Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Things they don't tell you on ESPN and how All-Star baseball players generally don't give a shit if your hand is stuck in an elevator - Part 1

I realize I'm a little delinquent in my posting lately.  It's summer.  I'm lazy.  Whatever.

That...and my hand was practically mauled in an near-death hotel elevator incident in Anaheim last week which makes typing painful and very, very difficult.

Actually my hand is fine.  My psyche, on the other hand, is traumatized.

And I will be suing the horrible negligent hotel chain responsible for this near-tragedy.

Actually, no I won't.  But only because it was a Marriott and not a Ritz-Carlton.  Suing the Ritz Carlton would be fun.  There's no joy in suing a Marriott.

Let me back up a bit.

So last week I went to the All-Star Game/Home Run Derby festivities in Anaheim.  The Boy was "working" so, as guests of Major League Baseball, we stayed in the official Marriott with the All-Stars, press, agents, entourages and a few hundred smart autograph hounds.  And while the Boy "worked", I generally did nothing and took stupid pictures.

 Case in point

Of course, George, my tranny lego, came with me.

Case in point #2

George with the Boy's Chilean Three-Legged Good Luck Pig - I really have no explanation

It was a surreal experience.  Walking through the hotel lobby was a bit like trying to walk past the Ivy on Robertson Avenue...head down, shoulders squared, hold out hotel key for three layers of security, brace for line of autograph seekers and the disappointment that radiates from them when they realize we're nobodies, slide past last layer of security before elevators, and then SCORE...collapse in your room.

I learned a few things at the All-Star game...things I never learned on ESPN.

No. 1... If you get your hand caught in an elevator, All-Star baseball players will look at you blankly and absolutely not help you.  

So since all the autographers tended to hang out in the lobby, the All-Stars tended to congregate and socialize in front of the elevator banks - two levels of security past the lobby.  It wasn't sexy, but it seemed to work for them.

On Sunday night as we were headed back to our room, the Boy and I ran into All-Star Pitcher and All-Star Outfielder in front of the elevators.  The Boy knows them both and struck up a boy-style conversation with lots of grunts and hand slaps while I stood nearby feigning interest in the conversation while really mentally piecing together the next day's outfit.  At some point I hear the Boy start to say things that would indicate the conversation is ending so I push the "Up" elevator button because it's midnight and I'm assuming that since we're all standing in front of the elevators, that everybody wants to...I don't know...GO UP TO THEIR ROOMS.

The elevator door opens and nobody but me moves towards the door.  So I hesitate and the elevator door closes.  I hit the "Up" button again.  I look at the Boy to make sure we are indeed still going up.  He's oblivious and still yapping but takes a step towards me.

The elevator door opens.  I make a move towards the door and as the door starts to close - yet again - I throw my arm in between the doors so that they will stay open.  Except they don't.  The door closes on my arm.  

I panic and look at the Boy.  And he just looks at me.  I look at All-Star Pitcher and All-Star Outfielder.  And they just look at me too.

In my head I'm screaming "What the fuck?!" and "Ouch, goddamn motherf***er" but, as I glare daggers at the Boy, I calmly throw all of my weight into prying the door open with my other hand and extricate my dented arm from the offending elevator.

"Now are you ready to go up?" I say, holding my dented arm and shattered ego.

The Boy looks sheepish and nods.  We all get on the elevator.  All-Star Pitcher looks up as the floor numbers light up one at a time and says "Did that just happen?".


More things I learned at the All-Star Game (Nos. 2 & 3) and more stupid pictures are coming soon.  Frankly, I started writing this and it got long and I ran out of wine, so I think a sequel is warranted.

And I'm lazy.  Whatever.


  1. Oh come on, you gotta name names!

  2. Sounds like chivalry really is dead. I wonder if the All Star Catcher would've assaulted the elevator door on your behalf.

    Loved your comment on my blog, by the way.
    Keep laughing.

  3. This just confirms what I already knew. Baseball players are pussies.

  4. "Did that just happen?"??? Really? That's the extent of the wit and charm in this guy's head? Umm, yeah, I think you were here to witness it happening. Unless you usually depend on others to confirm your version of reality. Well, I guess that's probably what baseball players are accustomed to doing... "Did I just shoot up with steroids?" I need you to tell me because I'm not sure how to tell.

  5. I am with Chris on this one!! I need names... not that I would know them but I can Google. I need to Google something,..
    Gimme something to Google, please????

  6. ...or you could at least give some further hint about who those clowns were... probably American Leaguers?

  7. I bet it was Dizzy Dean and Moose Skowron. Am I right?

  8. I always thought Moose was a first baseman? It was probably Jackie Brandt.

  9. Where have all the cowboys and gentlemen gone?

    Man, I'm glad you kept your arm. That would have put a serious dent in the All Star week.

  10. Yeah well most men today are hip to the old "my hand's caught in the elevator" ploy. No wonder nobody fell for it. If you want to attract a man's attention, generally gushing blood will do the trick.

  11. This is my first time here and you are hilarious. I haven't gotten caught in an elevator, but was almost eaten by an escalator if that counts. And baseball players don't have to be smart...just look good in baseball hats.

  12. ???? sweet girl, even I know that those boys would not stick their hand (or anything) in an elevator to save anyone...can you say "that's my meal tix, worth 45 million dollar pitching/throwing arm" and nothing would make me risk losing said meal tix. I'm sending you a stick to keep in your pocket for the next time you need to stick something in an elevator door, your BFF

  13. Despite what anonymous said above me, I would have helped regardless of my status in baseball, worth or salary. It's just the right thing to do.