When the Pre-game beats the living daylights out of the actual game.

A Sunday morning like any other found me at the Starbucks at John and Mercer Streets on my way to the box office at Rogers Centre. Mo and I were meeting up early in hopes of getting tickets for game 4 in the Yankees/Blue Jays series. First things first though, The Sunday New York Times (what can I say, I like a paper it takes all week to read) and a grande cappuccino on my way. I began to dig into the sports section while I waited for the Barista to deliver my capp. Suddenly I hear the cashier yell out "two grande cappuccinos!" and I think to myself, "who are these two people with great taste?". So I turn around and peer over my sports section and what do I see?



Uh huh, none other than Derek Jeter and Jorge Posada. Georgie and the Captain! Only they didn't look like this. Derek was sporting what can be described only as "fancy pants", an incredibly well tailored shirt, a monochromatic shiny orange tie and tasteful sunglasses. He had a tiiiiiny phone in his ear. It was 10:30am. He kind of looked like a stockbroker. Georgie was wearing a white linen shirt, untucked and khakis. His wife probably picked them out. He looked relaxed. He also looked like he wanted to be recognized. He was looking around, scoping out the Starbucks...I'm pretty sure he noticed that I was reading the sports section. Derek looked very focused on staying anonymous and getting his cappuccino unharmed.

And now, I am faced with a moral dilemma. Do I stay silent like the good Canadian I like to think I am? They are, after all, just PEOPLE. They are people like me who just want to get their grande cappuccinos before they go to work. Just because I have spent countless hours cheering them on from the grandstands and the couch and the fetal position on the floor (thank you 2001) does this give me the right to bother them? And besides if I do open my as yet to be caffeinated mouth will I make sense or will I just say something like "EEEEEEEEEE!" and pee my pants? I can't be peeing my pants. I'm going to the game and I do not want to sit in my own urine for the next five hours.

The Barista hands me my grande cappuccino and I think I waited for that look of recognition from Posada. You know that look. The "hey, cool, we ordered the same thing look". I didn't get it. It's do or die. Well, it is then that I clutch my sports section close to me and blurt out "We're going to be rooting for you guys today!". GAH!

Georgie gives me a big, enthusiastic "thanks!" and Derek put his finger on the tiiiiiny phone in his ear, looks over to me and says "sorry, what?" and this time I whisper, as he is clearly on the phone and I am clearly interrupting him and did I mention, my pupils are completely dilated at the point? I look at him and I whisper "we'll be rooting for you today". He smiled and nodded and continued his conversation.

I headed to the box office glad that I didn't play it completely cool and pleased that I didn't make a complete ass out of myself. I also exhaled for the first time in about five minutes. We somehow scored FRONT ROW seats when the game was nearly sold out...things were going our way! As it turns out, save for the fact that Mo caught a foul ball (!) the rest of the afternoon was a bit of a bust. We were trampled by the Jays and there were idiots sitting behind us. What else is new? Ah well, it all started out really nicely. After all, I got to have coffee with two future Hall of Famers.