Bobby Abreu drove a ball over the wall and into my apartment last night. It was the eighth inning of another close game against the Angels and I hung on every word until the ball finally cleared the reach of Gary Matthews Jr.
Listening to a game in the dark with the sheets pulled tight to your chin takes you back to basics. Back to a time when you had to be in bed by nine, but stayed up deep into the night.
It was always exciting and maybe a bit daring to listen to Yankees’ games from Los Angeles and Oakland and Seattle. I felt like the only one in the neighborhood still awake and the game was all mine.
My mother thought I would fade off to sleep, but that never happened. The road keeps you on the edge even if the end doesn’t come until 1:12 a.m.
Mariano Rivera ended last night by getting a lazy fly ball hit to Abreu. He caught it in the darkest corner of my apartment. I could really see it all.