Copyright 2004 Daily News, L.P.

Daily News (New York)
October 7, 2004 Thursday
RACING FINAL EDITION
SECTION: SPORTS; BLEACHER CREATURE; Pg. 80

LENGTH: 620 words

HEADLINE: IT'S GETTING UGLY OUT HERE

BYLINE: BY FILIP BONDY

BODY:


It's exactly like that great bleacher poet and prophet, Paul Kaplan, always said: "Here, we're just people with nothing in common, banding together against a common enemy - the world."

Unfortunately, out in the bleachers again last night, there was simply no common enemy to be found, no world. Minnesota Twins fans either didn't exist at all, or they were refusing to report to New York for their ritual hazing. The enemy was generic and invisible, the most dangerous kind. Without a target for our rage, the Creatures did what we always do when there is no obvious dart board. We turned on ourselves, like cannibals.

Dever, Bald Ray and Blue Lou were still furious with Ric Flair from upstart Section 37, who had a long history of bugging Section 39 with his insane rants. "I hate that guy," Mike Donahue said. Blue Lou got tossed after just three innings of Game 1, getting in Flair's face, after Lou had done three hours of cooking at the barbecue.

"Section 37 is a joke," Tone Capone said. "They didn't watch a single pitch until about the fifth inning, they were so busy listening to Flair. They're the quintessential Yankee frontrunners, that whole section."

Actually, Section 37 was sort of a Bizarro world Section 39. Thirty-seven had its equivalents for 39, could match the section almost piece for piece, fanatic for fanatic. Statman was a stand-in for Walkman John. Norma had been around as long as Tina. Cuban Maria was every bit a passionate liberal as Rose. Nature Boy, the Flair impersonator, could scream right up there with the Stone Cold mimic. Old Man Sam, a 39 defector to 37, couldn't quite trump Old Man Jimmy in years or experience, but he was promising. Bald Ray was just as bald as Bald Vinny.

And Section 37 had a top future prospect, Emerson, a 9-year-old who knew all the chants and all the moves.

"Emerson is the future," said Connecticut Joe, from 37. "And we're the new breed."

So there was that feud going on, and then outside the bleacher entrance, Midget Mike was arguing with Dan Mofsenson about an $18 ticket that Dan sold Mike for $25.

"Not my fault you don't have a ticket," Dan said. "I've been burned so many times before, I'm just trying to get back some money."

"Friends don't do that to friends," Mike insisted.

Somebody suggested that maybe Mike was nobody's friend, but that was beside the point. Dan insisted he wasn't scalping the ticket, that he could make much more than a $7 profit if he put the ticket up for sale. Money ended up on the ground. Feelings were hurt.

This is what happens when yet another playoff series starts badly, when nobody is absolutely certain there will be more games in the Bronx. Creatures exchange telephone numbers with each other, making plans for a possible Halloween party. Bald Vinny brings his entire inventory to his T-shirt stand, just in case.

Tempers flare, depressions set in. You want a bad omen? Somebody threw himself under a subway train on the IND line, police said, causing serious transit delays. "Jeez, we're only down one game," said Donahue, the cynic, wondering what would drive a person to such a desperate act.

Then poor Karen Guregian, a sports writer for the Boston Herald, got off the subway on River Ave. and some kid tried to grab the credential from around her neck. Guregian put her life on the line, fighting off the guy. "I know how hard it is to get this thing," Guregian said.

So things were getting ugly. And there below the el, in all his smirking glory, was Gerard Urciouli, the undercover cop, archenemy of all Bleacher Creatures. "A sweep!" Urciouli was predicting, before the game. "No Andy Pettitte to rescue them. By Sunday, we'll be locking up Bald Vinny."

Game 2 always brings out the vultures.

filipbondy@netscape.net

GRAPHIC: LINDA CATAFFO DAILY NEWS Paul O'Neill throws out first pitch amid in-fighting between sections 37 and 39 in the bleachers.

LOAD-DATE: October 7, 2004