Watching Jeff DaVanon

Watching Jeff DaVanon

A weblog devoted to #55 of the Anaheim Angels, Jeff DaVanon. How is he doing? Is he getting his due respect yet? Let's watch and see...

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Out of Control

The game last night was so weird. The Angel fans seem to have latent hooligan tendencies that were just waiting for the right moment to materialize. There was the thing with the glove and then the other thing with the glove. And the bench and bullpen-clearing "passionate discussion" on the field.

But you can hear about all those things and see them other places. So I'll get to them later. The most out of control thing on the field last night was Vlad's new shoes.

His shoes defy description. It's as if a Vegas showgirl and an athlete got together and shared a closet and that closet was subjected to Troma-like levels of radiation and the resulting mutation was Vlad's shoes. They are just amazing. If a friend of mine owned those shoes, I think I'd stage an intervention. They are red and they sparkle. They sparkle. It's like someone was bowling and decided they wanted their shoes to look like a bowling ball. But what the heck, it's Vlad. He can wear shoes manufactured from the lips of kittens and I'll still love him.

Let's move on to the fans. I don't know if $3 Tuesdays were as bad an idea as $2 Tuesdays uptown, or if Angel fans are sick of being nice, or if the pixie dust has just fallen off our shoulders, but the fans were bad last night and they liked it. We really don't like Jose Guillen. He led us on for months and made us think he was a nice boy that we could bring home to momma and then we found out he's been cheating on us, and we tossed him, and we were depressed for a few months but now we're just angry that we ever liked him. A year ago we were praising his name, cheering for all we were worth, and now we enjoy nothing more than booing and taunting him, to the point of insisting that our fellow fans throw back foul balls as well as home runs. The cognitive dissonance should be deafening. But instead, we mustered more enthusiasm for chanting "Guillen Sucks" than we did for the Rally Monkey. And he took that abuse and channeled it into a homerun that should have shut us up but just gave further credence to our belief that Guillen Sucks. Beyond Guillen, when the post-glove discussion was going on, we were out for blood. I've seen fights in the stadium before, but never before have I seen a fight instantly take on the vibe that we were all like personally involved. I think we felt bad for Donelley who was so f-ed with on the road trip, and the fans were feeling protective of him. Luckily, I don't think Nationals fans exist in LA, so none were in attendance, if there had been any sprinkled in the stands, there would have been some serious brawling.

Santana got an ovation as he left the field. Don't get me wrong, I like the kid, but I'm not so sure it was an ovation-worthy performance. We're like children with a shiny new toy. We'll see if our adoration lasts, or if some other shiny thing comes along and shifts our attention and affection.

Hey, can we all agree that taunting the ballboy is never cool? Especially when he hasn't commited an error, or done anything wrong?

Heh. I sat next to a random Washington fan for that game. He was very quiet, clapped when the Nationals made a good play, and gave me his Garret Anderson bobblehead doll. And we didn't fight. :)

Amen to Vlad's shoes.
Cool! I guess the Angels fans near me were so ready to fight with each other that I feared for the hypothetical safety of any Nationals fan that might have been in our midst.
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