight. Arkansas, Auburn, Ole Miss and Texas A&M are there. Future members Texas and Oklahoma, still in the Big 12, are also present. LSU and Vanderbilt, perennial SEC powerhouses aren’t in Nebraska. And Tennessee, the top team all season, lost at home to Notre Dame in the Super Regionals (I don’t understand how Notre Dame jumped to become the favorite to win it the MCWS just because they beat the Vols).

I have said too much. Please, Stephen A., no more talk about lists.

A Whirlwind For Me

Baseball. Basketball. Hockey. Golf. Horse racing. That’s this weekend’s agenda for sports hungry fans. You simply don’t have to travel far from your TV or mobile device to watch or listen to your favorite sport. 

Let’s start with the least important one first. At least by my standards. That would be Saturday’s running of The Belmont Stakes.

Why is The Belmont not that important to me? Because Rich Strike, the long shot winner of the Kentucky Derby, ridden by the then-obscure Sonny Leon, didn’t run at the Preakness in the second leg of the Triple Crown. 

The lack of an opportunity for a Triple Crown winner makes me feel like it a just another horse race which is a spectacle because of the hype and TV coverage. Yes, the stands and infield will be packed in Elmont (imagine the traffic headaches on the Cross Island Expressway!). And yes, history would be made if Rich Strike wins, becoming the first horse to win both the Derby and Belmont without entering the Preakness (Rich Strike would be the 12 th to accomplish the feat; all of the others entered all three races).

Those facts are not enough for me to predict that Rich Strike might win the race. Rich Strike may well be a one hit wonder. And indeed, that was some hit. It will make his owners rich for years to come with breeding rights. I

In my mind, the horse is still a long shot to win this race, which is the longest of the Triple Crown series. It doesn’t mean that I won’t be rooting for him.

The big thing in golf is the start of LIV Golf. Saudi Arabian money has richly funded this venture, and it has attracted some big names who fled the PGA Tour. Phil Mickelson is the enfant terrible of LIV.  Excoriated by the US media, he lost plenty of sponsors when he attached his name to the Saudis and their brand of human rights and politics, foreign to Western ways. 

Other talented players have been attracted to the lure of big bucks and shortened weekends—the LIV format is over three days. It is getting plenty of worldwide media coverage for its initial stop in England. 

While the PGA is suspending players who defect to LIV, the majors are not because, other than the PGA Championship and other PGA-designated tournaments being more important than the Greater Hartford Open, they are not affiliated with the PGA. The stars still want the hardware, money and prestige associated with The Masters and US Open in this country (The British Open is a different animal, in a different nation, but one which seemingly embraces LIV events).

Some have likened LIV to the ABA in basketball, the AFL in football, the WHA in hockey. I think this is a different scenario, because of the Saudi money and the location of play. Moreover, with three majors not per se choosing sides, but ostensibly siding with LIV players, I believe that there is a good chance that this will truly shake up professional golf. 

Whether the two tours can live in parallel universes remains to be seen. The future of golf is now upon in the air. 

Sorry, New York Rangers fans. The writing is on the wall. Tampa Bay is the defending champion and they are going to win out and play for their third consecutive Stanley Cup. 

The Rangers are a young and talented group. The team made major strides this season. Reaching the Eastern Conference finals is a big plus heading into next season. 

This team is not as talented or experienced as the Lightning. TBL may have coasted a bit during the regular season and now they are healthy. And hungry for that third Cup. Which would cement them as a dynasty. 

Edmonton and Rangers icon Mark Messier remarked that, in this day and age, back-to-back Stanley Cup wins is remarkable. So, too, is getting to the third try for the trophy. 

Tampa has the best goaltender in the league come play-off time. Russian netminder Andrei Vasilevski is an all-timer. He has led the NHL in wins for five consecutive seasons; he won the Conn Smythe Trophy as the 2021 M.V.P. of the playoffs; and he holds the record for most wins in a single postseason. Steven Stamkos, Nikita Kucherov, Brayden Point, Patrick Maroon and Victor Hedman are names which resonate with me and the true hockey fan. 

In many ways, the Bolts remains me of the Islanders dynasty of the 1970’s and 80’s. Many Hockey Hall of Fame players throughout the squad, with a HOF coach. 

Should they win, they face a rested Colorado Avalanche team which is no slouch, having dispatched the Edmonton Oilers in four games. Led by star centerman Nathan Mc Kinnon, this meeting ought to be fun.

What has not been fun is watching the NBA Finals. Outside of a blowout in Game 2, the Boston Celtics are literally head and shoulders better than the Golden State Warriors. Up 2 to 1 as the teams collide on Friday night on the parquet floor at TD Garden, this seems like a last gasp for the Warriors if they have any hopes of winning the title. 

Steph Curry has been his incredible self, but even with his shooting at nearly 50% for the three games, it seems like it isn’t enough. Fellow Splash Brother Klay Thompson awoke from his slump in Game 3, yet was this a one game renaissance or just a flash? 

`Draymond Green is his usual agitating self. Other than for brief moments, he has not been the star of past championships. Media consensus is that he needs to step it up. 

Which may still not be enough. Whether it is Jayson Tatum, Marcus Smart, Jaylen Brown, Al Horford, Derrick White or Robert Williams III, the C’s are playing smothering defense and hustling to get second and third chances to score. Which they aren’t missing too many of those opportunities. 

Curry suffered an ankle injury late in Wednesday’s contest. He has said he’s fine. Without a mobile, active Curry on offense and defense, Golden State has no chance against a talented Celtics team.

Two managers went down recently. Both had previously won the World Series with different teams. And the post-firing results have been widely different.

When Rob Thompson replaced Joe Girardi in Philadelphia, it was like a breath of fresh air. They caught the stumbling Angels and swept them. Then the Phils traveled to Milwaukee and swept the Central Division leaders. Winners of seven straight, which has raised their record to 28-29, the Phillies still trail the Mets by 9 games and surging Atlanta, the defending champs and winners of eight in a row, by 2.5 games. What they have done is interject themselves into the Wild Card race, sitting only 2.5 games out of a berth. 

Conversely, firing Joe Maddon by the Angels did very little to stop the bleeding. The Halos lost 14 straight before picking up a victory. Once in decent position in the AL West and the Wild Card, they have tumbled to a 28-31 mark and sit 2.5 games out in the AL Wild Card standings. Seemingly heading in an opposite direction than Philadelphia. 

Oh, yeah. The Yankees beat the Twins 2 out of 3 in Minneapolis. Yawn. The Yankees have dominated Minnesota, winning more games against the Twins than any other team has against another MLB opponent. Plus New York has shut out Minnesota in the playoffs. So it wasn’t surprising that when ace Gerrit Cole incredibly served up 5 home runs in the first inning, the Yankees, MLB leaders in homers, used the long ball to come back and win by a score of 10-7. 

This is some lineup, one which has great confidence. With moribund Aaron Hicks and enigmatic Joey Gallo showing signs of finally heating up, that will be scary for the rest of baseball, starting with an intra league visit by the Cubs to Yankee Stadium on Friday night. 

Finally, a shout out to the Oklahoma Women’s Softball team on their winning the Women’s College World Series. That’s four titles in the last six tournaments. Not too shabby.

A cornucopia for the sports fan. A whirlwind for me. 

No More Airports--For Now

As I begin this week’s installment, I can tell you that I am flat out exhausted. Which means what little sense I normally make will be a nightmare for my editor to decode. 

Why am I so tired? We just returned from a 6 day trip to New Orleans to help celebrate our daughter’s birthday. Except that 6 day trip became a nearly 8 day ordeal/adventure. Which included sports.

When we flew out on May 26th to the Crescent City, the Yankees had just conceded a home series success against the Baltimore Orioles. The Mets, their cross-town rivals, were continuing their sterling play. The Stanley Cup mid-rounds and the NBA Conference finals were in full swing. So, too, was the French Open. Plus Memorial Day was on the horizon, so that meant the Indianapolis 500 and the Coca Cola 600 were upcoming. 

When we deplaned from our flight, there was only one piece of luggage—and it belonged to my wife. I had packed a day’s change of clothes and I had most of my necessary meds with me. So I could semi-comfortably survive for about a day; the hotel provided me with toothpaste.

I tracked the bags on the United Airlines app. Only one was reported to be in NOLA. The missing bag only had been checked in at Newark. 

I called a number for missing luggage which United offered on its website.  The friendly voice offered that the bag was surely on its way and that United apologized for its mistake.

As day turned into night, no bag appeared. A beautiful first night’s dinner at Briquette was marred by worries of when might the bag might show. Not the best way to start a lengthy trip. 

That night, I waited about 45 minutes until a representative answered my call. At first, he was a little snide when I told him I had necessities in my luggage; he told me I should have packed them separately. 

In the end, he proved to know what he was doing. He could not locate the missing piece, but he sent an alert to the baggage manager for him to follow up on it. We went to sleep feeling a bit apprehensive, despite the man’s assurances that this tends to resolve itself relatively easily. That was because he indicated that at Newark, United had been having baggage issues for months.

We awoke, had breakfast, worked out and then consumed leftovers for lunch. Still no bag. So we went on a stroll to the Mississippi River, watching the barges sail by on the muddy waters. Then we went to Lafayette Square for some serious people watching. Then back to the hotel, directly across from the National World War II Museum.

We strode up to the desk to inquire if a bag had been dropped off; United did not send us an update. When the man opened the door to the closet adjacent to the front desk, I saw it in all its glory. I was euphoric. Crisis averted. Deep breath and exhale. 

The reminder of the trip was lovely. We traveled to Lafayette, Louisiana, home of the University of Louisiana-Lafayette Rajun’ Cajuns (formerly SE Louisiana State) and indulged ourselves with malteds at the last remaining Borden’s Dairy Shoppe. 

On the return trip to New Orleans, we traveled on Interstate 10 East. We crossed the Mississippi at Baton Rouge, seeing the downtown and State Capitol on one side and LSU and its stadiums and buildings on the other side. 

In the state of Louisiana, there is LSU and everyone else. The football stadium, large and dominating the sky, rises over a sports complex which is second to none. In searching for FM classic rock, I found the LSU Tigers baseball game instead. We even saw pictures of two baseball players on giant billboards, advertising for a local business. How do you say Name, Image and Likeness?

The remainder of the visit was superb. A dinner at the very famous and elegant Commander’s Palace was a highlight. We walked on Memorial Day at Audubon Park, full of runners, skiers, walkers and golfers on the course located within the path around the park. One golfer, clad in LSU colors, obviously mishit his shot and disgustedly threw his club into the ground. Later on a foursome of men and women, included a muffed chip by one of the males and a woman throwing her ball onto the green from a sand trap. I guess they play golf a bit differently in the South. Or do they?

When we left, we were a little concerned about the weather in New York. United had sent an email offering to allow changes to itineraries at no cost due to the weather. Solid weather guy that I thought I was, I watched TV and viewed The Weather Channel for information. On May 31st, the chance of rain for June 1 was no more than 40%. I rolled the dice, thinking we had plenty of opportunity to get home.  I am glad that I avoided a casino and that I don’t play the stock market. 

We left New Orleans on a beautiful day. Our scheduled arrival time was just after 7:00 EDT. All was fine until we were near the Chesapeake Bay. Our pilot alerted us that Newark International Airport had been closed due to weather. We had circled for nearly an hour when he made the announcement that we had been diverted to Washington Dulles. 

That set off a chain of events which included holes dashed about a window to fly into Newark that night, leaving us to stay at the airport to sleep on the older chairs at the gate. We had no dinner—only water, Nature Valley Granola Bars (Oats & Honey for those keeping score) and small containers of Pringles.

Some were fortunate to make flight changes, grab a car or make it to a train. We stayed with our luggage, largely because ground personnel said they could not remove it from the plane and it would go to Newark with the aircraft. That decision was made based upon the first day luggage travails and the information about Newark that the agent had provided.

The times had shifted from a 1:00 pm to a 2:30 pm take off around 1;00 am. Sleep was fitful at best. At 2:30 pm, we dutifully boarded the plane, where we sat on the tarmac once more. 

We were hit with a double whammy. Both Newark and Dulles were closed because of inclement weather. Passengers were irate. Updates came and went without Newark reopening. Even when the skies had sufficiently cleared in the NY Metro Area. I knew because the Yankees were in the second game of a make up day-night doubleheader without interference from Mother Nature. 

After deplaning a couple of hours after our initial 2:30 boarding, we wearily reboarded the plane around 8:30 pm. I knew I would miss the bulk of Game 1 between the Celtics and Warriors. I wasn’t happy. I left Internet service with Jameson Taillon pitching a no hitter after 6 innings against the suddenly punchless Angels. 

With a few more glitches and some rain in NOVA, we finally hit the skies at 10:48 pm. When we hit the runway, I saw the Warriors were ahead by 12. 

I found that our bags had made it to NJ before us and I thankfully located the luggage in a gaggle near a carousel. The line to the baggage office seemingly stretched forever.

In the time that I left the plane until the time I was on the shuttle to the off site parking lot where our car stood, the Celtics had forged ahead. I blamed myself, because my good luck shirt was secreted in my luggage; I never thought I would have a need for it while flying home, and my Warriors hat had once again proven that if worn on a game day, it was a crapshoot as to its effectiveness in bringing me luck.

During our trip, I kept up with sports. We watched the Yankees in Tampa Bay, where they split four games. We saw the Angels lose the final game of a four game series to the Blue Jays in a slugfest. The local game belonged to the Texas Rangers. 

We saw Game 7 between the Celtics and Heat. As great as he played, Jimmy Butler should never have taken a three point shot with the game tied very late in the contest. His blunder cost the Heat a trip to the Finals. 

We watched the New York Rangers go to Raleigh and absolutely slay the Carolina Hurricanes in their seventh and deciding game. New York looked like a juggernaut. 

There was PTI. Crowd favorite Rafael Nadal eliminated Novak Djokovic, everybody’s villain in significant French Open action. And yes, the Mets continued their torrid play, feasting on the Phillies (who fired former Yankees skipper Joe Girardi)  and Nationals to pad their NL East lead. Buck Showalter may just get to the World Series after all. 

Rutgers lost to a very good Cornell team in the NCAA Division I Men’s Lacrosse semifinals. Maryland would go on to win the title. 

But the Rutgers curse struck again. The baseball team lost the Big Ten Championship game to Michigan. Even with 44 wins, the team failed to make the NCAA Tournament based on a low R.P.I. and weak strength of schedule. 

This was a team which scored runs aplenty and finished second. An inability to beat Maryland and Michigan also doomed their chances to move on. It still felt bad and I felt for the team—I had an affinity for them after watching them play versus Minnesota.

We walked into our house at 11:53. I was asleep within the hour. Our journey had mercifully ended. We had made a ton of new friends who shared their stories and were joined in common misery. Some of those people may still be traveling as I write this piece. A Jewish octogenarian from Springfield, Short Hills, Miami Beach and now Potomac, Maryland en route to visit her 92 year retired physician brother in the Jacksonville area stood out. I met a young lady from the University of the South and we talked Sewanee Football (a founding member of the SEC); she was majoring in neuroscience and was traveling to London for a course at the London School of Economics. And I exchanged pleasantries with a member of the Mc Neese track team. #MrSocial.

My wife doesn’t want to see a plane for a long time. Don’t tell her I am already lining up our next adventure. Let it not include another night sleeping in an airport.