It's a Subway Series!

So yeah, the Mets and Yankes play tonight. For those of you who don't know or care much for New York baseball perhaps you can understand that these are incredibly fun games to watch or attend, even if they are all a painful reminder of the dark angst that can happen when you're 15 years old. Still, with that fateful series some 11 years in my rear view mirror, I'm willing to take these biannual matchups as what they are.

Baseball games.

That's really all they are, and people can talk about "bragging rights" all they want, but all things considered, they're really no more significant on the calendar than any other.

Why is this?

Well, to be completely blunt, as much as people want the Yankees and Mets to be rivals, they really aren't. They play six times a year, a whopping 3.7% of their 162-game schedule. They don't play after early July, they don't compete directly against each other in their divisions, or or any playoff spot at all for that matter, and for the most part, at least for me, once these games are over it's out of sight and out of mind.

But like I said, that doesn't mean they aren't fun, and it's certainly enjoyable to have one of those rare times during the baseball season when a Mets fan and a Yankees fan can go to a game together and each have a vested interest in the outcome. And so it is with that in mind that I'm particularly keen to be headed up to the Bronx tonight for the opener of the 2011 renewal of the rivalry. This was made possible yesterday when I noticed that tickets had dropped precipitously on stubhub and decided, "What the hell? I'll pay $28 to sit behind home plate in the upper deck."

It'll be interesting to see if tonight becomes one of those great memories I have of Subway Series games past that I've attended, memories that include:

1) Being taken out of school by my mother to attend the rubber match of the first ever Subway Series in 1997.
2) Seeing Mike Piazza hit a massive grand slam to dead center field off Roger Clemens at Yankee Stadium in 2000 in an eventual 12-2 win.
3) Seeing numerous fights break out in the upper deck during that game, as well as seeing one Met fan stand up and repeatedly smack his ass because the Mets were winning by such a large margin.
4) Seeing Shawn Estes miss his opportunity to bean Clemens in 2002 in misguided vengeance for beaning Piazza in July of 2000.
5) Seeing both Estes and Piazza hit home runs off of Clemens anyway.

Indeed, even the Subway Series games I haven't attended have had a whole host of memories. Whether or not there are some new ones created tonight remains to be seen, but either way I'm looking forward to the evening, provided the weather holds out.

Another thing that should make this series interesting is that despite profound differences in payroll, expectations and, well, talent, the Mets and Yankees aren't actually too far apart in the standings this year -- not right now anyway. I'm not fool and I suspect that come September the Yankees will be battling Boston and Tampa Bay for the AL East title while the Mets are at least 10 games back, but for now the Amazins have played quite well of late, going 16-9 since a 9-1 win over the Astros on April 21, a game I should note, was the first I attended this season. As a result, the Mets are just one game under .500 after a miserable start, sitting five games back of first with a 21-22 record, and just 2 1/2 games back in the overall standings of the 23-19 Yankees, who have been slogging through a brutal month.

What that means for this weekend, well, I can't really say, but I'm somewhat optimistic of the Mets' chances. This is probably irrational of me, but as I've learned recently, optimism is necessary to truck on sometimes, and I will do just that. Multiple times. With photographic evidence, no less.

Lastly, even if the Mets lose tonight, I am somewhat excited about getting to go to Yankee Stadium for the second time this season -- and second time in 10 days. This is odd considering I hadn't gone to the Bronx for a game all last season, but I remembered last week what I miss so much about the new Yankee Stadium, and to be quite honest, it is not the building itself. Yankee Stadium does not impress me for a few reasons. While I enjoy that they brought the frieze back around the top of the stadium and I can see what they're going for with the limestone walls intended to evoke the original Yankee Stadium facade from the 20s, but this building makes me feel like Hal Steinbrenner is sitting on my shoulder everywhere I go reminding me how good his building is.



The other thing I can't help but think of when I see Yankee Stadium is that it must be the most Republican stadium in the Majors. Allow me to explain. I acknowledge that Republicans, by and large are probably nice people and have great senses of humor even if I don't agree with them on politics, but one moment that has always stuck out in my mind as representative of the party was this horror show from the 2004 RNC when the Bush twins came on and told a series of absolutely terribly unfunny jokes with poor delivery.

What that moment showed, at least to me, was a desperate attempt to show Americans how Republicans actually had a great sense of humor, but the execution in fact proved the exact opposite. The New Yankee Stadium, to me, is a building that intends to show you it's sense of class, distinction and grandeur, and while the franchise that plays there does, in fact, have all of those things, the building's falseness indicates that as a structure, it has the opposite.

It's a distended metaphor, I know, but it makes sense when you think about it. Really, I swear it does.

However, I am still happy to go to the Bronx tonight, and there are two big reasons. The first, obvious one, is that I just like going to baseball games. The second one is that for all of its faults as a building (the phony exterior, the disappointing museum) the new Yankee Stadium does have my absolute favorite ballpark food item that I've come across yet, barely beating out the Gilroy Garlic Fries at AT&T Park in San Francisco. That, my friends, is the Lobel's steak sandwich, available on the field level near Sec. 131 at the left field foul pole. I know that with this delicious pile of fresh sliced prime rib, au jus and optional horse radish sauce on a brioche bun I will leave Yankee Stadium tonight feeling like a winner.

Frankly, being a Mets fan these days makes that a rare thing. But being a winner at the Subway Series will always be a little sweeter.

The Triumphant Return From the West

If any of you spoke to me in my zombie ramblings yesterday and thought I seemed a bit out of it, that probably has something to do with me having gotten very few hours of sleep thanks to two insufferable crying children on my redeye back from Los Angeles Wednesday night. The true shame of this comes from Virgin America's low mood music and deep, soft purple lighting, which should knock anyone on the plane out in fairly short order. But they simply didn't account for parents who are disinterested in calming down their children now did they?

Of course not.

Well, it's a day later, I'm refreshed, and there's much to discuss over here in Kalanville. Perhaps it would seem prescient to start with the obvious, which is that the1920s gold prospector from Chicago you see in the top right corner smoking a cigar with me got married this past weekend.

It really just looks like a standard tuxedo until you include the pocket watches. They take them to a whole new level.

So, I suppose my brother's wedding was probably the most important thing I did in my third trip to the west coast in the past five weeks, but don't worry, there's actually plenty that was relevant to this blog that happened, too. My sister and I decided that following this wedding would be a perfect time to make a drive down the coast from San Francisco to Los Angeles, which for her purposes meant beautiful scenery and the chance to see her friend Lily. For mine it meant the chance to visit one of my favorite Stadiums -- AT&T Park -- and the chance to see a new one -- Dodger Stadium.

Some of you may recall my brutal near-miss in my attempt to see Dodger Stadium in July following my weekend trip to the San Diego Comic-Con. This time no force on heaven or Earth was going to stop me, which I'm sure caused my sister more than a little anxiety as I sped wrecklessly on I-10 East in Los Angeles.

I would have been on time for the game, too, were it not for the obnoxiously long line to pay for parking.

No matter. We got the game in and despite the lack of excitement from the action on the field Wednesday as the Phillies knocked off the Dodgers, it was still a lot of fun to see a new building, which, while not my favorite, has a lot to like about it nonetheless, namely it's color scheme which looks just how you'd expect a building from 1962 to look, and the beautiful view in the outfield. When I give this jaunt the full written rundown I'll give much more insight into its delightful antiquated charm, and moreover, despite the claims of one Evan Hung, the Dodger dogs are actually pretty decent.

Don't worry, Evan. San Francisco still has its superior garlic fries.

In fact, the garlic fries are extremely necessary since San Francisco, for some reason I can't possibly explain, irrationally relishes the fact that it is always mid-fall and chilly in that city. Aside from being a kind of bizarre place, I'd actually rather like the City by the Bay were it not for every day feeling like October 24th there. Monday night when we attended a Giants-Rockies game that had me frustrated for not starting Jonathan Sanchez on my fantasy team the same night I saw him throw eight-plus shutout innings in person until the Giants lost in spectacular fashion in the ninth inning, it was somewhere between cool and freezing. My sister was prepared with a scarf and later bought a knit hat for the occasion, I came with a long-sleeved shirt and jacket, and all of my Bay Area cohorts came layered, including Stacy who had gloves with her just in case it was particularly nippy.

It was August. Late August is still August.

In any event, the trip was a good one had by all, and I now get to enjoy a whole 12 days in New York before I head to Boston on Sept. 14 and then go to my next new sporting venue, Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis, for the Manning Bowl on Sept. 19.

Wahoo.

Speaking of the Giants, with the season getting underway for Big Blue on Sept. 12, I made sure to have my tickets earlier today for the first regular season game ever held at the Giants and Jets brand-spankin'-new and totally necessary Meadowlands Stadium. I won't know for sure until they arrive, but I'm hopeful the tickets will be the fancy shmancy laminated commemorative ones that most season ticket holders are getting.

Getting those tickets was a nice uplift after seeing (Warning: Dave is about to talk Aussie Rules Football) Geelong play well beneath its abilities for most of Friday's Qualifying Final with last year's Grand Final opponent St. Kilda. The loss was a particularly brutal one as a questionable foul with 61 seconds left nullified what would have been a game-winning goal by captain Cameron Ling, the huffing-puffing fire-headed chap you see to the left.

This doesn't end the Cats' hunt for a fourth Grand Final trip in as many seasons and a third premiership in that span, but it doesn't make it easier. With a win Geelong would have gotten two weeks off until a win-or-go home Preliminary Final with a berth in the big game at the end on the line. Instead the Cats will have to win a match this weekend against either Fremantle or Hawthorn (which famously upset Geelong in the 2008 Grand Final) to reach the semis.

Then again, as a fan of the Mets (who have to deal with being attached to Snooki), the Giants (who never make it easy), the Devils (who apparently need six weeks to sign a free agent), Northwestern (which wears purple), Southampton FC (relegated twice this decade) and the Knicks (Do I need to explain this one?), I'm used to taking the long road to victory. And with Northwestern opening its season tomorrow night against Vanderbilt, I'll get a quick reminder on how long a season can be if the Wildcats get upset by the 'Dores.

But since I don't cross the Mississippi again for two and a half months, at least I won't have to deal with jetlag by the time I experience that collapse.

Right?

Go West, Young Man. Again.

Some of you might have noticed that my updates have been somewhat sparse lately, and I will plead your forgiveness by offering a few reasons why. You see, the month of August 2010 has been particularly busy for me, with work, weddings and travel galore. Also, the downtrodden Mets have left me with little to be excited about in sports beyond the start of Southampton's League One season and the run up to the Aussie Rules Football Finals, which Geelong should figure to impact rather heavily.

But y'all cats aren't necessarily interested in all that, though perhaps the coming start of Northwestern's college football season might excite you. Or maybe not. I'm sure my four readers would feign interest while I rambled about the Cats' prospects at a surprise Big Ten title or my Geelong Cats' prospects of a third premiership in four years, but I wouldn't want to make hypocrites out of all of you.

In any event, I will come clean and tell you all why this month has been so busy, and essentially, I will revolve it around my zany trip to San Diego to see the annual Comic-Con, and a trip I made two weeks ago to see my friends Dave and Caitlin tie the knot in Portland, Oregon. This would be the same Dave with whom I saw that magic moment for Ken Griffey Jr. last June. In between all of those events I've been juggling a typical work schedule, the precipitous downfall of my Mets, the impending start of the season for my Giants, the fact that Ilya Kovalchuk somehow still isn't under a contract that passes muster and my brother's impending nuptials this Sunday.

See how I slipped that in there? Eh? Eh?

That, my friends, is what we call burying the lead. Burying it after the jump is equally as bad, but you've got to entice the reader to keep on reading no?

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Elliott, Emmy-winning comedy writer, terrible movie enthusiast and newly minted comic book author, is getting hitched to his fiancee Danielle this Sunday in Sonoma, California, which means, I have to book it to the airport tomorrow morning for a flight to San Francisco that will mark my third trip across the country in five weeks.

Yep. That's right. The third time in five weeks.

Fortunately, this is no longer the era of covered wagons like you see to the left here, so my accommodations -- the newfangled "airplane" -- will get me to San Francisco in at least half the time.

Now, surely none of you really care all that much about my travel plans to my brother's wedding, beyond offerings of congratulations and curiosity over just how big a disaster my best man speech is going to be, but here's why it matters for this space. There will be baseball. West Coast Baseball. The Mets would not exist were it not for the California-bound relocation of the New York Giants and Brooklyn Dodgers half a century ago, and because the actual Mets are, well, terrible right now, I will instead scope out the forbears of my favorite team who are much better than terrible and actually even in contention for what they call "a playoff berth".

We Mets fans may be unfamiliar with that concept these days, but I assure all of you, it actually exists.

And so, because I will be on the left coast, my sister, I, and a few assorted others will be attending this Monday's Giants-Rockies game at AT&T Park, and while this will not be a new experience for me -- I've been there twice -- it just may be my favorite. Two days later, if we can wake ourselves early enough to make the drive from San Luis Obispo, we will be in Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles to, at long last, knock the second oldest park in the National League off of my list. I'm awfully excited about the prospect.

Oh yeah. And my brother's getting married. That's pretty exciting, too. One of my best friends in college, Luisa Badaracco of my venture to Fenway and TD Garden fame, was at her sister's wedding three years ago when Clay Buchholz threw a no-hitter in his second career start for her Boston Red Sox. Will history repeat itself for my brother Sunday as the historically pitching-rich Mets finally get their first no-no? Well, the odds are a little slim, though this isn't the most unlikely thing I've banked on -- in High School I once told a teacher I'd have to miss a club meeting because I had Mets tickets and I liked their chances for a Perfect Game against the hapless Orioles. The Mets probable starter is R.A. Dickey, who already has a one-hitter under his belt in a surprising knuckleballing season that has him stunningly in the top ten of the NL's ERA chase. His foe -- the equally as hapless Houston Astros in the pitcher's haven of Citi Field.

The stars are aligned. You can pretty much take it to the bank.

On one last note, it was revealed this week whom the Mets will be visiting in 2011 for interleague play, which is always of great interest to me as I look to strike down stadiums on my quest. Despite much hub-bub that the Amazins would be visiting Minnesota's new Target Field, they will in fact be visiting Rangers Ballpark at Arlington and Comerica Park in Detroit. While I have already been to Comerica Park, the Texas Rangers are new on the list. Who's up for a road trip?

And that's all the news that's fit to print and a whole lot more that isn't in these parts. California beckons tomorrow, again, and the Kalan family will be changed forever. If I can keep my eyes open after crisscrossing the U.S. one last time this month, I'll be sure to tell you all about it next week.