Let me tell you the story how I met the kids and their fathers. 

Our paths crossed on opening day at the Oakland Athletics home opener at McAfee Stadium against the New York Yankees.

I was selling peanuts and Cracker Jacks to the folks seated near the stadium centerfield wall.

"Get your peanuts here, C-R-A-C-K-E-R J-A-C-K-S!" I bellowed in my deep stadium voice.

I ran down the stairs to this guy in a New York Yankees cap who had motioned an "Alexander Hamilton" in my general direction.

"What will it be Buddy, peanuts or Cracker Jacks?" I asked him. 

The guy looked back at me from beneath a New York Yankees cap and said, "Give us three bags of peanuts and three boxes of Cracker Jacks my good man!"

I dug deep into my box of snacks and before I could hand them over to the guy in the Yankee cap he asked me to do him a favor.

"Do you think you could go back to the top of the stairs and throw the Cracker Jack boxes to the kids to catch with their baseball gloves?"

I looked down the aisle at these three little kids with three different baseball caps on and gloves the size of their dad's heads.

There was this kid named Ruth in a Yankees cap, a kid named Ty in a Tigers cap and a kid named Jackie in a Dodgers cap.

"Sure Bub, but these babes here look fresh out of the high chair and it could get real messy real quick!"

Then I saw "Abe Lincoln" come out of the guys pocket and I snatched it up and high-tailed it back to the top of the stairs, convinced that the kid's dads would be the ones catching my Cracker Jack curveballs.

I grabbed three boxes of Cracker Jacks that seemed a bit heavier than normal.

The first box I aimed at Jackie, the kid in the Dodgers cap and spotting him in the sea of green Oakland A's caps was easy.

"OK kid, get ready because here it comes!" I shouted before launching the box in the kid's general direction.

My first throw was way too high and I saw it start to sail over the kid's head, but then the kid's dad lifted him up high in the air and to my amazement the kid caught it!

"J-A-C-K-I-E  W-O-B-I-N-S-O-N" the kid giggled as he snapped his glove around the cracker jack box and smiled a toothy grin.

By that time everyone was watching so I tried to be more accurate with my second throw.

I spotted my second target, the little kid Ty in the Tigers cap and I compensated for the wind by side-arming a low slider.

The Cracker Jack box skipped off this fat lady's beehive hairdo and into the aisle and I saw Ty slide off his chair and into the aisle and catch it!

Ty's dad brought him back to his seat as the crowd that watched went wild.

I shook my head in disbelief and was convinced that I must be in the middle of some dream so I purposely threw the last box of Cracker Jack extra hard and aimed five rows in front of Ruth in the Yankees cap.

The kid was still sporting a yellow mustache from his hotdog and I could have sworn that the kid winked at me as I threw his box of Cracker Jack.

The box flew hard and straight this time and headed five rows in front of Ruth but the wind caught it and it "boom-a-ranged" and landed smack dab in the middle of Ruth's glove.

Ruth hadn't moved an inch or stopped eating his hotdog for that matter, he had simply stood on top of his chair and outstretched his glove and caught it!

With my "Abe Lincoln" well-earned I headed back to snack central to restock my snack box and tell the other vendors the story of these three incredible little kids.

I walked up to Louie my boss sitting behind the snack counter and handed him my snack box to be filled up again.

"Hey Morris, you idiot, do you realize you've been passing out Cracker Jack boxes from the 1920's!"  Louie yelled as he bit down hard on the world's smallest cigar.

"Yeah right! But if you really want to hear a yarn, I'll have to tell you the story of these three little kids I just threw Cracker Jack boxes to from the top of the stairs," I chuckled back.

"Look at the boxes moron, they're the old original white box with Sailor Jack and Bingo - do you realize that someone's going to get sick and we'll get sued!

"You must've grabbed the big boss's box of collectible Cracker Jacks he bought from an auction the other day!"

"That's probably why the weight of the boxes didn't feel right, they were a bit heavier," I gasped under my breath as the little hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up at full attention.

"Go get those Cracker Jack boxes back before we have three very ill little boys on our hands and a lawsuit to boot!"

I ran back to centerfield with three brand new boxes of Cracker Jacks but it was already the second inning and something huge must have just happened because everyone was standing on their feet.

I looked up at the scoreboard and saw that Alex Rodriguez of the New York Yankees had just hit a rare opening day grand slam and the stadium scoreboard cameras panned to the crowd in centerfield where the ball had landed.

I saw three little boys cheering and blowing three very peculiar looking whistles and Little Ruth was clutching the baseball and dancing.

I also saw three empty white Cracker Jack boxes on the ground and I realized that it was too late; the boys must have eaten the Cracker Jacks and were enjoying their secret surprises when Alex Rodriguez launched his magical grand slam.

I slowly walked up to Ruth's father and asked them if everyone was feeling alright, but I didn't mention my mistake.

"We feel great! My little boy Ruth here caught the grand slam ball and the three boys love their Cracker Jacks secret prizes.  I haven't seen a whistle prize like this before - it's made from tin like in the old days."

I took a quick look at the boy's whistles and saw they were all gold colored tins of a man with a very big mouth - a rare collectible Cracker Jack prize. 

I also scooped up the empty Cracker Jack boxes and told them that I would clear out their trash and congratulated them and headed back to snack central.

Here is the link to the audio version (varies slightly from text):

Giants2.mp3

Here is a story I started to write about the game we all love.

(I will post more).

G-

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Once there were three little boys that loved the game of baseball.

Their fathers were all best friends and the little boys oddly enough were all in their "Terrible Two's" - the point in their childhood life when they were supposed to turn into monsters.

No, they didn't turn into monsters - but let's not get ahead of the story.

The first little boy's name was Ruth and he was bestowed his name by his father who loved the New York Yankees and their famous slugger Babe Ruth - The Bambino - The Sultan of Swat - The Colossus of Clout.

Ruth would be embarrassed by his name later in his life, but at the tender age of two and with a big iron-on number three blazoning his chubby little t-shirt, nobody made fun of him.

The second little boy's name was Ty and as you probably already guessed, his father was a huge Detroit Tigers fan and named him after the mighty Ty Cobb - "The Georgia Peach."

Ty had a quiet demeanor to him but like the real Ty Cobb he had the uncanny ability to slide - he would slide off his high chair, he would slide right out of his car seat, and he would even slide down the stairs with his baby blanket and laugh.

The third little boy's name was Jackie and his father had named him after his favorite Brooklyn Dodger, Jackie Robinson.  The real Jackie Robinson subsequently didn't have a nickname.

Little Jackie was fast at everything and he had just learned to pronounce his name, "J-A-C-K-I-E W-O-B-I-N-S-O-N," even though his real last name was Howard. 

Jackie's father would tuck the little tyke into his bed and would routinely coo the kid to sleep with an old record album by Buddy Johnson that went something like this: 

Did you see Jackie Robinson hit that ball? 


It went zoomin cross the left field wall. 


Yeah boy, yes, yes. Jackie hit that ball.

And when he swung his bat, 


the crowd went wild, 


because he knocked that ball a solid mile. 


Yeah boy, yes, yes. Jackie hit that ball...

Little Jackie never made it to the end of the song because right after the second verse, he was out for the count. "Counting ballpark peanut shells."

Here is a link to an audio version of this entry:

Giants1.mp3

OK, I'm guilty of being preoccupied with my career and my car...sorry. I HAVE been missing being crazy creative with the Yankees.

Lord knows they can use some humor! (BTW, the photo above is a depiction of E-Stein as a podcaster - I'll add the mp3 file below).

In the meantime, cruise on over to my other blog: http://wiredcu.com (It's mostly about Credit Unions and Social Networking, but I'll photoshop and get funny).

Got lots to write about with the Yankees, so I'm coming back.

P.S. So someone fill me in on what I missed in this space - Is my girl Alyssa still blogging or did she quit yet?

G-

Download Here:

Download E-Stein.mp3

At that point in time, Barry hadn't tied the record and I thought I might get a chance to see him maybe tie the record, so I shot off the quickest email reply ever recorded.

Over the next few days I get news that Barry tied the record and that Monday August 6th he is expected to make the history books - so I shrug it off and think that I'll watch him probably swing for 757, no big deal.

ONLY - Barry didn't hit 756 on the 6th - which meant I had a chance to be present at a historic game.

So...I get the tickets from the co-worker this afternoon and bail out of San Jose at 4:00 p.m. and inch my way through the normal bay area traffic to get at the stadium by 5:30 p.m.

I snapped a few photos in front of the Willie Mays statue - grabbed a dog and a beer and followed my ticket to the club level seat in section 202, row b seat 1 (An awesome seat by the way).

I watched Barry continually get good wood on the ball (ok - this sounded funny) so I suspected something magical.

Sure enough...I witnessed the most awesome swing I have seen in quite awhile (much different from A-Rod - not sure how to really explain it).

The thunderous crack of the bat was soon followed by an eruption of fireworks, cheers, and streaming stuff coming down from the sky.

It was a moment I will never forget....

I saw Barry Bonds tie Babe Ruth's record in Oaktown and now I saw the most awesome moment I can remember in my short baseball fan life.

I'm framing my ticket - it was truly a moment to remember!!!!

G-

At some point you have to say, "what the %#!@" about the dismal Yankee standings and enjoy life!

G-

1. If you live anywhere near The Bronx, chances are George Steinbrenner owns the deed to your housing development and you’re afraid he will evict you if he catches you wearing a Mets hat.
2. You “blew a hammy” after attempting former Yankees strength and conditioning coach Marty Miller’s eight-minute cha-cha kicks for stress relief and haven’t been able to reach the remote control to turn the channel.
3. You’re waiting for Oscar Goldman to be appointed the Yankees new Director of Performance Enhancement, because he is the most qualified person to “rebuild them.”
4. You’re still delusional that Roger Clemens will suit up for the Yankees – despite the fact that the current legal sports performance enhancements of Viagra, Ensure and Depends will only get him an extra inning or two.
5. You’ve been hanging out with former mini-boss Steve Swindal down at The Big Cypress bingo parlor in Florida -  watching the game on TV, sipping screwdrivers and yelling “Bingo” for no apparent reason.

I guess it wasn't a good idea to have Mariano Rivera doing Yoga and Pilates and maybe it also wasn't such a good idea to have Johnny Damon workout with John Basedow's Fitness Made Simple DVD's.

G-

You can thank our fellow blogger Chris Los over at The Ultimate Baseball Collector for sparking up some of those old memories into the aging brain cells of this "Big Kid."

Look for the post in a few seconds...

G-

So the Yankees are at the bottom of the standings in the AL EAST and suddenly all I have been doing lately is cursing in EWOK or is it EWOKANESE!!!

Here -- I'll show you.

Mike Myers - CHUMBA BLANGA PIECE A CHAPA!!!! ( I think you can translate that!)(take that MLBlogs filter - hehehe ).

Try it out - it helps ease the pain of LAST PLACE.

Curse in EWOKANESE and "Touch 'em All!"

G-