Line drives hook. That’s all there is to it, and the A-Rod homer that I misplayed two nights ago was indeed a line drive. According to Hit Tracker, the ball left A-Rod’s bat at a speed of 113.3 miles per hour, took off toward my section at a 23.4-degree angle, traveled 396 feet, and never went higher than 59 feet. That’s not just a line drive. That’s a frozen rope, clothes line, pea, seed, missile, rocket, and aspirin tablet all rolled into one. I’m not making excuses for why I shouldn’t have caught it; I’m trying to come up with reasons why I shouldn’t feel as bad about not catching it. Another reason: it was only his 512th career homer, and really, in the grand scheme of things, who cares about anyone’s 512th career homer? It’s not like it was his 812th. THAT would’ve been something to cry about. A-Rod still has a long way to go, and if he doesn’t opt out of his contract at the end of this season, I’ll have many more chances in 2008 to chase his home runs.
Yesterday I felt like a living pile of dog poop, and I lashed out at the few people who were dumb enough to try to cheer me up. For future reference, don’t try to cheer me up. I have a right to indulge in self-pity. I’m also a perfectionist, and oh by the way, newsflash, I take my snagging kinda seriously. Get over it.
Today I’m feeling better. Time does that.
It also helps to be an optimist.
And finally, for the record, I’d like to say that aside from all this A-Rod drama, my mom and I had a great time together at the game.