Eating My Shoe

On June 30, 2000, I found myself at a Braves-Mets game at Shea Stadium as the Mets fell behind, 8-1.

This was the first Mets-Braves series in NYC after John Rocker's infamous verbal trashing of New York in a December '99 Sports Illustrated article. I'd bought tickets to two games, hoping to be there to boo Rocker in person for being a huge jerk. The first night of the series, I had that opportunity, and then watched the Mets fall to Rocker's unhittable pitches. This night was Game 2. My friend Tim and I were sitting up in the nosebleed seats, next to a group of special-needs adults with questionable hygiene who kept accidentally sitting in our seats, necessitating a few polite discussions on our part with the group leader.

The situation seemed grim on several levels, so I called my Mets-fan pal Jason down in his regular seats about a half mile closer to the action. I informed him that his team sucked, adding that if they came back to win, I would eat my shoe. It turned out to be one of the biggest Mets comebacks ever.

Final score: Mets 11, Braves 8.

About two years later, on Saturday, May 25, 2002, my brother and I were watching the Boston Celtics in the playoffs on TV, and he became increasingly agitated as the Celts fell woefully behind the New Jersey Nets. The Celtics were down 21, and I decided to try something. I announced, "Chris, if the Celtics win tonight, I will eat my shoe." It ended up being one of the biggest Celtics comebacks ever.

Final score: Celtics 94, Nets 90.

Last night, I watched the Celtics not bother to show up for the first quarter of Game 4 in the NBA Finals against the LA Lakers. My brother and I emailed back and forth as the game went on, with the Celts down as much as 24 points. Around halftime, with the Celts still down 58-40, I emailed my brother: "If they win tonight, Chris, I will eat my shoe."

Unless you live under a rock, you probably know what happened -- one of the greatest Celtics comebacks ever.

Final score: Celtics 97, Lakers 91.

So I have concluded that I have magical powers. This morning, my brother emailed me: "What does shoe leather taste like?" I wouldn't know -- the best thing about my apparent powers is that eating a shoe doesn't appear to be required. I haven't followed through on the promise yet.

Go Celtics!

Vote for an Asterisk

Last month, when Barry Bonds hit his 756th home run, I wrote that the guy who caught the ball should have thrown it back in protest. I reasoned that that ball was estimated to be worth $100,000, but being "the guy who threw back Barry Bonds' ball" was worth more than that.

On Saturday, that ball was auctioned off for over $752,000. The winning bidder was some fashion designer guy named Marc Ecko, who has set up a Web site to allow the Internet-voting public to decide the fate of the ball. The choices are: give the ball to the Hall of Fame, brand it with an asterisk, or blast it into space.

At first, I thought: I'd definitely rather have $750k than a good story. However, Ecko is now getting oodles of publicity for essentially offering to throw it back. Maybe my initial idea was not so crazy.

Bonds, currently under investigation for steroid usage, tax evasion, and perjury, called Ecko an "idiot" when he heard about the poll.

I voted for an asterisk.

Here's where you can place your vote:

Throw It Back

Last night, Barry Bonds, currently under investigation for steroid usage, tax evasion, and perjury, broke Hank Aaron's home run record. I never thought I'd say this, but I'll be rooting for A-Rod to break Bonds' record.

Two minor players in this drama caught my eye.

Mike Bacsik

The pitcher who gave up Bonds' 756th homer, the Washington Nationals' Mike Bacsik, told the Washington Post that he'd always imagined this moment.

"I dreamed of this as a kid," Bacsik said. "Unfortunately, when I dreamed about it, I thought I'd be the one hitting the home run, not giving it up."

In the end, the Nats won, 8-6. Even the lowly Nats are better than the Giants.

Matt Murphy

The ball was caught by one Matt Murphy of Queens, New York. The ball is expected to sell for at least $100,000 -- experts said it could have been worth up to $500,000, but investors are worried the ball could lose value if Bonds is proven to have lied about his past steroid use. Murphy declined to talk to reporters.

I was thinking about what I would do if I had come up with the ball. This is of course highly unlikely, because if a foul ball came my way I'd be more likely to cover my head with my hands and pray it didn't hit me. And if I had caught it, I would still have had to hold on to the ball under the melee of fans trying to steal it away. But let's suspend our disbelief for a moment.

I'd like to think that I would have thrown the ball back. Sure, I'd be throwing back at least $100,000. But I have a good job, a good life. I can buy the things I need. $100,000 would not change my life. Eventually, the money would be gone. But if I threw the ball back, I'd have that story forever. For the rest of my life, I'd be "the girl who threw back Barry Bonds' record-breaking home run."

You can't put a price on something like that.