SECTION: Sports; Pg. 88

LENGTH: 593 words

HEADLINE: CAN'T TAME TINO, SECTION 39

BYLINE: BY FILIP BONDY

BODY:


WHEN JACK AND VICKI Dowden decided to go to a World Series game this week on a West Coast kind of whim, they got tickets from a California travel agency without any problem.

They were blond. They were well-groomed. They were tanned. And now here they were sitting in Section 39 last night, dressed in orange and blue striped sweaters, taking snapshots of each other, without the slightest clue about why it was foolish for them to be cheering for their favorite team, the Padres, at this particular moment, in this particular location. "What did you say is the deal with this place?" asked Vicki, not even knowing she was talking to the Bleacher Creatures' personal biographer.

"You're sitting in Section 39," I said, hoping to impress upon her the immediate threat to life and limb. "This is the single most vicious rooting section in all of sports."

"Really?" Vicki said. She didn't sound intimidated. She didn't want a refund. She smiled.

Vicki survived, somehow. The Padres didn't. And nobody had more to do with the 9-6 victory than us, Tino's most loyal fans and primary motivators.

Others gave up on Tino a long time ago, talked about Mo Vaughn. We kept chanting his name, though, until he gave us the winning grand slam in the seventh. The man always tipped his cap with style.

It is a good thing Game 1 ended happily, because it certainly didn't start very well. We expended so much energy merely getting into the Stadium, then fighting for our seats, we were worn thin.

Some of us, to be perfectly honest, did not own stubs that exactly matched the numbers on the benches. We were careful not to draw attention to ourselves, as we wiggled our way back into our favorite rows.

"I don't mean any harm, but I hope the old guy sitting in my regular seat gets a mild stroke and has to be removed," said John Zenes.

Creature imposters abounded. Three morons sat in the back of our sacred section, wearing Padre caps. Moe, Larry and Shemp, the unfunny Stooge. Around them sat extremely tolerant, civilized yuppies, a few even wearing ties.

"I go to all the regular-season games, and now they're sitting in my seats at the World Series," said Milton Ousland, the cowbell man. "It's like the rich kids paid me to go to their classes and do all their homework. Then they come back for the graduation."

The Padres took full advantage of our confusion.

During batting practice, six San Diego players strolled to the right-field wall and joked with us, as if we were harmless pets or something. They tossed us a few baseballs, joked.

Only Donald Simpson, who had raised himself from his sick bed for this occasion looking particularly frail, had the moral fortitude to raise his middle finger at these creeps, to turn his back on their free baseballs.

There were many of us missing, for the opener. Tom Brown couldn't make it. Paul Kaplan had to go to a wedding of a relative, a Met fan.

He showed up before the game outside the Stadium, just to get a sniff of the action and to show off his new line of athletic gear.

KAPLAN HAD BECOME the first Creature to win an official endorsement. Nike representatives contacted him, asking Kaplan to wear a New York Nike shirt. Kaplan agreed, of course. Then, he left for the wedding and missed the comeback victory.

It's been a bad year for Nike.

Jack and Vicki were taking pictures again, with their tour group. A bunch of Creatures surrounded them, wrecked their photo shoot.

As Tino proved, you can only push us so far.

Notes: Bleacher Creature

LOAD-DATE: October 20, 1998