"We like Roy! We like Roy!"

"And now the seniors in the back!"

All Simpsons related jokes aside, "Roy", when written like "RoY" can represent an acronym. It stands for "Rookie of the Year." And this is a roundabout way of mentioning that yours truly, the feisty Head behind the Caliboy Network of blogs, has won some kind of a Rookie of the Year award.

It does feel a little strange to be a thirty-six year old rookie, but at least I'm doing something I love and find rewarding.

There was a ceremony and everything. It happened this past Sunday at Dodger Stadium, as Corrie and I were treated to a game in an event suite. I don't think I've ever been to a ballgame and spent exactly zero dollars on anything. There was a fridge in the suite that was stocked with (not great) beer and there were hotel pans over sterno flames full of food.

There was even a movable photogenic board that we could take pictures in front of:

They gave us official jerseys with our name on them (see above), and while I appreciate it, I would have chosen a different name had I known what was happening when I filled out some paperwork.

There were 23 recipients of this particular Rookie of the Year award; I was easily both the oldest and tallest recipient. I was also the most Irish, and sunburned easily while we waited in the pre-entrance queue. I was also the math guy, and you can guess what that may imply.

The balcony outside the suite was nice, and an upcoming panoramic picture will speak to that. They showed our names on the jumbo-tron and during the first pitch ceremony they showed "closeups" of the balcony, so we could wave and have pictures taken of ourselves off said jumbo-tron:

My mother asked why I wasn't smiling or looking in the direction that everyone else was looking. My only answer was a joke about doing an impression of Vito Corleone, but really the lag-time was so severe that you almost had to spend the entire time waving and looking interested to have the effect be that it was instantaneous.

Anyway, the game was between the Dodgers and the Angels, the Southland's two major league teams. The Dodgers took an early 2-0 lead, and eventually coughed it up, heading into the 8th inning tied at 2. Andre Ethier of the Dodgers drilled a homerun to put the Dodgers up 3-2 in the bottom of the 8th, which meant that a quick three outs in the top of the 9th would give the Dodgers the series sweep. It was not to be.

The second pitcher in the bottom of the 9th gave up a solo homerun, which, after no Dodger scored in the 9th, sent the game to extra innings. It was about here that Corrie and I started to play pool on the suite's pool table.

Yup, our suite had a pool table:

Once the Dodgers came up in the bottom of the 10th and game was still 3-3, someone got on base and Andre Ethier, the near hero from inning 8, smashed a two-run walk-off homer, sending the remaining Dodger faithful into a frenzy and giving the boys in blue a 5-3 victory.

Quite a show. Corrie and I drove surface streets back to Santa Monica where we enjoyed some dinner.

Here is the aforementioned panoramic picture containing me at the edge and the perspective from our event suite: