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daggerzine · 4 years

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Celebrity Mixtape Party #1 with Steve Michener (Volcano Suns, Dumptruck, Big Dipper) Part 1

Steve (far left with Big Dipper)

Mixtapes. They're back! Or maybe they never went away? What happens when you make a mixtape for someone who MAKES music? And then they talk about that mixtape? Well, dear reader, let's find out in..

Okay! First song. Side A. So I'll give my impressions and then we can talk about the song. Okay? Then the reveal, when appropriate.

Sexy

Thanks for this tape, Matthew, I've really been enjoying it. However, I gotta say the first song is my least favorite.

What is it pray tell

I don't know but I usually love that style of song. Very Love/Byrds-y but there was something cloying about that hook of 'Let's Get Together'

Oh yes. Justin Trouble.

Can't tell if it's authentic 60's pop or revival

Early '80s. He was friends with Johnny Thunders.New York City area guy

Never heard of him but I'm not inspired to search him up. Too many words.

Aw man he's just riffing

Anything you wanna say in his defense?

I mean I could. I think that song and the whole record is genius. To me it's the very essence of rock and roll.

Okay, maybe that's just one song that I wouldn't like. I'll check it out. I know you love your 60s stuff but to me it's just too twee. But if you were using this as a "courtship tape", the relationship is over.

Since we can't "get together" on that song?

Courtship tape. I think they were called love mixes back in the day my friend.

I'm older than you. We used to bring them and play them in the parlor. So this second song is right up my Alley. Great guitar sound, great drummer. I love that it's poppy but it takes a minor key/dissonant turn when he sings the tagline 'Solid Gold'. Kind of a Fall vibe to that hook.

So what is that second song?

Boston band....Real Kids...1974 demo...EARLY REAL KIDS

I knew you'd get a Real Kids song on there but that is very 'Unreal' real kids. Sounds like they were way ahead of their time

Yeah. That song is unhinged. Nothing twee about it.

Amazing band. I would have maybe guessed that but that chorus is so left field. If I knew about that song back then, I would have had the band cover it. Real Kids sounding like the Fall. They should have been as big as the Ramones. Worse drug and ego problems I guess.

To me it sounds like The Dolls. A little bit of Glam in there.

I saw them a few times at the Rat. Always a reliable live band. I hear the 60's thing in there but that turnaround into the chorus is at least 5 years ahead of its time. I need to hear more of those demos.

It's on vinyl.

Next song- One thing that I know about you is that you love your 60s stuff. This sounds like an authentic acid rock band. Roky?

I don't have the tracklist

Ah, okay. It's by Girl Trouble-"Storm Warning'. Don't know them but I love the song.

The pride of Bellingham

Kind of like the Seeds meet Nick Cave. What year?

1993 on Empty

Love the sax and guitar interplay at the end. Wow. I would have placed that in 1965

Yeah except for the production. I think he's one of the Great rock and roll vocalists of the '90s

Yeah, great singer. Are they still around or mutate into something else?

Kurt Kendall. No, I don't think they really play around much anymore. There was a reunion show not too long ago but I missed it.

Great stuff, I'll check it out. Next song? Okay, this one I knew from the first note--the great NRBQ. The greatest rock and roll band ever, at least in this incarnation.

Green Lights?

Yes.

I saw them around this time with the WW Horns, opening for Thorogood.

Another great vocalist

I didn't appreciate them back then cuz I was too into the alternative scene (tho still loved GT) but when I saw them in the 80's I was amazed.

This is a band that should have played the bar band in every '80s movie ever made

Exactly. they were my template for 'a band'

That's Joey singing that one? favorite bass player ever, favorite drummer ever.

I'm not entirely sure what that guitar is in the solo. Sounds almost like a pedal steel or something.

Big Al could make anything sound like anything. Genius band. Shoulda been huge.

The YouTube comments say Joey.

Yeah, Joey wrote the hits. Like most bass players.

Lol. The album is called nrbq at Yankee stadium and it's funny because the picture shows an empty Yankee stadium with them far away in the bleachers...a play on words...clever

I see.

I'll explain humor to you another time.

Make me a 'humor' mixtape

Okay next song

The 5th song on side A is called Buried Alive. A 3 chord slab of brilliance. Sounds like another Boston Band. More Real Kids?

Hmmm

Should I peek?

It could be Avenged Sevenfold. Yes peek.

Oh no, it's the Nervous Eaters! Born to Die. I thought he was singing Buried Alive.

Ahhh!!

I knew it was Boston, can't believe I missed the Eaters. Loved that band.

Another Boston band you didn't ID! You are 0 for 2

I wrote down it was "the Lyres without keyboards" so I get half credit.

Okay so one of the cool things about this band is it had one of the Paley Brothers. Who never did anything this "heavy" outside of this band?

I had their singles and saw them live a few times. They were great. Just Head is a classic.

The major label debut was a bit of a disaster: slick production, terrible cover art. I swore that I'd never let that happen to any band that I was in.

This song for some reason reminds me of Judas Priest.

I thought Saints at first but Priest would work

Next song?

This is one that I will probably miss too. Sounds VERY familiar and my first guess is Rockpile/Brinsley Schwarz. "I'll have another drink and then I tried to crawl out the door.."

"I never did know a thing about it." It's got that Nick Lowe/Dave Edmunds vibe.

Take a peek

Status Quo-Lies

Ah yes

Wow, I don't think of SQ sounding like this. This is pub rock, I thought they were harder

Very boogie

Don't you get the Rockpile thing tho?

Oh absolutely

Great song. I'd cover this. Was it a hit?

That status quo song is from 1980. I think so. They did it on Top of the Pops

Good. I'd be depressed if a song that great didn't get an audience.

Agreed

Next?

Yes

I also don't know this and I'm not sure what the hook is but it sounds like what I imagine the Muffs sound like. Be my baby.? Sneering female vocals, 3 chords, loud guitars.

Fastbacks - Read my Letters

Yeah, another band I completely missed out on. From the PNW?

Seattle

I've seen them quite a few times and they were always amazing. Big fan.

I'm sorry I missed them live. I don't care much for this song but I'll bet it sounded good in a sweaty club.

Did you like the Muffs?

Not really. I mean I respect them a lot but they never resonated with me. I think Kurt Bloch is a great lyricist. And I love that he didn't sing his own lyrics.

Wait, that was a guy singing?

No. The guitar player Kurt wrote the lyrics for most of their songs.

Got it. So he left them to join YFF?

He did both simultaneously. Kim Warnick is the singer and bass player.

Too talented.

Definitely.

I saw the Fellows quite a few times also.

They opened for us in Seattle in 1990. I loved them but, as an east coaster, had never seen them.

Also amazing one of my favorites. During that time that both the Fastbacks and the Young Fresh Fellows were active it made me envy Seattle because Portland didn't have bands like those bands.

This is a different convo, but Seattle is a much more rockin town than Portland.

Full disclosure in the '90s I was not a fan of Portland's music scene. But I did like Hazel.

They were so cute!

Alright, let's not get distracted! Next song I recognized easily , though I may not have a few years ago. This is Sparks - Something For The Girl Who Has Everything. Brilliant band but one that I missed out on until recently

You know I never introduced you at the beginning of all this. Dear readers, I am discussing a mixtape with our esteemed guest Steve Michener from Skid Row.

Skid Row UK, legally. Not to be confused with those dorks from Hollyweird. Michael Cudahy was my roommate back in the day and he was way into them. I could never get past the vocals.Recently though, I have come to appreciate them and now I am a big fan.

I love the vocals. It's its own thing. Who is this Michael you speak of?

Michael was in Christmas at the time and then started Combustible Edison. Now he does movie soundtracks.

Have you ever seen the video of Ron Mael singing karaoke to a Sparks song?

No, I'll google it.

Next song?

Well, I didn't recognize the song itself but it's hard to miss the unique guitar sound of The Wedding Present-The Boy Can Wait

Fastest wrist in the west

Trademark double strum. They're one of those bands that I just love the sound of but never bought any records.

That's a Peel session by the way.

They were around last year but I failed to attend.

I like the lyrics. They're clever. Kind of misanthropic but not in a Morrissey way. More humorous.

I'm not a lyric guy but I do love a good Morrisey couplet

The dude could pen a tune

Stephen I mean

Moz

The Moz

Himself.

He should pull a Prince and just change his name to Himself

Next song is one that you would never get past me, tho I'm 0-2 with Boston bands before this. Heading into a Boston binge here.

Ok. Just another band out of Boston

I was the world's biggest Peter Dayton fan for years. I moved to Boston the week that LaPeste broke up so I never got to see them. So I made up for that by seeing every PD gig for years. 'She's a Girl' by LaPeste, probably one of the best bands out of Boston ever.

I like how evil La Peste sound. They sound like they carried shivs.

It means "the pest"

Perfect

"la" is "the" in french

Waow

I don't know if you knew that. Anyway, this must have been an Ocasek demo? Sounds like they were trying to go pop. I had a live tape of them from the rock and roll rumble in 1979 that I wore out. Just a great pop punk band. Next song is also LaPeste- Die in My Sleep.Ric got involved with them later in their career and produced some demos. Or maybe it was Greg Hawkes. But Ocasek worked with him solo for a few years. Dayton's EP, which came out the same time as Panorama by the Cars. It's a fun record.Better off Dead is an amazing single.

I'll check out solo Dayton.

Jim Janota on bass. I think he was in some of those early boston punk bands

But Ric was the producer guy then . Alan Vega etc

Yeah, Ocasek was cool. He had Dayton's band open for The Cars at the Boston Garden. Big supporter of smaller bands.

Next two songs had me stumped. I just wrote 'Sex Pistols'.

I would never put a sex pistols song on anything ever. But I do love a lot of things that Cook and Jones were on later

This just has a Pistols energy and sneer. Hey Hey! Hey Hey!

Hmm

3 chords, English. Fall-like but harder.

Not ringing any bells

Ha! I looked at the list--Naked Raygun-Roller Queen.

Yes

"trying" to be british

Nooo

I tuned this band out early. Not my cup of tea.

I love the Raygun. Midwest thing

Just like Soul Asylum. I was (and remain) a judgemental asshole when it comes to music.

Hard. Arty. Humorous.

I lump them together. Prejudice. But this is why I like the idea of listening to the tape blind.

Throb Throb is fantastic

It can blow up my preconceived notions or reinforce them. I know they were hugely popular in the scene and it's probably my loss that I didn't explore their stuff. I was probably reacting negatively to the Big Black thing. Lots of competition and jealousy-fuelled listening bias.

Eh no biggy. I never really liked Big Black. To me they were great in theory but not in practice.

I prefer Shellac

Great band

But i think BD covered 'Bazooka Joe'. Not my idea.

There was another Chicago band from that time that I like a lot called Breaking Circus.

Yes, I liked Breaking Circus. We played with them.

Yay

Next song. 60s sounding psychedelia

Didn't recognize it, but liked it. reverby guitar,

Hmm

La Luz- I Want to Be Alone. Cool sound. What's their story?

Ah. Seattle. Then moved to LA. 4 women. On Hardly Art (label). Started in 2012. They have three lps. Saw them at The Aladdin.

Short but sweet. I'll check them out.

Very very good band

I like good bands

No bad songs. They were VERY GOOD live. Jealous of the drummer's speed and dexterity. They play with a lot of feeling.

If we ever get to see live music again, I'll check them out.

You need to.

Next song is a classic Boston number called 'No Place Like Home' by The Neighborhoods. Such a great power pop song. B-side to Prettiest Girl, which was probably the biggest indie single of the time in Boston. That and Academy Fight Song. Both on Ace of Hearts records

Oh really? Nice that I got airplay in Boston. I mean it. I didn't get any airplay in Boston

Yes, it was huge! (sorry about your lack of airplay) top song on WBCN, the local rock station. They should have been huge-they had it all. Cute guys, great songs, amazing live show. I woulda bet on them

Despite looking like a reggae album I've read good reviews with their first LP. The thing with a lot of these bands is they're from a time when there were regional scenes period and if they didn't make the jump to Major label then a lot of what they were about might have been lost on people outside of their scene

Honestly, I don't remember that LP at all. Maybe I had dropped them and moved onto hipper stuff. They were kind of a high school crush for me. They got progressively more hard rock as time went on. Yes, probably a common theme with local bands. Some focused on getting a 'deal' and making it big. Thank god for labels like Homestead, who gave smaller bands a chance to make mistakes and grow

If you had any anecdotes about any of these guys share away.

Anecdotes? I do

'dote away

Dave and Lee worked at Harrington's Liquor, the biggest booze shop in Allston and were always in there when I went to buy cheap vodka. Then, one day, they were fired. Word was that they tried to lift some expensive champagne from the shop to celebrate a record release party or something. They were both dating members of Salem 66 at the time and Dave married Judy. They were very nice guys.

Lee?

Lee Harrington, Beth's brother was their bassist in the late 80's. Beth Harrington was in Jonathan's band.

That's a good anecdote.

Jonathan?

Richman

Oh I thought I recognized her voice from Jonathan Richmond records. She was a backup singer. She had kind of a classically trained sounding voice

Yes, her and Ellie Marshall. Beth married my old roommate, whose girlfriend when I knew him, left him for Steve Forbert.

Ellie Marshall was related to who?

Something related to Paley Bros. It'll come to me. Barry Marshall.

The next song is the Office Supply song. Swivel Chair. I don't recognize the song but it's gotta be something like Fountains of Wayne or Weezer.

Nothing Painted Blue

Oops. Hope they aren't insulted! I kinda knew of NPB but obviously didn't get into their stuff. Sounds like a certain pop band from Boston in the late 80s. Where were they from?

Franklin Bruno. Great songwriter in my opinion. Great band. LA

Oh, I know Franklin. Of course. I confuse them with that band from Boise

Franklin bears a slight passing resemblance to Bill? Cool that you know Franklin.

Well, on FB at least. Very nice guy. He's probably gonna unfriend me if he reads this.

I can edit it out. Celebrity mixtapes is about bringing people together, not about fighting.

No, it's fine. It's part of the process. I'll take my lumps.

I just thought it was a little bit of a novelty song.

I just think it's adorably nebbishy

Not that we didn't veer close to that sometimes. It's a risk when you are trying to write songs that have humor in them.

Singing about office supplies. One of my favorite things about Big Dipper is you guys never crossed over into parody even though you were slyly funny.

Yeah, it def sounds like something I would write. I was an office supply nerd.

Maybe I sensed that. Dilbert Rock

Thanks. It's a fine line between clever and stupid, as the Tap says. Anyway, super catchy but maybe a little too clever for me.

NEXT!

Next song has to be Scrawl. Apple of his Eye.

Nope

Very Gang of Four with female vocals.

I did like Scrawl back in the day though. Bratmobile-Queenie.

Ah, well they should write a check to Sue and Marcy. Sounds like early Scrawl. Catchy song but a little derivative to my ears.

Yeah Scrawl predates the Bratmobile.By a few years.

You could steal from worse.

True

Scrawl were an amazing band.

Pride of Columbus

Really had the goods live and on record.

Never saw them live unfortunately.I always thought they were on Homestead but it turns out no.

You had your Homestead goggles on.

"I like everything that comes out on Homestead..."

Well that was me back then too

Last song on side A. Permanent Wave. No idea who it is, a short, catchy, new wave song. Mo-dettes?

I do like the Mo-Dettes but no.

Oh Ok. From Athens

Ah! i had their single, was this on it?

Michael Stipe's sister

Sister of Stipe

Matthew Sweet was in the band for a minute too, later on.

I bought it, I think, cuz I thought I could resell it when rem got famous. Retirement investment

I think the single and the lp are both amazing

Kind of twee, to revisit a theme

The lp is not as twee

That song sounds a little thin

I like the production. it sounds live.

I see that. Okay, I've gotta run. This was fun.

Ok. Thanks for doing it.

https://www.mixcloud.com/matthewkenneth9/steve-michener-mix-pt-1/?fbclid=IwAR2hhMS8KXo51QjlpJ__ANfdmKY3Ux7vRyIqHHOxGfY_UK4H6tz6vIXyaxE

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let-it-raines · 6 years

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Betting on the Bullseye (16/?)

Summary: Emma Swan loses a bet that means she has to ask her celebrity crush to be her date to her office’s annual fundraising gala. Killian Jones is that celebrity crush. She expects all kinds of humiliation and for her dignity to be completely lost. What she doesn’t expect is for him to say yes.

Rating: Mature

A/N: I didn’t have to edit, Nonnie, so sometime this weekend turns out to be Friday night! Happy weekend, you guys!

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tag list: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @artistic-writer @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @galaxyzxstark @lifeinahole27 @andiirivera @ultimiflos @hollyethecurious @thejollyroger-writer @superchocovian @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings

Over the course of June, Killian’s sure that he flies between Los Angeles and Boston more times than any other passenger. He’s not really working consistently while Emma is, so he’s constantly loading up on a plane, racking up miles every time just to spend a day or two in Boston before he’s flying back for a meeting or a pre-made appointment. Sometimes he has to simply show up an event, let people see him wearing clothes, and then he can leave. He thinks those are his least favorite, but as much as acting is his job, that is too.

Sometimes he really wonders about his life. It’s definitely not normal. He knows that, but he’s honestly used to it. He was comfortable with it, but that was before he fell in love with a woman who lives three thousand miles away.

(Two thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine miles to be exact. He looked it up.)

Honestly, though, he’d spend his life on a plane just to be with her. Will calls him sappy (a sappy wanker actually), and while he might be, he doesn’t really care. It’s definitely worth it.

Emma is worth it.

Damn, okay, maybe he is sappy.

Of course, with his frequent flying and the few posts he’s made about Emma online, never showing her face or saying her name, the amount of pictures of him on the internet has increased drastically. With that, journalists and paparazzi have begun to investigate where he’s going, often finding him in Boston with Emma when they’re out to eat or running outside. Last week they went to the Red Sox game when they were playing the Yankees, bringing her friends with them, and he couldn’t even begin to count the amount of people that were waiting outside of the stadium when he left. What could possibly be so interesting about him walking out of a baseball game he’ll never know.

According to Robin, they’ve recognized Emma from their first date at the charity gala, and with every new picture that’s taken, there’s some other bogus article about them, the information supposedly coming from their close friends. Considering that everything about it is bullshit and that none of their friends would ever talk to a journalist, he’s not too concerned about it all. Really, everything is gossip, just articles that are made for clicks, and the only concerns he truly has about all of it is Emma and her well-being.

She seems to be fine, says that she’s fine, and is always telling him that she understood what she was getting into to a certain extent. It hasn’t been as bad as it once had been in the past, his lack of released projects likely helping with that, and he’s never been so thankful for not having worked as much as he usually does. She did say there were some photographers outside of her apartment last week, which isn’t a shock since they managed to find it the night of their first date, but that it hadn’t been enough to make her uncomfortable.

He, however, is entirely uncomfortable with anyone trailing after Emma and her home. He’s the one who chose this profession and everything that comes with it, and while he doesn’t like it, he should be the one to have to take all of the displeasure and annoyances that come with it, not his girlfriend when she’s simply trying to go throughout her life like she always has.

Emma’s flying out to him tomorrow, though, claiming that she wants to spend some time at the beach for the weekend. She took Friday off, has been working her arse off all week to make up for it too, and he’s excited to see her while also being able to spend time in his own home. He’s not saying his bed is more comfortable than Emma’s, but his bed is definitely more comfortable than Emma’s.

She admits to it as well.

His bed is bloody comfortable.

“You have issues, man,” Will whistles, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge and settling down on a stool while Killian continues to wash their plates from lunch.

“What issues do I have?”

“You’ve been in here scrubbing three plates for over fifteen minutes. And you’re just going to put them in the washer too. I don’t see the point.”

Killian shrugs, rinsing his plate off one more time before drying it with a towel. “It’s a force of habit. Didn’t have a dishwasher growing up and had to do things by hand. I’ve never quite gotten out of the habit. Also, you’re not supposed to insult the hands that feed you.”

“Before you eat, mate. It’s after. You can’t spit in my food now.” “I’ll save it for next time. What time do you have to be down at the bar?”

“Seven. I’m working until closing, which always sucks on Wednesdays. Who the hell stays out until closing on Wednesdays?”

“People who need something to drink about or who don’t have normal jobs. Or kids. So, really, most people in this city.”

“True,” Will sighs, taking another sip of his water. “I’m still waiting for you to give me a fancy job like Rob where I can finally work semi-normal hours.” “I told you. Come up with something you can do, and I’ll let you do it. Though you do serve a mean drink.” He opens up the dishwasher and puts the plates inside, checking to see how much longer until he can run the thing. “Is the match still going on?”

“Yeah, it’s in the beginnings of the fifth set. I think Rob is going to pull his hair out. But not for him. Rol has apparently been freaking out for the whole tournament. Tennis is his new thing, says Messi and Ronaldo are old news.” “Ah, to be young and switch interests so quickly.”

“Bloody hell,” Robin groans from the living room, loud enough for them to hear in the kitchen. “Why would you do that? You should have gone down the line instead of cross court.”

“Do we need to go save him before he rips all of his hair out and breaks your TV?”

“I don’t care about his hair, but I do care about my TV.”

“I can hear you,” Robin yells, the displeasure in his voice obvious. “You try having a son who’s freaking out about this match while he’s supposed to be learning how to use correct grammar at school.”

“I’ll get to working on that,” Will jokes, sliding back in his stool while Killian grabs himself a water bottle as well. “Though I don’t really think a lass will want to have a kid with me just so I can yell at the TV. I think that’s the opposite of what they want.”

“Just shut up and come watch the match,” Robin groans, and Killian shakes his head back and forth while laughter rumbles through his stomach.

“You two are ridiculous.”

-/-

Emma: I just boarded the plane. See you soon! Is there a way you can make the rain forecast go away?

Kilian: Let me just use my magical powers, and I’ll do that for you.

Emma: You’re da bomb diggity.

Emma: Pretend I didn’t type that.

Killian: Never. Be safe, love.

Emma: I shall not wear my seatbelt and will walk around during turbulence.

Killian: The definition of safety.

He goes back to lounging on his couch and flipping through channels on the TV. It’s been a long time since he was this bored, and he’s contemplating asking Elsa to bring Aiden over to the house just so that he has someone to talk to. Of course, he’s thinking about having a baby for his conversational partner, so he’s not sure how good of an idea that is.

Elsa would be here too, but he honestly wasn’t thinking about having her to talk to. He may be a horrible brother-in-law. And friend. So both. He’s terrible with both.

He’ll have to go see them sometime next week. He’s saw Liam when they went to dinner Monday night, but Elsa had been going to spend time with her friends. Maybe Emma will want to go over there this weekend, or they can come here and spend the day at the beach with them.

If he makes the rain go away. He’s supposed to be doing that.

He really might be bored enough to be delusional.

Sighing, he keeps flipping through the channels and leaves it on Friends, knowing if anything that can just play in the background while he fiddles around on his phone. He might need to pick up a new hobby other than reading and exercising. And he’s pretty sure that exercising is technically part of his job.

Does he really only have one hobby? Well, taking his boat out must count. So that’s two.

He’s got to work on this apparently.

Slowly but surely the hours pass as he alternates between watching TV and wandering around his house, cleaning up and straightening anything that’s out of place. If he wasn’t always traveling, he’d get a dog to keep him company, and he definitely spent at least two hours looking at different breeds just now.

He wants them all.

His phone buzzes to tell him there’s someone at the gate, and when he checks the video feed, it’s Emma punching in the code and walking through with her weekend bag slung over her shoulder. He immediately gets up from the couch and walks to his front door, swinging it open and running outside to catch Emma before she bothers going through the garage.

“Oh hey,” she begins when she sees him twisting her body at the sound of the door opening. “Were you watching the cameras because – ”

He doesn’t let her finish, grabbing onto her waist and pulling her to him with his lips, effectively quieting her words while she gasps into her mouth. It’s only been a week, but he’s been anxiously awaiting her being here for the entire time. Missing her isn’t getting any easier. If anything, he thinks it’s getting a bit harder. She tastes like coffee and minty gum, a combination that’s not great, but he doesn’t really care with the way she’s sliding her lips over his and threading her fingers into his hair, her nails scratching at the sensitive spots on his scalp. God, he loves her a ridiculous amount, and he’ll never not be thankful that she allows him to be a part of her life.

“Were you watching the cameras?” she sighs breathlessly when she pulls back, resting her forehead against his, her skin ridiculously warm while a breeze blows past them, the impending storm picking up. “Because I can’t decide if that’s sweet or creepy.”

“Just be quiet, Swan,” he laughs, gliding his lips over hers again and sucking on her upper lip. He quite likes the little noise she makes when he does it, and he’d like to hear it as often as possible. “And I wasn’t watching. My phone sends me a message whenever there’s someone at the gate.” “Fancy.” “I try to be. You want to come inside?” “Why, Mr. Jones,” she begins in an exaggerated accent, “you have to buy me dinner first before I come inside. I am a lady. I can’t just go home with any man.”

“Did you watch a period piece on the plane?” “Absolutely I did.” “That’s what I thought.”

The moment they get inside and have the door closed, Emma drops her bag to the ground and wraps her arms around his neck while he backs her up to the front door, rolling his hips against hers while his mouth moves over hers with more force and more intensity than it did outside. This is how most of their reunions go, hurriedly greeting each other and making up for all of the lost time that they’ve missed while apart. She’s bloody intoxicating in the way the she feels against him, the way that her tongue feels as it dances with his, and with the way that her hands move along his shoulders and up and down his sides, snaking up under his shirt at the same time this his hands find the warm skin of her stomach.

“I smell like airport.” “You know I don’t care. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she sighs before gasping as his lips trace along her jaw, nipping slightly and soothing every bite with his tongue. He doesn’t want to leave a mark, won’t leave one, but she likes when he teases her. He likes it too.

“That seemed like the longest flight of all time.” “You weren’t…ah fuck, you weren’t even on it.”

“I was waiting for you.” “Again, it sounds creepy without context.”

He chuckles against her ear before kissing the lobe all the while his thumbs ghost over her nipples through her bra. He can feel the lace underneath his touch, and it sends a shiver down his spine. She’s not usually one for pretty little underwear, so he’s not going to complain when he’s gifted with this.

“You talk far too much when I’m supposed to be taking your breath away.” “Do a better job,” she teases him, resting her forehead against his shoulder while she maneuvers herself to wrap her legs around his waist, grinding her core into his so that they both groan. “You can take me upstairs now.” “Not feeling like walking?” “Not at all.”

He walks her down the hallway and to the stairs all the while her lips trail across his jaw and down his neck, the pressure at the base of his spine continuously building and building and building to the point where it’s almost painful not to be inside of her right now.

“Oh my God, KJ,” she gasps when he stops to readjust her in his arms on the middle landing, “don’t you dare drop me.”

“I’m not going to, love. That’s why I’m adjusting you. This isn’t as easy as you’d think when my entire body is thrumming with frustration.”

“Thrumming?” “It’s a word.”

“Yeah, but it’s kind of weird word when you think about it. I mean – ”

“Emma, my love,” he interrupts continuing to take the steps upstairs since he’s now confident he won’t drop her, “I will absolutely sit with you and talk about language in about twenty minutes, but I need you to not think about the origins of the word thrumming right now.”

“Oh you think you’re going to last that long when you’re thrumming with desire?”

He drops Emma on the bed the moment he’s close enough to it, letting her bounce just because she’s being a smart arse, but she doesn’t seem at all deterred by that. “You are driving me mad.” “I know, I know,” she squeals as he peppers kisses across her face while undoing his zipper. “I just feel like humming would be a better choice there and – ”

He cuts her off with a kiss. It’s all he can do when she’s in a playful mood like this and wants to have an absolutely ridiculous conversation with him when he really does feel as if he may burst from frustration, desire, or whatever the hell Emma wants to call it. Honestly, he loves her, but he missed her like mad and needs this right now. And Emma’s very obviously not protesting with the way she whimpers into his mouth.

Despite their brief interlude, it’s a rush of clothing being removed and bodies melding into each other just as their lips have been. She feels fucking fantastic wrapped around him as she moves up and down above him, and he has to briefly close his eyes with the pleasure of it all. They’ve truly gotten into a groove as of late, finally having time to learn more about each other’s bodies and pleasures as they spend more time together, and he can absolutely feel all of the proof of that right now.

It’s honestly like heaven.

Emma falls apart before he does despite how keyed up he’s been, but he doesn’t last long after her, not with the way she feels pulsing (thrumming) around him and the way she whispers his name over and over again into his ear while her nails dig into his shoulders. It was quick and a bit messy, maybe even a little harsh, but as they both rest against each other while catching their breaths, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hold on, darling,” he whispers, moving her off of him while he walks into the bathroom on still shaky legs to clean himself up and get a wash cloth for Emma. He gently cleans her up before pulling on his boxers and tossing the cloth in the laundry bin as he settles back into bed where Emma is still stretched out. “You not going to move, Swan?”

“In a minute,” she yawns, slowly sitting up and propping herself up on her elbows. “The jet lag is hitting me right now. Like, hard. I think I was run over by the plane at some point.” “Why don’t you go to sleep?” “I’m trying,” she yawns again, slowly getting up from the bed and stretching her limbs out the slightest bit. “Will you be, like, the best man in the entire world and go get my bag from downstairs? I’m just going to wear your pajamas, but I need my toothbrush.”

“I bought you one to keep here when I went shopping the other day. And I stocked up on some more of your shampoo.”

“Is it the – ”

“Yep, it’s the electronic kind that you and your special teeth like.”

“Bless you,” she sighs, coming over to him and cupping her cheeks before slanting her lips over his while his hands rest at her hips. “I love you, and I know I’m, like, deliriously tired, but that is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.” “Yeah, we’re definitely going to have to work on that then.” He gently slaps her arse while their lips are still ghosting over each other. “Go get dressed and try out that toothbrush, Swan.”

“I most definitely will.”

-/-

He’s standing in his kitchen drinking his mug of coffee the next morning when Emma stumbles down the stairs with all of the grace she usually possesses as she walks over his pajama pants that are far too long on her. Usually she rolls them up, but she must have just decided to take the risk of tripping and walked down the stairs like that. Honestly, he’s not even really sure if she’s actually fully awake right now with how sleep rumpled she is.

“G’morning, love.” “Morning,” she gruffs, walking toward him and taking his coffee out of his hands only to take a sip and scrunch up her face. “This is disgusting.” “That’s because it’s made for me and not for you. You don’t like black coffee. I do.”

“You’re weird,” she moans, resting her head against his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist after putting the mug down. She must be exhausted, all of her sleep making her groggier than usual, and he lets her rest there, rubbing his hand up and down her back while her hair gets caught in his mouth. Her hair is really something else. “I’m tired.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” She weakly hits his back before pulling away from him. “Sorry for taking your coffee. I’m going to make an actual, drinkable cup now, and you can keep your nasty one to yourself.”

“Sounds like a plan, Stan.”

“Ha,” Emma laughs, her eyes lighting up, “I knew that I’d get you to say it!”

“Aye, Swan, you’ve bested me with your odd little sayings.”

“Yes, exactly.” She pokes him in the stomach before moving around him and preparing her own cup. “I said bloody hell the other day, so we obviously both have problems.”

It’s nice to have a slow, quiet morning with Emma. There’s no impending plane ride tomorrow, no immediate rush to do everything they absolutely can in twenty-four hours, so they sit in his living room, drinking their coffee and eating the bagels he had delivered this morning. Usually he’d cook something, but he wasn’t feeling like it this morning, figuring he could just order in while Emma was sleeping upstairs.

He really likes having her here, and while he knows it’s far too soon to even suggest it, he wishes it could be a permanent thing. He keeps thinking about it, though, thinking about the fact that Emma could have more than just her toothbrush here.

She’s laughing at the beginning of the Hangover, something he’d like to get to experience more often, and while he wonders why that movie is playing before noon on a Friday, he’s not going to question it when he can already feel his stomach rumbling with laughter as well. Suddenly Emma’s phone starts ringing, the vibrations causing it to move across the coffee table, and she leans forward to pick it up. “Hello?” she answers, adjusting her legs and tucking them underneath her. “Oh hey, Rubes. Rubes? Hey, Ruby?” she soothes, her voice calm yet firm, and he immediately mutes the television so Emma can hear. “Ruby, you have to stop cursing and tell me what’s wrong. Are you okay? Is Marg okay?”

She looks over at him with fear in her eyes, the green brighter than usual, but he can see them relax while Ruby tells her whatever she tells her. He can’t hear, the sounds muffled, but if Emma wanted him to, she’d put in on speaker.

“Oh, Rubes,” Emma sighs, getting up from the couch and pacing the room, “I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk about what happened?”

He has absolutely no idea what’s happening, what’s wrong with Ruby, but he watches Emma move back and forth in front of his television, running her hand through her hair multiple times all the while biting her lip. She doesn’t look upset, not truly, but she’s definitely not happy. The fact that she’s not crying soothes him in the fact that he doesn’t think someone has died or been in an accident.

He wants to know because he’s curious, but he also wants to know because he wants everyone to be okay. He’s really come to care about Emma’s friends.

“I’m going to be home Sunday night. I promise. I’ll come over to your place, or you can come over to mine. It doesn’t matter, but why don’t you go spend some time with Marg? I know you probably want to be alone, but Marg really does help. And I know for a fact that she’s got a bunch of good junk food in her freezer. I love you, Rubes.”

Ruby obviously says a few more things, Emma nodding her head to all of them, before she’s hanging up her phone, placing in on the coffee table, and then coming to straddle his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

He rubs his hand up and down her back in what he hopes are calming circles. “What’s wrong, Swan? You okay?”

“Fine,” she mumbles into his skin before pulling back and settling back on his thighs. He gently take her hand in his, bringing her wrist to his lips and kissing the skin there several times. “I mean, I feel really shitty for being here because Ruby and Victor broke up and I’m not there to comfort her. She took the day off of work and everything, and Ruby is not one for moping. But she’s moping. I think we really all hoped it was going to work out for them this time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“You’re not home because you’re here with me. I’m sorry for Ruby, and I’m sorry you can’t be there with her.”

“It’s okay,” she sighs, and he can tell that she only partially means it. “Marg is much more comforting, and then by the time Ruby’s ready to bash Victor, I’ll be there with all of the things that bothered me about him but that I never voiced.”

“Is the hair number one on that list?”

“Stop,” she groans, scrunching up her face and slapping his shoulder. “That’s awful.” “I mean, that is probably pretty tame compared to what’s going on in your mind right now.”

“True.” Emma dips her head and slants her lips over his. She tastes like her coffee, the vanilla creamer obvious, and he can’t say he minds, not when the taste is on her lips and not in his coffee. It’s much better than the mint and coffee of last night. “I love you.”

He reaches up and tucks her hair behind her ears, the strands continuously falling, before looking up at her through his lashes while his thumb traces over her cheek, over the freckles that reside there. “I love you, too. Do you want to go out to the beach to get your mind off of things?” “I’d like that.”

The temperature continues to rise throughout the day, but with the way the sky is overcast, the heat isn’t overwhelming. If anything, it almost makes it cool despite being over eighty degrees. And as the dark clouds move in, thunder rumbling in the air, he only gets a few minutes to appreciate Emma in the scrap of fabric she has on before they’re rushing inside already soaked to the bone with how quickly the rain fell.

He thought maybe the storm wouldn’t come after it didn’t break last night, but he was apparently wrong about that.

After they’ve both quickly rinsed the sand off in the shower and changed into warmer clothes, they settle down in his room, Emma pulling the comforter practically up to her chin while he flips through the channels trying to find something to watch. Emma teases him when they pass one of his movies, practically begging to watch, but he refuses and settles on one of the Oceans movies just to have something playing. Friday afternoon is obviously not prime time for movie replays.

Obviously Fridays are just bad for television overall.

Emma’s been herself all day, but he can tell that not being at home with Ruby is definitely bothering her. She’ll get quiet every now and then, her gaze trailing away, and she’s got her phone by her side constantly when she usually leaves it alone for a little while, not always having to be on it. He wishes he could help, had offered to pay for her ticket so she could go home early, but she insisted that it was fine, that it really will be better for her to stay. Still, he can tell that she wishes she was at home, especially when she walks out of the room to talk to Mary Margaret for at least an hour.

“We should do something with your family tomorrow,” she tells him. “Or Will and Robin. I don’t know. As much as I love sitting inside with you with it pouring down rain outside, we probably should leave this house at some point. Or maybe have people come to us.” He wraps his arm around her shoulder, tugging her closer and kissing her temple. “Elsa did say she wanted to do something with you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“How?”

He can feel her shrug under his arm. “We text.” “Really now?”

“Hey, don’t be so surprised. I like her. Also, I know that you and Marg talk about food all of the time, so it’s really not weird.”

“I never said it was, love.”

“It was implied, KJ.”

-/-

“You’re such a cutie,” Emma coos to Aiden, brushing his hair off of his face while she lays on the floor of Elsa’s house with him so that they can play with all of the toys he has scattered across the ground. Aiden’s taken quite a liking to her, which is good considering his fondness for only liking people he knows. “You remind me so much of Leo.”

Aiden runs one of his trucks over Emma’s stomach, and she doesn’t even care, laying out on the ground and making Aiden giggle with all of her theatrics.

“If anything, I think I’m going to keep you around to entertain my kid,” Elsa laughs, settling down next to him on the couch and handing him the tea she’s been making.

“I mean, I’m being run over by giant trucks right now, so it’s very hard work. I feel like I need a pay raise.” “We’ll negotiate later.” Elsa nudges his shoulder, making him tear his eyes away from where Emma is now tickling Aiden’s stomach, their combined laughter filling the room.

“What?”

“Slow your roll,” Elsa whispers into his ear, squeezing his shoulder.

“What are you on about, lass?”

“You’re thinking about future things,” Elsa continues, and he can feel the blush rising in his face and reaching the tips of his ears. He is thinking about future things, has been all weekend, but watching Emma with Aiden is filling him with more thoughts than it should. One day at a time. They take things one day at a time, maybe a few weeks at a time, but they’re not thinking years ahead. He’s thinking years ahead. “I can see all of the gears turning in your head, see the way you’re making all of these plans.”

“I am not.” “You are.” She rubs her hand up and down his arm while he takes a sip of his tea, letting the warm liquid wash down. “And I’m so happy for you, but you gotta take the baby steps before you take the running leaps.”

He hums, knowing that she’s telling the truth. Honestly, though, even with all of his thoughts about the future, he knows this. He’s not looking to do anything that he’s not ready for. He’s not looking to do anything that Emma’s not ready for.

“Thank you for your all-knowing advice, oh wise one.”

“Shut up,” she groans, slapping his shoulder before pulling back and picking up her tea from the coffee table and drinking it. “Emma, let me know when you’re tired of fooling with him, and I’ll pull Liam out of his office so that the three of us don’t have to have him constantly in our sights.” “Are we talking about Aiden or Killian here?”

Elsa giggles beside him, blinking down into her cup all the while he feels the tips of his ears heat again. “Sweetheart,” he sweetly begins, “I will leave you here and change the gate code at the house if this is how things are going to be.”

“Hmm,” Emma mumbles, pulling Aiden up to stand on her stomach, “I think I’ll just stay here. I feel like Aiden will gladly share his room with me. He’s much cuter than you too.”

“This is so true.”

“Bloody hell,” he grumbles into his cup. “I’ve made a mistake introducing the two of you. This is not nearly as entertaining as when we’re all ganging up on Liam.” “That’s because Liam is much more fun to make fun of,” Elsa laughs, having to wipe the corners of her eyes. “He gets much more flustered than you, which is saying something.”

They stay over at Liam and Elsa’s while the storm rains itself out, coating the city in water that it probably desperately needed, especially with the summer heat taking full effect. It’s nice listening to the steady rhythm of the rain beating against the house, watching it fall down through the floor-to-ceiling windows they have leading out to the backyard, and while he had no intention of staying here all day, it’s exactly what happens. Emma falls asleep in a recliner, a blanket pulled up around her legs and Aiden snuggled into her chest, while he and Elsa watch TV and eat food, catching up on everything they’ve missed while Liam finally leaves his office and joins them.

It’s one of those days where you know it’s good while it’s happening, and even though Emma wanted to spend time out at the beach while she was out here, he doesn’t think that the rain has been a bad thing.

It’s actually been a good one.

Really good.

#betting on the bullseye #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic

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istheresomebodywhocanimagine · 6 years

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Hey I saw your ships are open again. I wanted to ask I f you could make me one for Queen and the boharp cast? I am 5’0 black curly locks that go to my mid back, green eyes pale skin and I have lots of earrings and piercings in my ear. I love to play the guitar, singing, listening to music and watching tv shows and movies. I am quite the sassy person, also sarcastic at times but I am also a very good listener and I love to smile and just goof around. Well yeah that’s it I suppose.

Hello!!! Hi sorry this took so long but im HERE NOW gosh i had so many requests before this and i already knew who i wanted to ship you with from the moment I saw this ahhhh

Anyways here goes (it’s all below the cut hehe i dont wanna clog anyones dash)

For BoRhap, I 100% ship you with Joe Mazzello!

Joe is the perfect match for you, just because he can keep up with your wit and humor so well! He loves how sassy and sarcastic you are, and his energy fuels your sharp tongue and goofy sense of humor.

He loves goofing off more than anything (see above gif), so he’s always trying to embarrass you in public, but you just end up outdoing him anyways.

“Hey, babe, look!” he’d yell almost tauntingly, daring you to look up at him from your phone as you tried to post your picture with Lucy. When you’d look up, he’d be break-dancing rather terribly to the music playing, Ben cheering him on and recording it while simultaneously trying to not die from laughter.

But you wouldn’t be embarrassed - in fact, you’d go in and show him up, stepping between him and Ben’s phone so that you were the main focus instead. He’d try to have a dance battle with you, but would quickly give up once he realized that you were a superior dancer/master at silliness.

Ben’s video would end with Joe picking you up, pretending to be mad and storming off with you as you squealed and laughed in his arms, begging Lucy or Ben, or really anyone to help you.

Speaking of helping, you love helping him catch up on TV shows and movies once he’s been away for a while. Filming takes up a lot of his life once he’s got a job, so he misses out on a lot of good movies and shows when he’s away, which prompted you to start keeping lists of everything he needs to watch once he returns from whatever he’s working on.

He loves this. A lot.

What else does he love? You in baseball caps. Whether or not you like baseball, Joe is a big baseball guy, so seeing you in a baseball cap, seated next to him in Yankee or Dodger Stadium? That’s heaven to him.

He sneaks cute little pictures of you during the game, too. A lot of them. He won’t stop until you’re grinning and trying to take his phone, and even then, he’ll sneak a few more.

They’re his favorite pictures of you - but he doesn’t post them on social media, preferring to keep them for himself. While Joe Mazzello is no stranger to social media, he feels oddly protective about his pictures of you. He instead saves them for himself, then looks back on them all the time when he’s been away from you for a while.

While we’re on the topic of being away for a while, Joe also has a tendency to ask you for videos of you singing/playing the guitar when he’s been away. Your favorite time was when he was working on BoRhap.

“Just one!” he’d begged, his voice pleading with you over the phone to send him a video of you playing a song, any song. He didn’t even care if it was Wonderwall, or some other overplayed song. “I just want to hear your voice, babe.”

“You are hearing my voice, right now,” you’d giggle, and Joe would groan melodramatically at your cheeky way of turning it around on him. “Alright, alright, give me a minute,” you’d finally assented, Joe cheering on the other side of the phone as you grinned, shaking your head.

Once you’d sent the video, it was a moment before you’d heard back from him, but he also sent a video in response. Clicking on it, you were immediately greeted with the loud sound of him practically yelling in excitement, his face taking up the screen as he situated the phone in his hand so it was easier to hold.

“You’re a natural!” he’d yelled, and then he’d received a small flick on the ear from an unknown person, who turned out to be Ben once you’d heard his voice admonishing Joe for being so loud while they were filming.

The camera had then turned to Ben, who’d waved and blew a kiss once he realized he was being recorded.

Joe quickly took the phone back, focusing it on his face again with a faux stern look. “Don’t catch that kiss, babe. Let it fly. Okay, wait, catch this one. I love you. Bye!” He’d then blown you a kiss himself, and the video cut off as you’d seen Ben’s hand come into the frame, grabbing the ‘kiss’ and laughing as Joe yelled in protest.

When it comes to looks, Joe is absolutely obsessed with you. The first time he’d went on a date with you, he’d accidentally admitted that he first noticed you because of your hair and eyes.

“It was just so striking, I had to get to know you,” he’d said, almost blushing as he recalled the first time he’d met you. You were both at a mutual friend’s party in NYC, and he’d actually gone above and beyond to come talk to you - meaning he nearly tripped over a rug on his way over.

But he thought you hadn’t noticed, so he wouldn’t tell you that, and you’d never admit that you actually had seen his stumble. You thought his clumsiness was endearing, and it’s the reason you’d entertained his attention in the first place.

“What do you mean by that?” you’d asked, hiding your pleased smile behind your glass of wine as you watched him over the rim.

“I mean, look at you,” he chuckled, gesturing to you and smiling widely. His eyes, which were always so animated, looked positively enchanted as he looked over you for a second. “You’re beautiful, how could I not be blown away when I saw you? That curly black hair...“ he’d trailed off, dramatically clutching at his chest as he feigned breathlessness.

That had provoked a delighted giggle out of you, and he’d grinned goofily as he also took a drink of his wine, chuckling at himself.

And that’s how you spend most of your time together. Laughing, because nothing is better for the two of you than the feeling of making each other laugh.

Plus, Joe is damn funny, and so are you. Win-win.

For Queen, I ship you with.... drumroll please.... crickets.... Brian May!

My reasoning? Well, Brian is a bit more reserved than you, and it took him a minute to warm up to you in the beginning. Your sense of humor was a bit more advanced than his was, and he could hardly keep up with your banter, which got him flustered.

“Brian, can you help us out here a bit? You’ve been tuning Red for a fucking hour now, I think it’s good,” Roger had complained, you and him struggling to figure something out on one of the amps in the studio since John had stepped out.

Brian had shrugged, setting Red aside and joining you two in your pondering of what the hell was going wrong. Brian almost jumped when you spoke, it was so quiet between the three of you.

“She, Rog,” you’d chastised, giving Brian a knowing look. But Brian had no idea what the hell you were talking about, and he cocked his head to the side as he looked at you curiously. “It’s a she.”

“What’s a she?” Brian had asked, completely forgetting about what Roger had just said moments ago. “The amp?”

“No, silly, Red,” you’d laughed, making Brian blush lightly as he felt like an idiot once he remembered Red, sitting back on the couch. “I reckon Red is a she, just like boats are shes. I call my guitar a she. You’ve got to treat your women right, Rog.”

“Um, yeah,” Brian stuttered out, almost confused by what was taking place. He wasn’t quite on your level, but that was okay, because Roger wasn’t either.

“What are you on about?” Roger had asked, shaking his head and not really wanting an answer.

But he got one anyways.

“Oh, I guess you wouldn’t know about that, would you? Treating women with care?” you’d taunted. Brian snorted and covered his mouth as Roger had protested weakly, but from then on, Brian began to appreciate your quick comebacks and seemingly unending stream of jokes.

On the other hand, he really loves that you can sit back and listen to his rants when he needed to vent. Brian is an emotional type of man, but he’s not great at expressing his frustrations in the heat of the moment, which makes him even more frustrated with himself and leads to the bottling up of his feelings until his breaking point.

The night he’d realized he’d fancied you, he was at one of those breaking points. You were both hanging around the van, the other boys still fooling around at the pub after the gig. Brian had left early, annoyed by a spat with Roger earlier that hadn’t been resolved due to poor communication. You were already on the van, sleeping in the backseat up against the opposite window when he’d climbed in.

“Oh, sorry, love, did I wake you? Shit,” he’d muttered, sitting seat across the row of seats from you when you sat up halfway to rub your eyes, still drowsy and bleary with sleep. It was awkwardly cramped in the back, and his knees were almost up to his chest as he sat there, not sure how to position himself. You remained draped across the seat, your feet resting just next to his side

“No, no, it’s alright,” you’d murmured, stretching before looking over at him and finding that he looked a bit annoyed. “You alright?” you’d asked, turning on your side and patting the seat in front of you, offering a more comfortable spot for him.

He’d obliged, laying down in front of you and letting you be the big spoon as he sighed. “I’m just pissed off, Roger doesn’t understand what I’m trying to say half of the time...”

And from there, he’d ranted for at least an hour, barely pausing to hear your input before going on. You’d listened the entire time, nodding and playing with his hair as you did so. And when he’d run out of words to say, he finally noticed that you were braiding his hair, still attentively waiting for him to speak.

“I’m sorry if I bored you,” he’d almost cringed, biting his lip as he turned on his side so he was looking up at you. You laughed softly, readjusting so that you were comfortable laying on your side next to him, and you’d dropped the braid as you’d propped your head up on your hand.

“Well, you want to know what I think?” you’d asked, Brian nodding quickly and staring up at you as you started in with your advice for him.

The entire time you’d spoke, he’d been staring at different things, admiring you.

He admired the way your green eyes flitted around the van as you spoke, as if you were looking for the right words to say, then plucking them out of the air in that small, cramped van and putting them to use.

Also, he admired the glint of the moonlight on your piercings. Although he wasn’t a big piercing man himself, he loved them on you. In that moment, he’d realized that they only added to your beauty, which was already very present.

He’d taken a small strand of your hair in his hand as you spoke, admiring the way your skin contrasted so greatly with your hair, and he also appreciated that he wasn’t the only person having to deal with curly hair.

Once you were done speaking, he’d smiled toothily. “You know, for someone who’s always got something sarcastic on the tip of their tongue, you sure do give good advice.”

You’d smiled at that, and that smile was what had gotten him, hook, line, and sinker.

“Hey, no making out in the van unless it’s me!” Roger had yelled suddenly, throwing open the door as he crawled in, making his way on top of you two, and you’d both laughed loudly as a drunk Roger shoved his way between the two of you, making Brian nearly fall to the floor.

What a shit.

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mearnsblog · 4 years

Text

Remembering Reege

I'm taking a brief break from Disney blogging today to remember a man who was under employment by Disney subsidiary ABC for a long, long time. Ali and I had just finished watching "Hercules" as part of the Disney binge, and I picked up my phone to scroll through Twitter. That's when I saw that Regis Philbin had passed away at age 88.

I don't think I've ever really written any kind of remembrance for anyone other than for a family member or for a famous baseball figure (as I did in the Pinstripe Alley blogging days), but I'm motivated to write about Regis. Part of me isn't sure why, but the other part understands. Watching Regis on TV was a big part of growing up. I only knew a little about his daytime show with Kathie Lee Gifford & Kelly Ripa, but I was absolutely obsessed with "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire."

I'm not sure how exactly it came to be. I know that even then, I loved trivia and watched "Jeopardy!" a bunch, especially in the Alex Trebek mustache days. For whatever reason though, "Millionaire" suddenly became a near-daily part of my life in January 2000. I had missed when it first became a smash hit in limited runs during the previous August & November, when contestant John Carpenter turned himself into a viral video before the term "viral" even existed in that sense by calling his father just before becoming the show's first millionaire. ABC executives realized that they had an absurdly valuable property on their hands and began running "Millionaire" about as often as possible, and I was absolutely there for it.

Phone-a-friend blowing a $500,000 question for his pal? I was watching. Another millionaire earning his prize with probably a too-easy question about the astronomy? I was watching. A contestant nearly losing his mind after sitting the Hot Seat for so long during an agonizing $250,000 question about 2 Live Crew & Star Wars? I was watching.

If I wasn't watching it live, I was watching it on a VHS recording that I'd set up. Then, I'd be watching that recording again. And again. And again. Or I’d be playing one of the three computer games of “Millionaire” that I owned. Or reading one of the branded trivia books. My family was definitely sick of it after awhile, but I didn't care.

The trivia was great, the contestants were usually fun, and throughout it all, there was Regis, spellbinding me. He was like my TV grandpa, almost a Vin Scully type. He was always quick to rib his contestants and keep the mood light with friendly banter. He'd been in the business since the '50s, so while this was old hat for him, it was new for me. Regis could roll with whatever the show threw at him, even if he was already getting exhausted by fans peppering him with "Is that your final answer?" quotes.

One time, a contestant was out of lifelines at the $16,000 question and had to completely guess who sang the "Dawson's Creek" theme. Somehow, he got it right. The guy then proceeded to stun Regis and everyone else watching at home by rattling off 5 increasingly difficult questions in a row (aside from that Turkey nonsense) to make it all the way to the million dollar question. Regis mirrored the reaction of everyone watching. How could someone exist who didn't immediately know what limelight was, but had an encyclopedic knowledge of Russian imperial history? Regis's exhilaration was our exhilaration, and no one could've delivered it better. The fact that he genuinely seemed to care about people behind the scenes on his shows was just the cherry on top.

My "Millionaire" obsession didn't really last; by the fall, I -- like almost everyone else -- had eaten too much "Millionaire" candy and was getting exhausted by ABC putting it on almost literally every day at that point. I stopped watching the live shows, but again, for some reason, I kept watching the reruns that I'd taped. I was just weirdly drawn to them. I was drawn to Regis's funny candor, especially in the moments that I'd already seen. (This hasn't changed with so many of those shows now just conveniently available on YouTube.)

I wasn't watching when the show was cancelled in 2002, but I did watch when Regis came back to the show for limited runs in 2004 and 2009. Meredith Vieira and others were fine as daytime hosts when "Millionaire" resurfaced there, but it just wasn't the same as watching Regis. "Millionaire" changed game shows forever, and the Reege was a big reason for that.

It was also funny how Regis's deep roots in pop culture kept making him pop up in my other interests. The guy was a huge Yankees fan, and it was not uncommon to see him pop up on the screen at the old Yankee Stadium when I was watching games on TV. He made a memorable cameo breaking a newspaper machine on my favorite TV show for a long time, "How I Met Your Mother." (Yes, I'm still bitter about the ending.) His daughter, J.J., and son-in-law, Mike Schur (another baseball connection), also played pivotal roles in the development of more TV favorites: "The Office," "Saturday Night Live," "Parks & Recreation," "The Good Place," etc. Even as recently as the mid-2010s, Regis made guest appearances on sports shows, hilariously quoting Nas. Anytime I saw Regis in another platform, it was a mini-delight. The dude just knew how to make me laugh.

When it was announced that "Millionaire" was returning in a new celebrity-focused format in 2020 with Jimmy Kimmel, I knew that something probably wasn't right with Regis. Yes, he was old, but that hadn't stopped him from coming back for new primetime versions of "Millionaire" in the past. So it wasn't a complete shock when I saw today that he had passed on. But it was still sad. How many hours of my life have been spent mindlessly watching him entertain me? Too many to count.

So farewell and thank you for all the TV memories, Regis. As his pal Katie Nolan said, I hope there's a gin & tonic waiting for you at the pearly gates.

#archive #rip

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givemeakisspookie-blog · 7 years

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Miss Atomic Bomb. (Aaron Tveit Fanfiction)

Chapter One. That Thursday was one of those afternoons where everything seemed perfect, at least for a while. Marie Anne promised her brothers to spend more time with them those weeks. It was the last summer for the twins before going to college, so they wanted to have ‘the greatest summer of their lives’ or so they said. One of the things in Parker and Allan’s list was to spend as much time with their big sister as they could and she wasn’t going to complain. Her baby brothers convinced her to take them to the Yankees’ game, and as it looked like, they wouldn’t take no for an answer. The boys were pretty independent for their age, as smart and reckless. The original creators of the biggest headaches in the Woods’ family, and they were proud of it. Their big sister, in the other side, was like their queen. They admired her and respected her above all, and loved her as if she was their mother. That’s why they put all efforts to convince her to take them to the game. They were big Yankees’ fans, so a game plus the most amazing and beautiful sister of all times was a perfect plan before college aka campus aka seeing Marie Anne twice a year while eating a shit ton of big books and acting like grown people. They still hadn’t decided which university they wanted to go, but none of the boys wanted to go far from the city not even out of it. The last months weren’t the best ones for the family, so being apart from each other or from Marie Anne wasn’t going to be nice for anyone. So, trying to avoid the responsibility of choosing their new college, they made plans for all summer with Marie Anne. Yankees’ games, theater, movies, sleepovers in the living room, long summer night walks, beach -even if she didn’t like it that much-, Play Station tournaments, etc. That Thursday the twins’ schedule was Yankees vs. Red Sox. Big game. It started at 7 pm but they were all dressed -with their big foam fingers, the grey and blue caps, the shirts- and the three tickets sitting in the couch moving their legs, all excited at 5 pm. They were quite anxious boys since they were little and nothing changed in sixteen years. When Marie Anne came home from work all she could do was changing her clothes before being dragged out of the house in Brooklyn to their mom’s car. That day, their father was supposed to take the twins to the game, but he had to cancel again and at some point boys were happy since it worked as an excuse to go out with Marie Anne. With an hour left before the game, she took the car and drove to the Yankee Stadium, listening her overexcited brothers talking about hits and run, home-runs, pitches, yards and a lot of baseball talk, which she didn’t get as good as the boys. “Guys, I agreed to take you to the game because I love you both but PLEASE can you stop talking SO loud for like ten minutes? If it’s not much to ask, c'mon!” she yelled over the twins’ voices. Fifteen minutes passed and they were jumping into the car like crazy monkeys, yelling and singing the Yankees’ song out loud, while Marie Anne tried to drive without hitting anyone or anything, which in that moment, seemed like an impossible mission. They arrived half an hour before the game, and when Marie Anne got out of the car, the twins were already in the entrance yelling at her: “Marie Anne come on!! We’re late!”, “We won’t have time to buy food!”, “Can we get in now?! I wanna see the players warming up!”. She just smiled and tried to not follow her impulse of throwing them the car keys. They were lovely but equally bothering and annoying and sometimes she just wanted them to grow up from one day to another. And every time the idea of them like big boys crossed her mind, she shook her head and thought she’ll miss their silly teenagers’ things, just like now she missed their little chubby cheeks and baby faces from years ago. It seemed yesterday when she was almost ten and her parents said she was going to have two brothers. Sixteen years passed and she still remembered the very first time she saw their little rounded and pinky faces and all she wanted to do was carry them at the same time. Marie Anne was just a little girl back then, but the memories of those two were intact simply because Allan and Parker were what she loved the most from the second they came to the world. The girl just couldn’t help but smile at those memories. They finally dragged her into the Stadium and made her stop thinking about all that. Holding their nachos, sodas, and looking for a good place to seat to watch the game. Marie Anne followed them as fast as she could, but teenage energy was hard to keep track. They sat right in front of the 4th base, in a good place to catch a home-run ball -something her siblings did once when they were ten years old, and tried to repeat every time they could see a game-. There was so many people, some music playing while the warming up, and as they weren’t so far they could tell who was who, so the boys spended the twenty minutes left before the game pointing at their favorite players and arguing about who was the best one. The guy who was sitting beside Marie Anne was looking at them and laughing in front of such a spectacle. They were truly good showmen. “Parker, I gotta tell you, you’ve never been so right in something this big…” she said and Parker looked confused to his sister. “What? What are you talking about?"The brunette drew an evil smile in her face. "About being a journalist. You are such a smart boy, choosing a career where you can use that natural talent you have of talking like a crazy parrot and being paid for it… Amazing, well done!” the girl laughed and a second later Allan was doing the same. “That’s so rude, sis. When I get my first Pulitzer I won’t include you in my speech, just remember that!” Parker answered acting all offended for his sister’s comment. Marie Anne always joked about that kind of stuff, but it was partly true. When they were around eleven Allan said he wanted to write movies and when by fourteen, Parker said he wanted to be a journalist. It suit them perfectly because they were naturally good at it. The way they wrote at their age was something Marie Anne could never do even being ten years older, and every day both of them were just getting better. That was one of the reasons their mother always complained: the three Woods kids were always with their noses on a computer working in something and sometimes even working together to share opinions and thoughts about their work. Their mother was a good woman and cared about them three, but never understood their relationship. They were so close, like if they were born together. When she was a little girl, Marie Anne was stuck to her little brothers; she invented bedtime stories, taught them to draw, to read, to use the computer, -something her mother reproached her for years-, she played with them all day long and that’s why her baby brothers had her like their personal superhero. Like their mother, their father thought that with time they weren’t going to be as close as when they were just kids, but he was wrong. Everybody remembered that when they started to walk for the first time they both did it walking straight to her arms and no to their parents’. They still had a video of those two days and it was one of Marie Anne’s favorite memories from their childhood. Another of her favorite memories was the first time she took them to a Yankees game. She never saw them that happy. Their eyes shined and they couldn’t take off the smiles on their faces. Their father infected them with the Yankees and baseball virus when they were little boys; watching all the games, giving them baseball bates and leather baseball gloves for Christmas, and teaching them how to play -even when Marie Anne did almost all the work-. They were truly fanatics. And they were in a big stadium, full of fanatics like them, excited like them, sharing their love and passion for the game. For the boys it was one of the biggest sensations ever. That was the reason the girl was there. If it was up to her, she’ll be at home finishing work stuff that needed to be ready as soon as possible, but there was no way she could break their hearts saying no to them, especially when everything was so messy back at home. So Marie Anne preferred to go with them and stay working late but happy to see them smiling like they were doing in that moment. At least they weren’t thinking in anything else for a while. Marie Anne’s phone ringed. They didn’t realize. She looked at the phone to see who was calling her: her dad. She decided to get away to talk because she knew how were her brothers going to react, and didn’t want to be a killjoy. He wanted to say again how sorry he was for not being able to take the guys to the game, how he was going to try harder next time. Also he wanted to know how they were doing and if they needed something. He said sorry like fifteen times and at that point she really didn’t care about it. Since their parents got divorced everything became a big mess for them, so the Woods kids decided to stuck even more together. She just let him talk and came back with the twins. When she arrived her brothers were talking to the guy who was sitting beside her and other two whom she supposed were his friends. The one besides her was a blue-eyed man with dark blonde hair. He was laughing with her brothers, and apparently they were talking about baseball, based in the words and few names she could recognize when she sat down again. Marie Anne totally imagined that her brothers started the conversation with the three guys because they always did the same. They talked for good ten minutes until the game started, then both Allan and Parker forgot they all existed. They always did the same and stayed like that for ten minutes or so, until they remember Marie Anne was there. Baseball game, same routine. That’s when she took her time to check her phone, because later they would almost yell at her for not watching the game. She could hear her mom complaining about always checking her phone and how she was worse than her brother. Probably that time her mom was right, because she barely heard the guy on her right talking to her. “It’s not their first game, right?” he asked, smiling at the crazy pair who was on their own world. “What?” she replied all distracted. When she connected back to the world, looked at the place where the voice that was talking to her came from. All she could see was two clear blue eyes putting her into their sight and almost making her forget there was a baseball game going on in front of them. “I was just asking if this is not their first game. Sorry I interrupted you.” he sweetly smiled like an apology for interrupt her. Marie Anne couldn’t do anything but smiling back at him. “No, no it’s fine. I was just checking work stuff and… Nothing important.” she started, placing her phone back on the pocket of her jeans. “And no, it’s not their first game even when it looks different. Their first time here was when they were five years old. Their birthday present. Mom hated every second of it.” she laughed quietly while looking at the court, trying to act normal -something that she thought wasn’t going very well-. He looked at her funny and turned just enough to look at her. “You are hating it too?” he had to ask because she wasn’t being very clear. “No, I like baseball. Not as much as those two, but I like it. But you know, the games are crazy long, so I don’t think I’ll lose something if I don’t watch it for five minutes.” she explained and turned a little her face to see his reaction with side-eye and a smirk. “You never know. That’s the magic on this game. You don’t know if the next ball is a homerun. Is unexpected.” he smiled to her and she automatically smiled him in return. “You are right. You never know if a ball will hit you in the head. Although it wouldn’t be nice, but I guess it could happen.” the girl joked, crossing her legs and taking her chance to get a drink of one of the sodas her brothers left behind. “Well, that would be a headache for sure!” and after saying that he turned to look at the game for some seconds because something happened, but she kept looking at him. Suddenly, all the crowd rise up and yelled. It seemed the Yankees were making a point. She could tell for the things she heard: “Go, go, go!”, “That’s how you hit the ball, man!”, “Show them who the Yankees are!!” Whatever it was, she really didn’t care a lot and kept laughing softly for the silly comment he made. When he sat down again, looked at her, laughing covering her mouth with her hand. “What are you laughing at?”. He couldn’t hold it and let a little giggle go out of his mouth. “Nothing… What you said was just funny. But I was also thinking that a headache is the last thing I need in my life right now” Marie Anne explained trying to stop herself from keep laughing. “You don’t seem very serious saying that while laughing”, he couldn’t stop either, and every time he tried to, he just looked at her and laughed even louder. “Well, I’m sorry but it’s your fault!” she giggled, now both of them getting back to normal. “What about the headaches? Are those because of these two?” She looked at them for a second, and stayed silent remembering all those times they were the reason why she never fell down. “No, they are good kids. Actually, almost everything but them gives me headaches lately.” He looked at her for a second and kept his eyes in the game. "That includes me…?” “No, don’t worry. There’s no way you could do such a thing.” Marie Anne smiled and for a second she regretted her honesty attack. She shouldn’t say such a thing to a guy she just met. “Good. I mean, otherwise I would really have to pay attention and watch the game.” he joked and turned his face and stared at her. He had a little smile in his face, and when she turned her face to look at him, he just pretended nothing happened and kept his head in the game. “Hey, that’s up to you. You spent money on the ticket for this game so you decide…” she lifted her shoulder in a half shrug like it was no big deal. Besides, that was a good way to hide that she knew he was looking at her. “You spent money on this too…” he responded as he took a sip of his drink and never took his eyes off the 4rd base, where a Sox’s player was scoring another point, leaving the distance between them and the Yankees at one point, what was a true danger. “No, it was my dad who bought them so I’m not feeling guilty.” and she smiled with a sassy grin while eating a nacho, which made the boy smile for seeing her acting like that in such a silly situation. “Then you don’t really HAVE to watch the game…” he looked at her, expecting what was going to be her next joke or funny witticism that was going to make him laugh. “Nope” she smiled to him, and seemed to see in his face something like a little smirk. They stayed in silence while the game was going on. And she was feeling really comfortable and kind of happy to be there. Marie Anne also felt a little silly when her brothers turned around and found her smiling to herself as she was watching the game and she could felt her cheeks turning a little red, so she excused herself and went to the bathroom, where she could hide from all the eyes at least for some minutes. He was a guy who she just met; she didn’t even know his name so it was stupid to act like a girl having a crush. The game was going to end and they were going to go in different ways. After she cooled up her face, she came back. When she arrived, the blond guy turned around and smiled to her. “We won! You lost it” “It’s been an hour, this games are long as one of Allan’s speeches about sports and their importance in a young person lifestyle so I know you are joking…” and right after that, her brothers started to fill her head with a very different kind of baseball terms, and curses and beautiful words about the game and their new friend. She sat down and listened to all the men she had around. From time to time, the guy looked at her and smiled and told her something about the game, while he was trying to talk with her brothers. For the way he smiled at her Marie Anne didn’t wanted to think he was flirting. He was handsome, but they were in the Yankees stadium and her brothers were there. Then she realized that she’d been flirting with him too, simply because she couldn’t help it. Any reasonable woman would do it if she was in front of him, especially when he had that cute smirk on his face. Besides, those blue eyes were too beautiful not to look at them. Anyways, she did all she could to keep her eyes on the game and not on him, just when it was completely necessary. What bothered her the most was ignoring his name. She tried to hear it, putting out her female talents making one or two comments in the men talk that was happening right beside her, but she didn’t hear anything but: man, dude, pal, buddy, mate, and a couple of compliments to her. Nothing else… Not a name; nor a nickname. Nothing, and that was really pissing her off. She wasn’t going to look for him on Facebook or something like that with his name but… She’d like to know it. Just for curiosity. Marie Anne even thought about asking his brothers when he went to the bathroom. It was going to end up in the messy twins making jokes and opening their big mouths, so she let that idea behind for the rest of the game. She knew she would regret her decision when she realized it was close to end. And she did. The twins were absolutely happy because the Yankees won and when it was over, all they wanted to do was getting pizzas from their favorite place as Marie Anne. When Parker and Allan grabbed their jackets and said their goodbyes to the three guys Marie Anne knew her chances were over, so she got her stuff too and waved goodbye. She was about to leave when the blue eyed guy offered her a handshake. Marie Anne couldn’t resist it and she grabbed his hand, though she wasn’t expecting to receive a small piece of paper and a smile telling her to keep the secret between them. She smiled back, and couldn’t help to bite a little her lower lip. They left, and she carefully kept the paper in her jeans’ pocket. Her face turned red and her smile was already stuck on her face -even if she tried hard to avoid it-, and fortunately her brothers didn’t notice when they left the stadium and got into the car, waiting anxious to get the pizza she promised. She drove until their favorite pizza place, and they got out running like the excited teenagers they actually were. “Don’t run! Pick a table and please, be careful or you’ll hit someone!” Marie Anne tried to warn them, but her brothers were already into the place when she ended the sentence. She took advantage of that second alone, so she turned around, took the paper out of the pocket and as she opened it she couldn’t help it. Her smile just grew bigger. Next Chapter. →

#aaron tveit #aaron tveit imagine #aaron tveit fanfiction #aaron tveit fanfic

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welllpthisishappening · 7 years

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It’s a Funny Old Game (2/2)

Killian's not sure why he agreed to this. Well, no, that's not true. He does. Because Henry asked. And, well, maybe they're some kind of family now.

Emma's not sure why she hasn't said anything. Well, no, that's not true. She does. Because she's not supposed to. And, well, things were pretty good already.

Or: A quasi Out of the Frying Pan sequel with soccer.

AN: There’s an actual soccer game in this part of the soccer fic I was never planning on actually writing. Soccer and fluff and feelz. As always, I cannot say enough about @distant-rose & @laurnorder who rationalized all of these feelz and we’re like...uh, yeah, obviously you should write the thing. They’re the best.

Also on Ao3 if you’re looking there.

“This is, easily, the coolest thing we’ve ever done.” “You’re not actually doing anything,” Emma pointed out, glancing at David who, appeared, to be ignoring her completely.

Mary Margaret shook her head, hitching her arm under Leo’s legs and babbling something that might have been words before turning back towards Emma. “Don’t pop this bubble for him,” she said. “He thinks he’s going to get out on the field. He’s going to collect dirt or something.”

“What?” “Yeah, yeah, Mom, we’re going to get dirt,” Henry yelled, bobbing on his toes. He didn’t trip, but he did stumble over the words a bit, voice picking up and excitement obvious in every letter and Emma had been right – he made a jersey.

Or he’d done some jersey-type surgery on one of the several dozen jerseys he owned – getting rid of the name patch on the back and writing out Jones and that, certainly, didn’t do several different things to Emma’s entire body and her ability to not cry in public places.

David probably would have laughed at her.

Well, no, he was too busy plotting how to sneak onto the field at Yankee Stadium and, apparently, steal dirt.

Will would have laughed at her.

Will helped Henry and Roland make a sign at the bar the night before.

“I don’t understand this dirt thing at all,” Belle muttered, doing her best to avoid Roland’s feet when she fell in step next to Will. He was hanging over Will’s shoulder, face flushed from the blood that had rushed to the top of his head and Regina didn’t even look surprised by any of this.

Emma wasn’t really either – a year after Killian had moved downtown and they’d all kind of mixed and mingled and it was some kind of family in a big, emotional way that was underlined and bolded and, maybe, had fireworks going off behind it.

At least that’s how Emma kept thinking about it. And nearly proclaiming in the middle of the kitchen at the Jolly with flour smeared across her jeans.

God, what an idiot. That wasn’t...not yet, at least. Not technically.

So Killian helped Henry with his homework and made dinner when he wasn’t running service at the Jolly and they liked to spend Sundays on the couch with video game controllers in hand and he’d almost gotten good at killing zombies.

They were comfortable and domestic and Emma was so goddamn lucky it, sometimes, made her head spin if she thought about it for too long.

She usually didn’t have time to think about it for too long – far too busy with a filming schedule that always seemed to require another appearance in studio and another cookbook and she really needed to start thinking about more recipes, but she’d been focused on a few other things for the last two weeks.

Ariel would call it distracted, you’re distracted and had, several times, but Emma didn’t have time for that either and she’d nearly forgotten the orange slices before.

“Uncle David wants to steal dirt from Yankee Stadium,” Henry explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Because Derek Jeter touched it.” “That doesn’t even make any sense,” Emma muttered. Henry actually turned to gape at her, eyes wide with disbelief and sports-based offense and she couldn’t actually wave her hands, laden down with orange slices and stress-fueled bake goods because she hadn’t thought of a single recipe yet.

“Yes it does,” David argued. “This is the house that Jeter built, after all.” “Oh my God.” Mary Margaret mumbled something else against Leo’s head that sounded suspiciously like your father is insane and David rolled his eyes. “I thought this was the house that Ruth built,” Robin said reasonably and they had to be close to their seats.

Ruby and Regina had joined forces a few days before – each personally offended that the massive and extended family of Killian Jones wasn’t immediately offered half a dozen rows of seats for a charity soccer game and the combined weight of their fury probably caused several Yankee Stadium ticket agents to cry.

“No, didn’t you hear?” Will asked, making a face when Roland moved on his shoulder. “This is the house that Jones built. We’ve been guaranteed, at least, forty-seven goals.” “See, you’re acting like this doesn’t matter to you,” Emma said. “But you were the one trying to ask Killian about strategy three nights ago.” “How do you know that?” “I have ears? And eyes?” Will made a face, pressing his head against Roland’s shoulder when the kid started laughing and Regina tried to tug his own makeshift Jones jersey down when it rode up his back. “How’d the last run through go yesterday afternoon? Cap didn’t want to talk about it when he got in for service.” “And you don’t think that was some kind of sign?”

Will opened his mouth to say something else, but Robin mumbled shut up, Scarlet and that was the end of that conversation.

Emma did her best to smile – certain it was going to be fine and good and it was a charity game for God’s sake. No one expected them actually play well.

But Killian was Killian and, by extension, Emma was Emma and Henry had brought, like, a dozen friends because there was so much goddamn room in their several designated aisles and it felt like some kind of terrifying ocean of teenage-expectations.

“He just wants to impress you and Henry,” Robin muttered, knocking his shoulder familiarly against Emma’s once they made their way into the seats and they were only a few feet behind the benches. “Mostly Henry, I think.”

There was a waiter. They had their own in-aisle waiter. Ruby had definitely made someone cry.

“Yeah, I know,” Emma said. “He could do that by waking up in the morning, though.” “That was actually pretty romantic.” “It felt weird when I was saying it.” Robin laughed softly, tapping his fingers on the armrest next to him and the Stadium looked completely different. Not that Emma had ever actually been to a baseball game, but she imagined there wasn’t usually a whole other field on top of the field when the Yankees played.

“Does it look especially soccer?” she asked and she saw Robin smile out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m not sure if I know what that question means, but the proper term is football pitch and, yes, it does look like a proper match.” “That was almost oppressively British.”

“Old habits. You know, Ruby and Gina forced him to film a promo thing yesterday. It was part for the network and part the team and it’s up on both sites. That might have been why he was attacking the vegetables during service last night.”

“Oh,” Emma mumbled, a wholly underwhelming response and maybe her eyes and ears weren’t working nearly as well as she thought they had been.

“Ruby didn’t show you?” Emma shook her head, something churning in the pit of her stomach that felt like a mix of nerves and anxiety and the hope that Killian didn’t actually break any bones because they’d already done the whole soccer injury thing with Henry six months ago and she wasn’t sure if she could go through that again.

“Should she have?” Emma asked and Robin made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat.

Henry and Roland were already cheering – at the grounds crew – and that sign wasn’t going to make it to kickoff, already slightly wrinkled by wind and they probably should have made two so there was no issue over sharing.

“Depends on your response, I guess,” Robin replied, leaning to his side to tug his phone out of his pocket. “For the record, A sent the link to me last night with just, like, twenty-seven exclamation points and the promise that it would mean something to you.” Emma narrowed her eyes. “And she didn’t think it would make sense to just, you know, send it to me?” “You know, A. She lives for this back-room drama and I’m fairly positive she was terrified of what Killian would do if he found out she was the reason you got your hands on that video.” “And you’re cool with that kind of lingering threat?” “Eh,” Robin shrugged. “My kid is obsessed with him. He was the best man at my wedding. I’m fairly confident he won’t actually try to push me in front of the downtown-6 later.” “We drove up here. Your wife has questionably strong connections with town-car companies.”

Robin beamed. “Exactly. Here,” he added, pushing the phone into Emma’s palm and the video had already started playing.

Emma tugged her hair over her shoulder, trying to shake away that one strand that seemed determined to stay in her eyes and he must have just finished practicing because his hair wasn’t quite set and there was a sheen to his face that might have actually been the most attractive thing she’d ever seen in her entire life.

God.

She could feel Robin’s stare on the side of her head – watching and waiting for some kind of visible reaction and the whole lot of them had probably seen this stupid video. Mary Margaret kept shifting in her seat.

She’d totally seen that stupid video.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s going to be a lot of fun,” Killian said, answering a question from an off-camera reporter. “Who do I think is going to be the best on the field? Well, if you want to get technical, the correct term is pitch.” He flashed a smile at the camera, eyebrows doing something that should be illegal in every country in the entire world. “But, uh, honestly,” he continued, tugging on that piece of hair that curled just behind his ear. “Me? Is that the wrong answer?” The invisible reporter laughed – or that might have just been Emma and she barely even noticed when the waiter started passing out drinks and food and there was alcohol in her other hand before she realized someone had actually ordered anything.

It was probably Ruby.

She had a tendency to just...take over.

“Em,” she shouted, pushing up slightly in her chair. “Em! What if you did a section on better stadium food? Like, you know, hot dogs and hamburgers and, oh man, steal Killian’s hamburger recipe. We’ll sell a million copies.” “I don’t think she’s listening to you,” David muttered, taking an exaggerated bite of what actually appeared to be a corndog.

Emma glanced up, grimacing at the food in her brother’s hand. “Are you guys talking?” she asked. “And what the hell is that?” “Delicious.” “I don’t think that’s a type of food, technically,” Mary Margaret pointed out. She twisted in her chair, careful to keep Leo Henry as still as possible and fished through the bag at her feet, tugging out a plastic container of what Emma immediately knew was squash.

And Cheerios.

“M’s, are you mixing vegetables and cereal?” Emma asked, gaze flitting between Robin’s phone and her sister-in-law and having an actual, coherent conversation was proving rather difficult when Killian kept smiling at the camera.

“He’s got very specific tastes,” she explained. “He likes gourd-type vegetables and...one specific type of vaguely disgusting cereal.” “It really is horrible if they’re not doused in sugar isn't they?” Mary Margaret shrugged. “At least it’s not all squash all the time. It was Killian’s idea, actually.” “Wait, what?” “Yeah, when was that David? A week ago?” David mumbled, a mouth full of corndog and a drink in his hand and Emma tried not to actually do damage to her eyes when she rolled them. “Anyway,” Mary Margaret said. “Whenever we were at the Jolly last. He said something about grains and it might actually go pretty well with the squash and, you know, I tried it the other day and it’s not really that bad.” Emma blinked, the noise from the video dulling in her ears and it kind of felt like she’d sunk through the very padded, very fancy chairs they’d been allotted. “You ate your own kid’s food?”

“Is that weird? What if it tasted awful?” “He’s a baby. I don’t think he’ll remember.” Mary Margaret didn’t say anything and Leo Henry made a decidedly one-year-old noise, grabbing a handful of Cheerios and stuffing them in his face with the same grace and tact his father had in the next seat over.

Emma shook her head, but that was mostly so she knew it was still connected to her body and she hadn’t just floated into the atmosphere, buoyed by feelings and emotions and she really couldn’t cope with the convergence of all of this at once.

Yeah, well, like I said, it’s a good cause and I’ve got a kid...I mean, I’ve got...it’s a good cause.

Robin chuckled when Emma’s eyes widened, threatening to fall out of her face and possibly onto the field and that would probably scar Henry for life or something.

“Wait,” she stammered, not sure who she was talking to, but Ruby was still half-standing in her chair and she had that look on her face. “Did he…” “Yup,” Will shouted a few seats away, popping his mouth on the word and Emma could barely hear it over the sound of her pulse beating in her ears.

“See,” Robin mumbled. “This is why he didn’t want really want you to see the video. Scroll back for two seconds and you can actually see the tips of his ears go red.” Emma let out a shaky laugh, body falling forward with the force of her exhale or sigh or, maybe, just a complete swoon , but she did as instructed and Robin wasn’t lying. The words were out of Killian’s mouth and she could tell the exact moment he realized what he’d said.

He looked like he froze for half a second, blinking just a bit quicker and his tongue pressed against the corner of his mouth. The off-camera reporter asked another question and Killian nearly jumped to attention, spine straightening and shoulders shifting and Emma wondered if it’d be really weird if she just leapt onto the field – the pitch, whatever – and started making out with her boyfriend.

“Yeah, yeah,” Killian continued on the video. “You know, it’s easy to kind of get sidetracked with stuff we think is important, but this kind of throws everything all back into pretty stark focus. These kids are going through stuff we could never really understand and if I can run around for a couple hours, at Yankee Stadium no less, than, yeah sign me up. Plus, I’ve been promised orange slices later.” Emma was fairly certain she was still cognizant and conscious, but Robin and Ruby seemed to be having some kind of silent conversation over her head and Mary Margaret was mumbling something against Leo Henry’s head that sounded suspiciously like Aunt Emma is making weird faces, that’s right.

Henry and Roland were still yelling.

It made more sense now – the players were coming out for warmups.

Oh, well, shit.

He hadn’t actually put his uniform on at home – There are rules, Swan, you have to get dressed in the locker room or it’s bad luck – and, in some theoretic vision, Emma knew he’d have to wear a uniform and even what the uniform looked like , but even her most detailed expectations failed to match up with what had actually just arrived along the first base line of Yankee Stadium.

“You alright there, Em?” Ruby asked and even Mary Margaret laughed.

Emma shook her head – not sure if she was answering or just trying to ignore her very loud, vaguely hysterical friends – but she barely had time to even consider a sarcastic response before Killian was jogging their direction and damn , that was cheating.

“Hey,” he said, coming up just short of the wall and his smile probably could have powered the entire borough when he saw Roland and Henry in front of him.

Roland tried to climb over the concrete and the rolled up tarp towards Killian, but Henry grabbed him around the waist immediately – and then nearly let him fall when he noticed the number on Killian’s back.

“You ok, kid?” Emma asked, but Henry didn’t answer her. He stared at Killian, matching flushes on each of their faces, and Emma was never going to hear anything except her over-excited heartbeat.

“Good number,” Henry muttered and Killian managed to smile even wider.

“Yeah, I figured it’d be good luck or something. I mean Rol expects me to score, what was it, mate? Forty-seven goals?” “Forty-eight,” Roland shouted.

Killian hummed in agreement, eyes flashing towards Emma. She was breathing through her mouth. And she didn’t remember when she stood up. “Hi, Swan,” he grinned, all easy confidence and certainty and blue eyes that seemed to actually match the blue in his goddamn uniform.

This was some kind of joke.

It had to be.

She was absolutely dreaming all of this.

“Hi,” Emma said, but it came out a bit breathless and Ruby was going to injure her spleen with the force of her cackle. “Oh my God, Ruby, shut up.” “No, no, I get it,” Ruby laughed.

Emma couldn’t actually press her hands to her cheeks – certain they’d probably be scalding with the force of her embarrassment – holding, as she was, four Tupperware containers of baked goods and goddamn orange slices.

Killian waved his hand towards Ruby and she didn’t actually stop laughing, but she sat back down and started making faces at Leo Henry. “You look a little distracted, love,” Killian muttered, moving in front of her and resting his arms on the wall.

“Shouldn’t you be warming up?” Emma asked. “Stretching or...kicking something?” “Are you interested in watching me stretch?” “Oh my God, you’re worse than Ruby is.” “I’m going to try not to take offense to that, Swan. And, strictly speaking, yeah, I probably should be, but I don’t think I can actually get penalized for anything.” “Yellow card.” “That was good.” “I do occasionally listen.” Killian eyes brightened or just got bluer or maybe Emma had really lost her mind. She should eat some orange slices. Up her metabolism. Or something. That didn’t even make any sense.

“True,” Killian said, resting his chin on his palm. “And sometimes you are noticeably distracted, Swan.” “And sometimes you stumble over interviews in promo videos.” She was an idiot.

Robin might have actually sighed next to her and Will mumbled something under his breath that sounded like jeez, Emma, now he’s going to be thinking that all game and Killian might have actually scraped his elbow trying to move his hands off the concrete.

“Huh,” he muttered, running his hand through his hair and rocking back on his heels. “Locksley or Scarlet?” “I’m pleading the fifth. That’s how that works, right, David?”

“Absolutely,” David promised, clearly not listening to a single word Emma had asked, far too busy detailing the dirt plan with Henry again.

Emma sighed. “They want to steal dirt,” she explained and one side of Killian’s mouth twitched. “Something about Derek Jeter and not Derek Jeter and who’s that guy Henry’s obsessed with?” “Aaron Judge,” Henry and Killian answered immediately.

“Right, right,” Emma muttered, taking a deep breath and piling her small Tupperware collection in front of her. She leaned forward, tugging on the front of Killian’s jersey – he was wearing a jersey, God – and she was fairly positive his whole body seemed to sag forward, fingers wrapped around her wrist.

This was the last place they should be having this conversation.

Or the last place they should be having this conversation if Emma could actually formulate a coherent sentence, but that jersey was distracting and he was distracting and she couldn’t help but wonder why nothing had happened in the last two weeks.

She was kind of frustrated it hadn't happened in the last two weeks.

Although, she should probably buy Ariel some kind of gift. For not telling or talking and everyone knew everything about everyone in that restaurant and it was some kind of miracle that someone hadn’t just told Emma what the plan was.

She’d just...stumbled into it? Well, no, that wasn’t really true either. She’d gotten back from filming two weeks ago and Henry had clearly already been home – backpack dropped just inside the door and one shoe left in the middle of the hallway and she’d just meant to move the goddamn fucking sneaker.

She hadn’t really meant to ruin everything.

Or potentially ruin everything if they ever acknowledged what everything was.

Her head hurt.

And Emma hadn’t even opened the box.

She’d been too busy trying not to pass out in her kid’s room when she was fairly certain said kid was three blocks uptown at her boyfriend’s restaurant.

But now boyfriend seemed a bit juvenile and they’d been living together for a year and Killian had said I’ve got a kid on an actual, official interview.

That went on the network site. And probably got e-mail blasted to the kinds of people who got e-mail blasts from the network.

God, why hadn’t he actually asked yet?

“Swan,” Killian said, squeezing his fingers and she nearly dislocated her entire vertebrae snapping her head back up. “You went all glossy there, love. Are you ok? Do you need an orange slice?” “Maybe,” Emma admitted. She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until it suddenly felt like her lungs were going to explode. “You’re totally right, this is totally distracting.” Killian twisted his eyebrows – any sense of pre-game, pre-match , nerves almost visibly falling away as soon as Emma mumbled out the words and the compliment and Henry was staring at them like he was expecting something to happen.

She was an idiot.

The box was sitting behind his soccer cleats. It might still be there.

Henry totally knew.

“They weren’t actually supposed to show you,” Killian mumbled, leaning forward again and for half a second Emma thought he was going to kiss her. But there were cameras everywhere and a small army of soccer-playing teenagers and he really should go stretch.

Will would never let him hear the end of it if he strained something.

“Yeah, I believe that was mentioned,” Emma said. She grimaced slightly when her elbow bumped against the wall, but she moved her fingers anyway, tracing over the back of Killian’s neck and down his arm and he actually looked like he shivered. “It was a good video, though. Even with the stammering.” “That so?” “Why would I lie about that?” “I honestly have no idea. I hadn’t really gotten that far in the stages of worrying.”

“What exactly are the stages of worrying?” Killian clicked his tongue, teeth tugging on his lower lip when Emma’s nails scratched through the bottom of his hair. A camera shutter went off somewhere. “Realization,” he started. “A quick and sudden determination to fix it as quickly as possible. Avoiding the issue completely. Threatening your friends with metaphorical pink slips if they even so much as breathed a word of said worry to you and, uh, stress baking.” “That’s it?” Emma asked. “And you were all the way to just before stress baking?” “I had practice. And a dinner service. I didn’t really have time to get to stress baking.” “Naturally.” Killian laughed under his breath, leaning his head back against Emma’s fingers and someone called for him from the field. Pitch. “I think they actually expect me to play soccer,” he muttered, ignoring Roland’s not-so-quiet screech when he used the wrong word. “Football, football, football,” Killian corrected quickly. “Deep breaths, mate.”

“You’ve got to go score, Uncle Killian,” Roland yelled and it sounded like more of a demand than whoever was actually coaching that team.

“He should probably be in charge,” Emma muttered, working another smile out of Killian and that felt like scoring eighty-seven goals and forty-six penalty kicks and scoring in soccer was, apparently, very limited.

Football.

God.

“Between him and Henry I have been taught every way Wayne Rooney and David Villa has ever scored, so it’s almost like I’ve been double-coached,” he said. “I’m fairly positive my MVP trophy has already been personalized.”

“Awfully confident all of a sudden.” “Yeah, well, you brought orange slices.” “And baked,” Emma added. “Don’t forget the baking.” “Does it count if I cleaned up the frosting disaster at the end?” Emma shook her head deftly and both Ruby and Mary Margaret were going to choke or pass out and David should probably hold Leo Henry if that happened.

“No,” she said, something in the pit of her stomach fluttering like she was fifteen and flirting with the captain of the football team. Actual football. Not whatever it was they were doing. “And it wasn’t really a disaster,” Emma continued. “More like a debacle. At worst. It just, you know, kind of flew everywhere when the bowl fell. The cleanup doesn’t award you any points or goals or whatever.” “Rough crowd.” “Compliment the baked goods later and then we’ll talk.” Someone yelled Jones from the other side of the field and Emma was fairly positive she’d heard that voice on her TV screen and there were more photographers there than she expected. They should probably stop flirting on the sidelines.

She couldn't seem to stop flirting on the sidelines.

“It seems I have a game to play,” Killian muttered, rolling his eyes as soon as the exasperated sound came a few seats away. “Match. I know. I know it’s a match.”

“Go play, Lieutenant,” Emma said, but her hand had found its way to the front of his jersey again and he couldn’t actually walk away when she was holding onto him like there was a magnet there.

His eyes flashed at the rank and Emma tried to smile like she was a teenager and there there weren’t actual teenagers a few feet away or a photographer trying to get them all to pose.

“For The Daily News, ” he explained and Emma’s head snapped towards Ruby out of instinct.

“Put it in the cookbook with your stadium series section,” she shrugged.

Killian furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, what?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Emma said quickly, but Killian didn’t look impressed. “Also, Ruby, you’re an awful producer.” Ruby sounded like she growled and the photographer looked a bit intimidated, shifting back and forth on his feet until Regina seized control of the situation and told anyone who wasn’t part of the group that they had to get out of frame since they didn't’ have parental permission to put their picture in New York City tabloids.

“Thanks,” the photographer said a few moments later, still glancing warily at Ruby who looked like she was considering all the ways to get copies of his photo without actually paying him.

Killian turned back towards Emma – and she was going to say something, really, she was. It was going to be motivational or inspirational or something straight out of an 80s movie, but she didn’t get a chance.

He kissed her.

In front of the cameras and the teenagers and what felt like the entire goddamn world.

Emma leaned forward, arms moving around his neck and the wall pushed painfully into her stomach, but she barely even noticed when Killian did that thing where he seemed to try and breathe her in.

Or maybe just pushed his hand into her hair.

“Distracting,” Emma mumbled, resting her forehead against his and she couldn’t actually see his mouth, but she knew he was smiling.

“For luck,” Killian said.

He didn’t need it.

And Emma wasn’t really surprised – he’d never really needed it, no matter what he thought, and he looked so goddamn good in that stupid uniform, she’d probably steal it. Or something. She had no idea if he had to give it back.

He scored.

Twenty-two minutes left on the clock – or, as both Henry and Roland and a small fleet of teenagers were quick to point out the 68th minute – the ball landing on his feet and in the back of the net in a blink. Emma wasn’t sure what kind of noise she actually made, a scream or shout or whatever kind of noise a person would make when they found a ring box behind her kid’s soccer cleats two weeks ago and then watched a video with her boyfriend mumbling over future-type qualifiers.

And then, she was fairly certain, she nearly passed out.

She almost didn’t hear it. She was too busy screaming and jumping and she should have been better prepared for Killian in a soccer uniform.

But she wasn’t and Emma certainly wasn’t prepared for the kid on Henry’s other side – a defender on the travel team he’d played for that summer named Ben or Bill or something.

“Henry, Henry! Did your dad just score?” “Yeah, he did,” Henry shouted back, jumping in tandem with Roland and the sign was a bent-up mess by the 68th minute of play. “Did you see that shot? He totally wrecked that defender!”

Emma stumbled slightly, an impressive feat considering she hadn’t actually taken a step, and she nearly took out the orange slices before Robin dropped a knowing hand on her shoulder to steady her.

“Deep breaths,” he muttered. “Just focus on that piece of gum stuck to the wall.” “That’s disgusting,” Emma grumbled.

Robin laughed softly, but he didn’t move his hand and Emma knew Will was staring at her too. “You should probably tell him,” Robin added. “You know at some point. Not now, obviously.” “I think he’s a little busy now.” “That’s what I’m saying, but, you know, eventually. And then live happily ever after or something.” Emma nodded slowly, lips moving in response, but she wasn’t sure she actually said anything.

They won the game.

It’s a match, Mom, we’ve been over this.

They won the game.

Ruby stared at a security guard until he opened up a gate to the field and Regina glared at every groundskeeper who even dared to look their direction, marching them towards the media scrum just outside the box.

That was good, Mom! You’re totally a respectable fan now.

Emma let that slide, trying to shift the Tupperware containers on her hip and Killian was already surrounded by reporters and more photographers, answering questions with his hand stuffed in his hair and his left arm twisted behind his back.

“You good?” Mary Margaret asked, appearing at Emma’s side and holding her hands out expectantly. Emma blinked in confusion, lips parting slightly and Mary Margaret didn’t miss a beat, just grabbed two of the containers without a word. “That’s not an answer,” she pointed out.

“I’m not sure I understand the question,” Emma admitted.

“That kid. And the yelling. And the video.” Emma considered her answer for a moment, but it was almost blatantly obvious and maybe she should just ask him.

No, that’s not how this worked.

She was fairly positive that’s not how it worked. She’d never...done any of this before.

“Yeah,” Emma said, snapping the word out when she realized she hadn’t actually answered Mary Margaret. “I am. Is that weird?” “Emma, you just asked me if it was weird that you were happy.” “That’s probably weird, right?” “Absolutely.”

“I really should have been better prepared for how good he looks in that uniform too,” Emma said and Mary Margaret’s laugh probably alerted several birds and fairies of an impending happily ever after.

Mary Margaret nodded in agreement. “It’s not a bad look.” Emma smiled, shaking her hair over her shoulders and the rest of the team had, finally, noticed the baked goods and orange slices, descending on her and Mary Margaret quickly, a mess of hands and elbows, all determined to get sustenance after the match.

Emma did her best to hold onto the containers in her hands, could hear Killian trying to work his way out of the interview, but there were more questions and the entire stadium seemed to freeze when someone asked him about how your wife made food for the team.

“That’s just bad prep,” Mary Margaret mumbled and the metaphorical birds paused mid-flight.

David looked like he was trying to figure out a way to actually arrest the journalist, but Emma shook her head again, twisting back towards a suddenly paler-than-normal Killian.

She shrugged.

And that wasn’t really the most romantic response, but no one had really asked the question.

There weren’t any questions in the Jolly later that night either – the not-so-secret celebratory dinner Ariel had planned with food that would have been better if Killian was cooking it, a fact he was quick to point out as soon as the new sous chef was back in the kitchen.

They ate it anyway and Killian helped Will mix drinks, grinning at Emma every time his eyes met hers. It was almost enough to distract all over again.

The alcohol helped.

They took more pictures – Killian’s participation trophy featuring prominently in all of them and Ruby tried to bring up the cookbook no less than eight different times.

Emma drank some more and Killian snuck into his own kitchen to make her onion rings, wrapping one arm around her waist to drop the plate in front of her at the bar and leave kisses on her neck.

Roland fell asleep draped over Killian eventually, body twisted in some sort of improbable way and he whined when Robin tried to pry his hands away from the shirt he had gripped in his fists. Mary Margaret took a picture of that as well. There weren’t any questions on the three-block walk downtown, Henry weaving just a bit until Emma wrapped her arm around his shoulder and he didn’t even argue when she pulled him against her side.

He was half asleep by the time they got into the apartment, toeing out of his sneakers and leaving them directly in front of the door. Killian tossed his keys on the table, rolling his shoulders slightly and Emma didn’t even try to get her jacket on the actual hook.

It was domestic. It was nice. She was happy. The metaphorical birds were chirping at nearly eleven o’clock at night.

“Hey, teeth,” Emma said, miming a toothbrush with her finger when Henry started to clomp down the hallway.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he mumbled. “Night, Mom. Night, Dad. That was a crazy good goal before.” Emma’s... something cracked when she snapped back towards Killian, his eyes dangerously wide and jaw nearly on the floor and she wasn’t sure he was breathing. The bathroom door slammed shut and Killian jumped, blinking quickly like he was trying to get everything into focus.

Emma moved slowly, reaching a hand out cautiously.

He didn’t flinch when her hand landed on his arm.

“Did he…” Killian started, shaking his head in response to a question he hadn’t actually finished. “He’s tired. Something about the sun and draining energy and he’s just talking in tongues.” Her heart expanded and then exploded and the birds were singing some kind of love song medley in the middle of the apartment. “I’m fairly positive he was still speaking English,” Emma said and Killian let out a shaky laugh. “And that’s not the first time that’s happened today, so I don’t think you get to blame the sun.” “What?” “Some kid. I have no idea what his name is. Red hair, freckles all over his cheeks. Plays defense?”

“Brandon.” “Wait, really?” Killian nodded. “I am one-hundred percent positive that kid’s name is Brandon. He’s got a peanut allergy. Don’t ask me what his last name is though, I have no idea.”

“I mean, I thought his name was Ben, so you’re definitely winning on that front.”

“Was his name an important part of the story?” Killian asked, some of the surprise leaving his voice and he didn’t look quite as tense, one hand falling to Emma’s waist.

“Nah, that was just part of the set-up,” Emma muttered. “You scored and he told Henry his dad scored and there was no argument, just another string of adjectives to describe your goal. So, again, not the first time that’s happened today. Or the first time people have made sweeping assumptions about your family qualifiers.” “I thought your brother was going to kill that journalist.” Emma winced and this conversation was not going the way she expected it. That was kind of a trend...for her life.

Huh.

“Would it really be so bad?” she asked, practically shouting the question in the otherwise empty living room. She could hear the sink still running in the bathroom.

Killian furrowed his eyebrows, his hand stilling on her side and her shirt had rumpled slightly under his fingers. “Your brother killing a journalist at Yankee Stadium?” he asked. “It’d probably make it difficult for him to get dirt.” “I think Scarlet stole some for him.” “That doesn’t surprise me at all.” “That’s not really what I was talking about.” “You don’t say.”

Emma rolled her eyes and maybe she was the one who’d been drained by the sun because she actually stuck her tongue out, pushing slightly on Killian’s chest to try and get him towards the couch. He took the hint quickly, backing up and dropping into the corner, tugging her down with him until she was flush against his side with her legs perpendicular over his.

“What’s this really about, Swan?” he asked, brushing his fingers through the ends of her hair. “And when were you going to tell me about the cookbook?” “Probably when you weren’t freaking out about a charity soccer game.” Killian opened his mouth, but she snapped her jaw in frustration and the smirk that settled on his face was absolutely cheating. “I know it’s a match. I understand the terminology.” “You’re bouncing all around this conversation, love.” “That’s because you’re not telling me about interview revelations.” Killian sighed, resting his head on her shoulder and his arm tightened around her waist. “I didn’t...we’ve only kind of talked about it,” he mumbled. “Even if I’ve been thinking it for awhile.”

“How long is awhile? Exactly?” “Weeks. Months. Since the very beginning.” She needed to stop holding her breath without realizing it. She was probably doing permanent damage to her lungs. Or her brain. Her brain needed oxygen, right?

That made sense.

“I didn’t even help with Henry’s jersey,” Emma said. “He did that himself and asked Ruby to make sure there were tickets for his friends and he drew all the letters on the sign so Rol could color them in. This is...he’s thinking it too. Obviously.” “Obviously,” Killian echoed, a note of disbelief in his voice that didn’t belong there.

Emma took a deep breath, trying to draw on some kind of conversational and emotional courage she’d only recently discovered she had. “Would it help,” she started, choosing her words carefully, “if I mentioned that I’d also been thinking about it? In the affirmative?” Killian pulled his head up slowly, staring at her like he couldn't quite believe she was there or talking and Emma tried not to bite her lip too tightly. “The affirmative?” “You need to stop just repeating what I’m saying.” “That’s because I’m very confused.”

“I’m just saying...that if there were questions or, you know, whatever. My answer would be...yes.” “Yes,” Killian said, dragging the word out until it sounded long enough to be a keynote speech at the United Nations. “And I’m asking what, exactly?”

“Are we having the same conversation right now? I’m not sure that we are.” Killian shrugged, one of his shoulders brushing up against Emma’s in the process and he really did look confused. And just a bit nervous. “You would make a terrible pirate, you know,” Emma continued. “Hiding treasure in blatantly obvious places.”

Killian blanched, lips pressed together tightly and Emma was momentarily distracted by how ridiculously blue his eyes were before he was kissing her or she was kissing him and it didn’t really matter because they appeared to, finally, be on the same conversational page.

Emma didn’t remember swinging her leg over his hip, just that he groaned when she moved against him and they should probably stop doing this with a fourteen-year-old kid who regarded them both as parental authorities down the hallway. “Ah, gross,” Henry sighed, leaning against the wall with his arms cross and his feet crossed at the ankle and he’d learned both of those things from Killian. “You figure it out yet, Mom?” Emma nodded, her back not appreciating the twist she’d put it in when she tried to glance over her shoulder. “It’s your fault, you know. If you hadn’t left your sneakers everywhere, I never would have found it.” Henry scrunched his nose – and he’d gotten that from her. “Oh. Sorry.” Killian sighed, but he didn’t actually seem frustrated, he looked like he was bordering close to ecstatic and Emma understood the feeling. “You could still help, you know,” he said, nodding back towards the hallway and he didn’t have to say another word before Henry was sprinting towards his room and the box that was, apparently, still sitting behind his soccer cleats.

“He helped me pick it out,” Killian muttered and Emma’s stomach leapt into her throat and her heart did something absolutely impossible and she’d probably never stop smiling.

“He’d make a better pirate than you,” she said.

“I hope so.”

“Here, here, here, here,” Henry cried, sliding into the couch when his socks didn’t provide the necessary traction to stop immediately. “What happens now? Shouldn’t there be candles or something? There are always candles in the movies.”

“I don’t think we even own candles,” Emma said and Henry deflated immediately.

“For real?” “We’ve got to have candles somewhere, right?” Killian asked. Emma shook her head. “You should have candles, love. If we’re going to do this, we should do it the right way.” Emma was still smiling. And still sitting on top of Killian. “I really don’t need candles.”

“This wasn’t exactly the plan. At least let me get up, Swan. We’ve got to follow one of the rules.”

She made a face that absolutely did not belong in that current situation and Henry was jumping up and down again, the box still clutched tightly in his hands. Killian took a deep breath when Emma moved, running his fingers through his hair and resting his left hand on Henry’s shoulder.

“Thanks, kid,” he muttered, turning back towards Emma and she couldn’t breathe.

She didn’t really mind.

Killian grinned at her – any trace of smirk or joke forgotten as soon as his thumb flipped open the top of the box and Emma sat up straighter, pressing her heels into the ground like that would prove this was actually happening.

He got down on one knee.

“I’ve been hiding this behind soccer cleats for the last three weeks, so you’re already painfully aware that I didn’t really have much of a plan,” Killian started. “But this is...you are all I want, Swan. All of this. Us and this apartment and this life and charity soccer games and cookbooks and ridiculous filming schedules. I want that. Indefinitely and forever and side by side. No matter what.” He glanced over his shoulder at Henry, beaming and still jumping and Emma didn’t remember when she started to cry. “So, Emma Swan,” Killian said. “Will you marry me?”

She must have nodded and something in her brain told her to move, leaping off the couch and nearly knocking Killian off balance, but his arms caught her and Henry groaned when they started kissing again.

“Mom, Mom! You’ve got to put the ring on,” he shouted, phone out and shutter clicking and Emma did as instructed.

Killian kissed her again and then kissed her knuckles and her cheeks and her eyelids and if they never moved off the living room floor, Emma wouldn’t have minded.

They made hot chocolate and Henry fell asleep on the couch, his head on the arm and legs splayed out over both Emma and Killian. She was close to falling asleep herself, lulled into rest by Killian’s fingers tracing across her arm and the dim light reflecting off her ring.

“You never actually answered the question,” Killian said suddenly, mumbling the words into Emma’s hair. “If you want to get technical.”

“What?” “I asked you to marry me and you never actually answered. Just attack kissed me on the floor.” “Was that not an answer?” Emma asked, not quite able to hold back her laughter. “No.” “Ah, well, I thought that would be kind of obvious when I said yes before you even asked.” “You’re evading on purpose, Swan.” “I absolutely am,” she agreed, burrowing her face against him.

“An answer, Emma.” She’d probably tease him about the slightly desperate edge to his voice at some point, but they had the rest of their lives for that.

They had the rest of their lives for that.

“Yes,” Emma breathed and the word seem to settle in the very middle of her or maybe on her left ring finger.

She was never going to stop smiling.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah. Just like this.” They fell asleep on the couch and made pancakes the next morning with peanut butter chips and cinnamon in their coffee and Mary Margaret screamed when Emma called her.

#cs ff #captain swan ff #ouat ff #this is just like....fluff #like a cloud #cloud fic #WITH AN ACTUAL SOCCER GAME #finallyyyyy

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jswdmb1 · 5 years

Text

New York, New York

I'll always be thinkin' of you

I always love you, love New York

- Ryan Adams

When I was twenty-five, I took a job doing internal audit work for a large bank. Most of the areas that I was responsible for were in Chicago, but we had some operations in a few other cities that gave me the opportunity to travel to places I had never been. Toronto, Atlanta, and for two weeks a year, New York City.

There are a few cities in this world that make an indelible first impression on you. A few that I have been to include Paris, Washington DC, and San Francisco, but none made me feel the way I did the first time I was in New York. I think that part of it is the mythical nature of the city, more so than any other. After years of seeing the city in movies and on TV, hearing about it in song, and reading countless books with New York as the setting, you can’t help to paint a picture of the city in your head long before you get there (or even if you have never been). However, no matter what you conjured up in your imagination, it could never match the actual sights, sounds (and smells) of America’s largest city and arguably the capital of the free world.

When I was on assignment in New York, the location I covered was on Wall Street right next to the New York Stock Exchange. We stayed a couple of blocks away at the sleek Millennium Hilton across from the World Trade Center. Before I actually went to New York, I always associated the World Trade Center with the two big “twin” towers, but it was much more than that. It was actually a complex of several (seven, I think) buildings and was a huge transportation hub. It would be like if in Chicago there were two Sears Towers next to each other surrounded by five or six other massive buildings with the Metra and five “L” lines all coming in underneath. It was like nothing I had even seen. On the last night of my first trip there, our boss came into town and took us out for a special dinner at the Windows of the World restaurant near the top of one of the twin towers (South if I remember right). To this day, it was one of the most memorable dining experiences of my life. I will never forget looking out the windows and gazing upon that great city and thinking that I really had made it.

I couldn’t wait to get home and share my experiences with my Dad. He had never been to New York and it was one of the first times in my young life I could fill him in on something versus the other way around. He had always suspected that New York was crowded, dirty and dangerous, and while there certainly some truth in that, I was able to give him a sense of the wonderful things that were there as well. Everything was on the grandest scale that you could imagine with a diversity and style unparalleled. I knew at that point I would never see another place like it.

By the summer of 2001, I had made a number of trips to New York and got to know some of the people at our location there pretty well. Contrary to what I had been led to believe through movies and legend, people from New York (at least the ones I knew), were awfully nice people. I often took advantage of my employer’s offer to let us stay the weekends on multi-week trips and started to feel like a resident after a while. I did it all - baseball games (both old Yankee and Shea Stadiums), Broadway shows, Coney Island, Central Park, and lots and lots of bars. I was fascinated with the subway system and studied its maps so I could get around to all of these places on my tight budget. Even though I was far from being a native, I felt like a little more than a tourist at that point. Maybe a little like an adopted son.

On September 11th, I was on an out-of-town assignment, but not in New York. We were working in a conference room in Atlanta when someone came in with a horrified look on her face and asked if we heard the news. She told us we better stop what we are doing and head to the conference room to join the others watching what was unfolding on the TV. We were all equally aghast at what we saw, but I was also trying to process what was happening to a place I had started to consider a bit of a second home. I started thinking about my friends in our New York office just a few blocks away and got really worried. When the first tower fell before my eyes, I thought I felt the shake all the way down in Atlanta. It turns out that shake was real - but it was actually my leg twitching uncontrollably in fear and I had to brace myself against the wall to keep from falling down. I can honestly say that I have never been as scared before or since in my life.

We had our annual trip to the New York office scheduled for that October. To be really honest, I was really scared at that point to go back. I don’t think I felt like I would be unsafe as things were quite under control at that point, but I didn’t know if I could handle the psychological impact of seeing the place in that state. Thankfully, none of our workers at the office were injured seriously, but I knew from phone conversations with their boss that there was some real trauma experienced. I decided that we needed to go no matter the concern. I needed to go to support the friends that I made, and I needed to go to face the reality of what happened.

We flew in at night and the beam of light from ground zero illuminated the sky. We couldn’t stay at the Hilton as it suffered damage in the attack, so we were up in midtown by the park. We took the subway to the office and when we came up the first thing I noticed was an acrid smell of burning debris that had a hint of must to it from being wet. You couldn’t go down to ground zero, but you could get pretty close and look at it from certain vantage points. My coworkers went, but I couldn’t. The closest I got was gazing up a street to see the mangled wreck of what used to be World Trade Building 4 where I would catch the subway on one of my many night and weekend adventures on prior trips. There would be no such fun on this trips. We were there just a couple days, had a lot of work to do, and I was in no mood for much of anything at night but processing all I had seen. Getting home from that trip was such a relief, but looking back I am really glad I went. While I didn’t personally know anyone who died in the attacks, it felt like I lost something that day and the trip provided some closure.

I made one more trip to New York after 2001 and it was tough for me still. I then got a promotion and could send people in my place for the annual trip, so that’s what I did. I left the job a couple of years later and never have returned to New York since that day. My wife went there a year or so ago for the first time and it got me thinking again about a return with her. So much time has passed that I wonder if I will get that same feeling again as the first time I went over twenty years ago. I would not expect the feeling to be the same, and I’ll never forget what happened, but it would be nice for both me and the city to reestablish our relationship. In the meantime, I always look back on the anniversary of 9/11 about not just the events of that day, but my overall memories and feelings of the city that impressed so much the first time I visited in 1997. I also stay aware of how many people sacrificed their lives that day, and how many thousands more in the ensuring wars that still go on, and how grateful I am for their service.

So, on this 18th anniversary of that horrible day, please continue to reflect, remember, and give thanks that despite all that was lost that day in New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania, what remained intact was our freedom and a spirit of oneness. We need that more than ever in a day when I wonder if people sometimes really have forgotten what happened that day and what brought us together in the aftermath. If we can bring some of that back, then maybe the lives lost that day were not in vain.

Peace,

Jim

P.S. - the picture is a still shot of the video Ryan shot on September 7, 2001. It is likely the last of many times the towers were featured on film before the attacks.

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brajeshupadhyay · 4 years

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Solving the mystery behind the disappearance of Kelly Dwyer

Produced by Susan Mallie and Josh Gelman

[Originally broadcast on November 2, 2019; updated on May 16, 2020]

When Kelly Dwyer didn’t show up for work on Oct. 12, 2013, her co-workers were the first to respond by calling her cell phone and checking social media. Investigators would learn her phone was dead, her social media was down, and her debit card hadn’t been used.

“In an age of an electronic footprint, if you will, it’s not there,” Assistant District Attorney Sara Hill tells “48 Hours” correspondent Peter Van Sant. “It’s like she just isn’t anymore.”

Investigators would learn that Dwyer had been last seen alive on a date with Kris Zocco, whom she had been dating for about a year. Police initially think Zocco had something to do with Dwyer’s disappearance – which he denies. But then, Zocco was arrested for drugs that police found while searching for clues to Dwyer’s disappearance. Investigators also learn Zocco had a long-time girlfriend who didn’t know about Dwyer and that Dwyer was dating others she had met through dating websites. Friends also told police they occasionally noticed bruising on Dwyer’s wrists and neck, something they say she laughed off as a crazy night.

It’s a case about a young woman with a promising future cut short. The investigation raises questions about the risks of online dating, risky sex and the hidden double lives unknown by those who loved them.

“There are some evil people out there,” says Katherine Spano, who was a detective with the Milwaukee Police Department when Dwyer went missing.

Where does the twisted tale lead?

WITHOUT A TRACE

Like the rest of Milwaukee, Assistant District Attorney Sara Hill found Kelly Dwyer’s sudden disappearance in 2013 baffling.

Sara Hill: It’s like she vanishes. … Her social media goes dead … Her debit card goes dead. … The phone is dead.

The night of October 10 started out like any other for Kelly. She’d been on a date with a man named Kris Zocco.

Sara Hill: Kelly came to Kris’ apartment building. … They go to get a few drinks and have a nice night out at a place called Allium … a cute little bar that was kind of across the street from the apartment building.

Chanell Royston was at the bar that night. Kelly told her what she planned to do the next day.

Chanell Royston: I remember her and I having a small conversation of “so what do you have to do tomorrow?” And she goes “I actually have off. … I want to wake up in the morning. I want to do yoga. I want to do laundry and just have an easy day.”

Sara Hill: They picked up a pizza from Ian’s, a little pizza place that’s like a block away, brought it to the bar.

Chanell Royston: We were all sitting outside on this very long communal picnic bench. … We were all nibbling on the pizza. You know they’re sharing it with us.

Kelly and Kris decide to call it a night.

Kelly Dwyer and Kris Zocco are seen on security video entering the lobby of his apartment building after their night out.

Milwaukee Police Department

Sara Hill: A little after two in the morning … they head back to Mr. Zocco’s apartment building across the street.

Kelly and Kris had been dating for about a year after being introduced through a mutual friend. Kelly had moved to Milwaukee in 2008 and gone to college.

Sara Hill: When we’re in our early 20s that’s definitely a time of exploration when you’re trying to find your own footing as an adult.

Kelly’s journey of self-discovery had led to yoga class, and instructor Ryan Hader.

Ryan Hader: She always greeted me with a hug. … She was always excited to see me and excited to get her butt kicked in my class. … And her energy was just infectious.

Kelly worked part-time as a nanny and as a salesperson for an athletic apparel store where her tight-knit co-workers were the first to sound the alarm when she missed a shift.

Ryan Hader: They worked together. And they played together. … It’s like she found her tribe.

Peter Van Sant: When was the last time that you saw Kelly Dwyer?

Ryan Hader: It was just before her birthday … She was like, “Something big is going to happen. I can feel it. This feels really important to me.”

Kelly Dwyer and Chris Zocco

Facebook/

Kelly had just turned 27. And her relationship with 38-year-old Kris Zocco seemed to be taking on greater meaning for her.

Sara Hill: Based on what her friends said it certainly appeared to me that she was extremely interested in him, maybe even in love with him.

Kris’ mother, Joyce Frye.

Joyce Frye: He was always into sports. He always had a lot of friends. … He was a very good golfer. … My dad took him out to the driving ranges. … I think he put a golf club in Kris’s hand when he was about 3.

Kris graduated from Boston University with a degree in international business, but his love of sports led him to his dream job.

Joyce Frye: He was a major Yankee fan. … And they did hire him in their IT staff. And he just thought that was — there could never be anything better.

Peter Van Sant: And where was his office.

Joyce Frye: It was at the ballpark.

Peter Van Sant: At Yankee stadium? That’s where his office was? So, he was in heaven.

Joyce Frye: Yeah, he really was.

But Frye says Kris left New York in search of new opportunities, eventually landing in Milwaukee in 2009, and winding up at the relocation management company where she worked.

Joyce Frye: He was the CIO. … The chief information officer.

Det. Katherine Spano: I became involved in … Kelly Dwyer’s missing person investigation.

Katherine Spano, then a detective with the Milwaukee police department, would learn about Kelly and Kris’ relationship. She says Kelly’s reasons for dating Kris were obvious.

Det. Katherine Spano: He was educated, he was bright, he was smart. … He had a job that paid him well. … He had a nice car, a beautiful condo down on the east side.

While some friends thought Kelly might have been in love with Kris, it seemed Zocco might not have been on the same page.

Det. Katherine Spano: Kris Zocco described his relationship with Kelly Dwyer as friends with benefits.

But it did seem Kelly was keeping her options open.

Sara Hill: Mr. Zocco didn’t make promises to her that he was being exclusive with her, and she also dated some other people.

Royston recalls another time, not long before Kelly went missing.

Chanell Royston: It was a very easy night here at the bar.

Royston was out at the Allium bar when Kris and Kelly invited her back to Kris’ apartment at closing time.

Chanell Royston: I went across the street with them for a nightcap … walked out to the balcony to smoke a cigarette. Kris then joined me. He was smoking marijuana. Kelly was inside. I don’t know exactly what Kelly was doing.

Royston says she got a bad feeling.

Chanell Royston: I just had this urge that I needed to leave.

Though she’d just arrived, she told Kris and Kelly she’d suddenly realized how late it was and that she had to work in the morning.

Chanell Royston: I looked at Kelly. I said, “I need to leave.” And she looked up and said, “Are you sure?” I said, “Yup, it’s OK. It’s just late — later than I thought. I need to go home.” And I walked out.

Peter Van Sant: What was it? What was your sixth sense telling you?

Chanell Royston: I don’t know. It just — you weren’t supposed to be there — bad space, bad juju, you don’t need to be here.

Royston wasn’t the only one to get the sense that all might not have been right in Kelly’s world. Kelly, like many women her age, had been active on several dating websites.

Chanell Royston: Even though she was seeing Kris and I’m thinking that that was the main person she was seeing, she was dating other people. There were other people and other men involved.

And her friends were concerned.

Sara Hill: She made a few statements … they were usually prompted by the friends observing bruising on her wrists or her neck and wondering why she has those bruises.

Peter Van Sant: She told one friend she kind of laughed about these bruises on her neck and wrists and laughed it off as a crazy night –

Sara Hill: Right.

Peter Van Sant: — and changed the subject.

Sara Hill: Yes.

As police faced the daunting task of finding Kelly, would her love life provide their first clue?

WHERE’S KELLY?

Det. Tammy Tramel-McClain: So, on Monday, October 14, I started my shift at 4 p.m. I learned that Kelly Dwyer, a young woman, had been reported missing and had not been seen or heard from since the previous Friday.

As Kelly Dwyer’s family and friends continued to search for her, Milwaukee Police Detective Tammy Tramel-McClain arrived at the scene of Kelly’s last known whereabouts three days earlier – Kris Zocco’s apartment building.

Det. Tammy Tramel-McClain: They come right through this door. And he actually holds the door open for her.

Peter Van Sant: You can see that on the video.

Det. Tammy Tramel-McClain: Yes.

Sara Hill: You see two people that are chatting. … Walk past that camera, then there’s another camera that catches them turning the corner to the elevator. And you can see Kelly in her typical, I think, outgoing fashion. … She’s gesturing with her hands a little. … They bend the corner. And then that’s the last time that she is ever seen alive by anyone.

Kelly Dwyer is seen for the last time rounding a corner as she heads to Kris Zocco’s apartment.

Milwaukee Police Department

Now it was time to talk to the other person in that video. Tramel-McClain sat down with Zocco in his 18th floor apartment.

Det. Tammy Tramel-McClain: He came off as a pretty nice guy.

Det. Tammy Tramel-McClain: He said … she would hang out with him a couple of times a week. … He used the word “party.” They party together.

Somewhat shockingly, Zocco didn’t hold back — telling police exactly what he meant by “party,” as he described how he and Kelly had ended their evening.

Det. Tammy Tramel-McClain: They walk back. And they do … lines of cocaine. They have a couple more drinks. He says there was sex, and they both passed out on opposite ends of his couch.

Zocco said Kelly left around 9 a.m. the next morning, adding that he heard the front door click shut behind her. There was only one problem with that.

Det. Tammy Tramel-McClain: While I’m speaking with him, I get a text message from one of the other investigators who have been watching video downstairs with the manager. … And he simply just says in the text “she doesn’t come out.”

As Tramel-McClain focused on how Kelly could have slipped out of this high security building undetected, Zocco seemed more interested in shifting focus away from himself.

Det. Tammy Tramel-McClain: “Well, you know, she’s messing around with a lot of other guys. … There’s some other guy.” … You know, kind of trying to take the attention away from himself.

That may have been Zocco’s intention, but that’s not what happened.

Peter Van Sant: In your bones, in your gut based on your instinct and your training and experience, you felt like you were looking at a suspect.

Det. Tammy Tramel-McClain: Yes.

Police needed a way to search Zocco’s apartment for evidence. Because he had told Tramel-McClain he’d used drugs there, they were able to get a search warrant.

Peter Van Sant: What did you find?

Det. Tammy Tramel-McClain: Lines of cocaine on top of a magazine. … Some canisters of marijuana in the refrigerator. Painkillers, pills and marijuana pipes, smoking pipes.

Zocco was arrested for drug possession. During his interview, he seemed flip — even when asked routine questions about his medical history:

DETECTIVE: Anxiety? Nothing like that?

KRIS ZOCCO: I have anxiety when they brought me in.

DETECTIVE: OK. But no, uh?

KRIS ZOCCO: No, I’m not taking anything for it.

DETECTIVE: OK. No problem. But no bipolar? Schizophrenia?

KRIS ZOCCO: I suppose that’s all open to interpretation by somebody.

Zocco’s interrogation finishes abruptly:

KRIS ZOCCO: I’d like to call my lawyer.

Calm and cool or overzealous? Listen to Kris Zocco’s interrogation with detectives

But while they had Zocco in custody, police get a warrant to search his cell phone, hoping to find clues in Kelly’s disappearance. They were stunned to find a video of Zocco and Kelly Dwyer engaged in a sex act where Kelly appears to be in distress.

Sara Hill: She can’t breathe. She’s … straining for breath.

Peter Van Sant: When was this video taken?

Sara Hill: That video was taken approximately three weeks before she went missing.

And there was more incriminating evidence: disturbing pictures of Kelly on Zocco’s phone.

Sara Hill: Still photographs that are very concerning as well because she appears to be unconscious on his bed.

Kris Zocco was arrested for drug possession on October 17, 2013.

Milwaukee County Sheriff’s Office

But police could not link those images to Kelly’s disappearance. And despite Zocco being a person of interest, they could only charge him with drug possession. But that search of his apartment led police to a bizarre discovery in his bathroom.

Sara Hill: During that first search warrant the police observe the shower curtain hooks with the torn fragments of shower curtain.

Not knowing what a torn-down shower curtain could mean, and concerned that Kelly is never seen exiting the building —

Sara Hill: They then bring in a canine to conduct a sniff for the odor of decomposing human remains.

And that police cadaver dog, Molly, would deliver some stunning results.

Sara Hill: There’s an indication at the outside of the apartment door. … In the parking garage on the level he parked his car. … On the dumpster door on the 18th floor.

Det. Tammy Tramel-McClain: Molly alerted on the hallway, guest bedroom, guest bathroom. … She went on to the master bedroom, got up on to Kris Zocco’s bed.

Sara Hill: She seemed to be sniffing vigorously on top of his bed and gives her final formal trained alert.

For police, that moment changed this case forever. They now believed Kelly was dead and her final moments had been in Kris Zocco’s apartment.

Peter Van Sant: And if Kelly died on that bed … where did the body go?

Det. Tammy Tramel-McClain: That’s what we needed to find out. And Kris Zocco had those answers. And at that point, it was turning into a homicide investigation.

Not having enough to charge Zocco, and not knowing where Kelly’s body could be, police search Zocco’s home electronics for more clues.

Sara Hill: They examined an external hard drive and some disks that were found in his spare bedroom.

Peter Van Sant: What’s on that hard drive?

Sara Hill: That hard drive has a number of hardcore child pornography videos. Very extremely, extremely disturbing.

Zocco disavowed any knowledge of the child pornography police found.

Joyce Frye | Kris Zocco’s mother: If you’re an IT guy, you collect stuff. So, you collect old hard drives. You collect disks. You collect, you know, you just collect IT equipment. And that particular hard drive was from his former place of work in Boston. … He didn’t know it was there.

Peter Van Sant: And you believe him?

Joyce Frye: I do believe him. Yeah.

It had been two weeks since Kelly disappeared. Zocco was arrested again, this time for possession of child pornography. By early November 2013, he was out on bail and awaiting trial on the drug and child porn charges.

DETECTIVE: Girlfriend?

KRIS ZOCCO: Uh, no. I mean, I date multiple people.

But before Zocco had lawyered up in that first interrogation, it would turn out he’d said something that would come back to haunt him:

DETECTIVE: OK, so nobody you consider your girlfriend right now?

KRIS ZOCCO: No. There is a couple of girls that I would like to be my girlfriend, but it hasn’t been that seriously [sic] yet, I guess [laughs].

Det. Katherine Spano: He began dating a young woman in 2009.

Det. Tammy Tramel-McClain: He was living two different lives.

THE OTHER WOMAN

According to Chanell Royston, before Kelly Dwyer disappeared, it seemed her relationship with Kris Zocco was evolving.

Chanell Royston: Towards the end … there was more touching. … and more of the smiling towards each other. There was more affection there than there had been towards the beginning.

Peter Van Sant: Did Kelly ever tell you that she was falling in love with Chris?

Chanell Royston: She never told me. But you could tell, you know … how she would look at him that she was looking for something more. And I think … that she did love him at that point.

It turns out Zocco may have been in love as well — with someone else.

Sara Hill: He was in a very serious relationship with a woman … who he was dating at the time that he was seeing Kelly. And this young woman knew nothing about the relationship with Kelly.

Peter Van Sant: And did Kelly have any idea about this other woman?

Sara Hill | Assistant District Attorney: Absolutely not.

And neither did investigators until this “other” woman’s brother, after seeing Zocco arrested on the news, reported to police that his sister, Meagan, had been dating Zocco for more than three years.

Det. Katherine Spano: When I went to interview the long-term girlfriend, Meagan … I had a lot of photographs from the search warrants with me. And I was able to … have her identify different objects within the apartment.

Sara Hill: They learned that a number of things were missing … She described that that guest bathroom … there should have been a shower curtain. There should have been a little rug and some matching decorative towels.

Det. Katherine Spano: All of those things were gone, and she was surprised to see that. She identified the shower curtain hooks … that were bent and torn, identified the fact that they were not like that when she had last been in there.

Peter Van Sant: And it’s in that very bathroom where the sniffer dog had alerted — detecting human remains.

Det. Katherine Spano: Exactly. Exactly.

Meagan also identified one more missing item.

Det. Katherine Spano: There had been a large travel golf bag lying in front of the TV that had been there for weeks and weeks, that they literally would have to step over to get into the bathroom and that was missing.

A travel golf bag is commonly used by golfers to protect their clubs.

Peter Van Sant: It’s all padded … very large.

Det. Katherine Spano: Very large. … It was padded. It was silver. And she thought it was maybe two, two-and-a-half feet wide.

Detectives wondered if Zocco had a more sinister use for the bag.

Peter Van Sant: Could Kelly’s body have fit inside that travel bag?

Det. Katherine Spano: Yes. Absolutely. Absolutely.

But how did Zocco get that bag out of his apartment? There is no video of Zocco leaving on any of the 28 surveillance cameras in the building.

Sara Hill: There is no camera on the elevator. … So, he could take her body in the travel golf bag out of his apartment, into the elevator, down to the first floor and out to the garage without being captured on any cameras.

But there are cameras inside the garage and yet no image of Zocco with that bag.

Sara Hill: The garage is the only area where the cameras would be motion activated. … Some of the investigators think he just got lucky with it.

It took months of painstaking work for Milwaukee Police Department investigators to piece together Kris Zocco’s movements on the days after his date with Kelly Dwyer. Lt. Erik Gulbrandson worked the case as both a homicide and cold case detective.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 11 | 10:06 A.M.

Det. Erik Gulbrandson: At 10:06 a.m. … we have Kris Zocco standing by the driver’s side door. … When he leaves that building at 10:08 a.m., Kelly Dwyer’s phone — it goes dead.

Peter Van Sant: What do you think happened to the phone at that moment?

Det. Erik Gulbrandson: Broken, powered down, thrown in the water.

Det. Katherine Spano: The river is very close by.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 11 | 10:22 A.M.

Zocco is next seen back in his garage 16 minutes later standing by the trunk of his car.

Det. Erik Gulbrandson: If you look closely in that image … there’s … a gray or silver object lying in the vehicle above the trunk level. … I think that’s consistent with the travel golf bag.

Surveillance video shows Kris Zocco at the trunk of his car. Detectives say a gray or silver object lying in the vehicle above the trunk level “is consistent with the travel golf bag.”

Milwaukee Police Department

Peter Van Sant: So, you believe Kelly Dwyer is in the trunk of his vehicle?

Det. Erik Gulbrandson: I do.

Investigators believe that because the cadaver dog, Molly, told them so.

Det. Katherine Spano: The cadaver dog not only hits on all of those things in the apartment, but … the dog hits on the car also and the trunk and on the door handle … and inside the vehicle.

Over the next eight hours, video shows Zocco coming and going several more times, loading items into his car before finally leaving for the day at 6:16 p.m.

Det. Tammy Tramel-McClain: He said … he decided to take … his summer sports equipment to his mother’s house.

Peter Van Sant: On a Friday night around 6:30.

Det. Tammy Tramel-McClain: Sure. Yes.

Joyce Frye | Kris Zocco’s mother: He came over to drop off some golf clubs and his baseball equipment.

Peter Van Sant: And, so, there’s nothing in your mind unusual when he showed up with this sporting equipment at your place?

Joyce Frye: Not at all.

Peter Van Sant: There’s a golf bag that investigators say went missing, a bag that they claim … Kelly Dwyer’s body was in. Did you ever see this golf bag?

Joyce Frye: Never.

It’s 7:30 p.m. on Friday, October 11 and Zocco is now due at his girlfriend’s house for a Friday night dinner, but investigators learn he didn’t arrive until about 8:45 p.m.

Sara Hill: There’s time that’s unaccounted for. … We believe he was possibly looking for areas to dispose of the body during that time.

Unfortunately, detectives weren’t able to trace Zocco’s movements from his phone records.

Peter Van Sant: Was his cell phone on or off?

Sara Hill: It was off.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 11 | 8:45 P.M.

When Zocco did finally arrive for dinner, his girlfriend told investigators he wasn’t quite himself.

Sara Hill: He was quite late. And he seemed a little bit ruffled, a little bit nervous. He’s fiddling with his phone, claiming it doesn’t work.

Det. Erik Gulbrandson: When they went to bed, she described him as being restless. She described him as sweating profusely, to the point where she actually had to change the sheets. … She found that very unusual.

And Zocco may have had a very good reason to sweat that night.

Sara Hill: His car is parked near his girlfriend’s house overnight. We believe that body is absolutely in that trunk locked inside that golf bag.

Det. Katherine Spano: He could not have left that body in his apartment because that’s the first place everybody went to look for Kelly.

The following morning, investigators say, Zocco rose with the sun — still faced with a nightmare.

Det. Katherine Spano: He was desperate. By Saturday he had to get that body out of that vehicle.

CREATING AN ALIBI

One day after Kelly Dwyer disappeared, Kris Zocco left his girlfriend’s apartment and hit the road. Where he went that morning would be the first in a series of clues as to what may have happened to Kelly Dwyer.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 12 | 7:30 A.M.

Det. Erik Gulbrandson: Kris Zocco had gone to a place called the Mousehouse.

Peter Van Sant: What’s the Mousehouse?

Det. Erik Gulbrandson: It’s a cheese place.

The Mousehouse is 80 miles from Milwaukee, near Madison, Wisconsin — one cheese shop in a state full of cheese shops.

Peter Van Sant: Why would he drive up toward Madison to buy cheese?

Sara Hill: It’s a very good question. A very good question.

Investigators caught a break when they learned Kris Zocco took a 160-mile roundtrip the day after Kelly Dwyer’s disappearance to go to the Mousehouse, near Madison, Wisconsin.

CBS News

Zocco says he drove 160 miles roundtrip to buy a half pound wedge of cheese for his girlfriend’s parents. But the investigators say that he did it to finally dispose of Kelly’s body somewhere in the rural Wisconsin farmland between Madison and Milwaukee.

Peter Van Sant: In case he was spotted, do you believe Zocco … actually went to the Mousehouse to create an alibi of sorts?

Det. Katherine Spano: I do. I certainly do.

Police believe that after dumping Kelly’s body, Zocco made his way to a shopping center on his drive to Milwaukee. Investigators say that he walked into a “Sports Authority” and used his credit card to buy a brand-new pair of sneakers.

Peter Van Sant: Why is he buying new sneakers?

Sara Hill: He might have purchased those sneakers to replace ones that he used in — in dumping the body … like he might have been concerned that evidence got on those sneakers, so he had to have new ones to put on.

Sara Hill: Here’s the slip up. I don’t know if maybe he just had a momentary lapse of judgment … but that created a paper trail for him.

That paper trail was a single credit card receipt, which gave detectives a critical piece of the timeline.

Det. Erik Gulbrandson: We know, through the investigation, that he purchased the cheese at 9:55 a.m. and we know that he purchased the shoes at 12:11 p.m. The distance between the Mousehouse and Sports Authority … is 54 miles. And it should take 47 minutes to get there, but yet we have 90 minutes unaccounted for at that time.

Ninety minutes — certainly enough time, detectives believed, for Zocco to locate a secluded spot off the highway. But for them to find that spot would be like finding a needle in a haystack. And without Kelly’s body, there was no physical evidence of a crime to charge Zocco with — only circumstance and suspicion.

Peter Van Sant: Did you want to take it to trial then?

Sara Hill: It was tough.

Peter Van Sant: What was missing?

Sara Hill: What was missing was her body.

Eventually, Kris Zocco did go on trial, in November 2014 — not for murder, but for the child pornography possession uncovered with the initial investigation search warrants.

Peter Van Sant: What’s the result of that trial?

Sara Hill: He’s convicted of all but one count.

One month later, Zocco pleaded guilty to additional drug charges and was sentenced to a total of 19 years.

Peter Van Sant: So, are you done with Kris Zocco? Is that it? … Or is the … potential murder investigation still hanging over his head?

Sara Hill: It’s still there.

Det. Katherine Spano: We still wanted to be able to find out what actually happened with Kelly.

MAY 1, 2015 | LOCAL NEWS REPORT: Breaking news tonight. Authorities have just identified the remains of 27-year-old Kelly Dwyer.

Peter Van Sant [standing in field]: Detective, where are we?

Det. Katherine Spano: We are on a dead-end country road and we are … about 45 miles west of Milwaukee. … And it’s quite overgrown here, but this is the specific area where Kelly Dwyer’s body was found.

Detective: Killer picked the “perfect spot” to get rid of Milwaukee woman’s body

For a year-and-a-half, Kelly Dwyer had been hidden under trees just six miles from busy I-94 before her remains were discovered by local man out for a walk.

Sara Hill: He catches a glint of light hitting off of something that’s whitish in color. … And when he takes a closer look, he sees what appears to be a human skull.

Six days later, using dental records, those remains were confirmed to be Kelly Dwyer. What could not be confirmed, though, was just how she died.

Sara Hill: There was nothing on that skeleton to tell us what the cause of death was.

There was no physical evidence found at the scene, either.

Det. Katherine Spano [standing in field]: No shower curtain. No cloth. No towel. No clothing.

And no travel golf bag. But detectives say there was one clue left behind: the position of Kelly’s skeleton.

Det. Katherine Spano [standing in field]: Her feet and legs were more over in this area with one of her legs completely turned … very contorted. Same thing with her left arm, it was behind her back as if she had been scrunched into some kind of a container.

Peter Van Sant: Like a golf travel bag.

Det. Katherine Spano: Like a golf travel bag. Exactly. Exactly.

It would appear that police now had enough evidence to bring Kris Zocco back to court for the death of Kelly Dwyer.

Sara Hill: It is just too much of a coincidence that her body is found somewhat near … where he was shopping on the day after she goes missing.

But Assistant District Attorney Hill wanted more than coincidence to build an airtight case.

Sara Hill: We wanted to make sure … that we had uncovered all of the evidence we would be able to uncover. … When you have a case that’s going to be largely circumstantial, it’s absolutely essential you do that.

And with Kris Zocco already in prison, there was no rush. It took another two years of investigative work before the state of Wisconsin charged Zocco in the death of Kelly Dwyer — and another year-and-a-half to bring the case to trial.

SEEKING JUSTICE FOR KELLY

Almost five years after Kelly Dwyer went missing, Kris Zocco goes on trial for her death. But surprising to some, it’s not for murder.

Det. Erik Gulbrandson: Kris Zocco was charged with first-degree reckless homicide, hiding a corpse and strangulation, suffocation.

With the media restricted behind courtroom security glass, prosecutor Sara Hill presents the state’s theory of how they believe Kelly died.

SARA HILL | ASSISTANT DISTRICT ATTORNEY [opening statement]: Good morning ladies and gentlemen. This case is about a young woman named Kelly Dwyer. … You will hear evidence that the defendant Mr. Zocco … was basically having sex with Kelly Dwyer and … he winds up killing her.

Det. Katherine Spano: I think Kris Zocco enjoyed taking women to the brink of death for his own sexual gratification.

In fact, investigators interviewed several women who said that Zocco engaged in this type of behavior as far back as high school.

Sara Hill: It was that reckless conduct that wound up killing Kelly Dwyer. And then // Mr. Zocco had to do something about it.

Det. Erik Gulbrandson: Kris … uses that shower curtain and wraps her up … puts her into the golf bag and goes down to his parking garage.

Craig Mastantuono: The police have no evidence to believe that Ms. Dwyer exited the apartment in either a shower curtain or a golf travel bag.

Kris Zocco’s defense attorneys Craig Mastantuono and Rebecca Coffee say the state has it all wrong.

Craig Mastantuono: Someone did kill Kelly Dwyer, but it wasn’t Kris Zocco.

REBECCA COFFEE | DEFENSE ATTORNEY [Opening statement]: This case is more about the State wanting Mr. Zocco to be guilty than having the evidence to prove it.

Peter Van Sant: Is there any eyewitness to this alleged crime?

Rebecca Coffee | Defense attorney: There was no eyewitness. No.

Peter Van Sant: Is there a CSI moment, some definitive piece of DNA?

Rebecca Coffee: There was no DNA evidence.

Almost five years after Kelly Dwyer went missing, Kris Zocco goes on trial for her death, charged with first-degree reckless homicide, hiding a corpse and strangulation, suffocation.

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The prosecution contends that while the security camera video clearly shows Kelly walking into Zocco’s building, she is never seen walking out.

Craig Mastantuono | Defense attorney: She very well could have left the building in a way that wasn’t reviewed.

The defense argues there is video from several cameras they never had a chance to examine, because it was not preserved as evidence.

Craig Mastantuono: When the defense went to review all of the video evidence … that video was missing.

And what about that missing travel golf bag police insists is in the back of Zocco’s car?

Rebecca Coffee: We’ve looked at that picture. There is no silver bag in his trunk. … There is no video of him … carrying a bag that would have been a very large bag to fit a woman who is 5-foot-7. … There was no video of that because that didn’t happen.

Peter Van Sant: The cadaver dog evidence seems significant.

SARA HILL [Opening statement]: Canine Molly alerts on the bed in the master bedroom and she also alerts in the garage.

Craig Mastantuono: There’s no way whatsoever to verify what the officer says this dog alerted to. It wasn’t even filmed. And, so, it’s entirely dependent on a police officer describing what she believes her dog was alerting to.

And the defense also has an explanation for that video from Zocco’s phone, where Kelly appears to be in distress:

REBECCA COFFEE [Opening statement]: The government found a video that Kelly Dwyer and Kris Zocco made together. … They are calling it strangulation or suffocation. A consensual sexual act is what it depicts.

Craig Mastantuono: That type of sex is depicted in mainstream motion pictures like “50 Shades of Gray” as being engaged in with two consensual adults.

Peter Van Sant: If Kris Zocco did not kill Kelly Dwyer, who did?

Craig Mastantuono: I don’t know. I don’t think that we know. I think that we know that it could have been a number of other people.

The defense says that’s because Kelly dated men she had met online.

Peter Van Sant: And is this suggestion … that perhaps … she met up with one of these individuals … and that that could be the cause of her disappearance?

Craig Mastantuono: Yes.

Rebecca Coffee: Yes.

Craig Mastantuono: Yes.

To support that theory, the defense presented a witness who says that he saw Kelly after she was reported missing.

Craig Mastantuono: Someone who credibly said I saw her that weekend in the car of another individual.

Sara Hill: His observation of this individual was very brief at a stoplight.

FORTHUNE HASAN | WITNESS [testifying]: I was sure it was her. It looked exactly like her.

Craig Mastantuono: He went to the district station and said, I saw the woman that is being looked for, that’s on the posters, that’s on TV.

REBECCA COFFEE: Did anyone ever follow up with you about that information?

FORTHUNE HASAN: No.

Peter Van Sant: You think he’s just mistaken?

Sara Hill: I think he’s mistaken. I don’t think he was is trying to mislead anybody. I just truly believe he’s mistaken.

After nine days of argument and testimony, the case seemed to rest on one thing: the quality of the evidence:

SARA HILL [Closing statement]: Ladies and gentlemen, the defendant killed Kelly Dwyer. Every piece of circumstantial evidence supports that.

CRAIG MASTANTUANO | DEFENSE ATTORNEY [Closing statement]: Despite the tragedy of Ms. Dwyer’s demise, it’s not justice to find Kris Zocco guilty based on conjecture. It’s justice to find him not guilty.

Sara Hill: All of the factors pointed to him. … There’s no other person that could have done it.

It took the jury only three-and-a-half hours to reach the same conclusion:

JUDGE: We the jury find the defendant Kris Zocco guilty of first-degree reckless homicide as charged in count one …

Finally, after five years of waiting and wondering, there is justice for Kelly Dwyer. As for Kris Zocco …

Kris Zocco is escorted from court followng his guilty verdict.

Pool

Joyce Frye: He did look at me when he was being removed.

Peter Van Sant: What did you see?

Joyce Frye: He was devastated.

Peter Van Sant: And what was Kris’ sentence?

Joyce Frye [crying]: Thirty-one years.

Peter Van Sant: Is that on top of the 19 years?

Joyce Frye: Yes.

Sara Hill: Kris Zocco is a person who’s demonstrated that he poses a danger to society … particularly to women. … And someone is dead as a result.

Meet the women who solved Kelly Dwyer’s case

That someone was a vibrant and trusting young woman just beginning to find her way in the world.

Chanell Royston: She was a loving person who … truly cared about people and loved so much that she didn’t really find much fault in anyone.

Sara Hill: There’s this sense of profound loss, loss for her family … Her friends, you see a loss of a light … because of one person’s selfishness … And that’s a tragedy — tragedy is the best word for it.

Kris Zocco will be eligible for release in 2065. He will be 90 years old.

Zocco plans to appeal his homicide conviction.

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biofunmy · 5 years

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How the Yankees Beat the Astros in Game 5 of the A.L.C.S.

Aaron Hicks wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to be ready this soon. He certainly wasn’t supposed to be standing at home plate watching a season-saving home run clank off the right-field foul pole in Game 5 of the American League Championship Series. And he wasn’t supposed to be breathing hope into a Yankee Stadium crowd that was dreading the end.

A month ago, Hicks was sitting on the couch at his home in Arizona after receiving a second opinion about his injured right elbow. The doctor prescribed more rest in hopes of averting a major operation for the center fielder — Tommy John surgery on his throwing elbow. But Hicks’s elbow felt good one day, so he decided to toss a ball around with a friend.

His arm responded well. So Hicks did it again, then sent a video of himself throwing to a surprised Michael Schuk, the Yankees’ assistant athletic trainer. This started a chain of events that ultimately saw Hicks return from what was supposed to be a season-ending injury, make the A.L.C.S. roster, then smash a three-run homer off Justin Verlander on Friday to help extend the Yankees’ season with a 4-1 win over the Houston Astros in the Bronx.

“Good thing I was messing around in the backyard with my buddy and kind of started throwing,” Hicks said after the win, “because if I didn’t do that, I wouldn’t be here.”

Hicks’s blast and James Paxton’s powerful left arm helped the Yankees gain ground on the Astros, who lead the best-of-seven series by three games to two. The Astros are still in control: The series shifts to Minute Maid Park in Houston on Saturday, where the teams will play less than 24 hours after the end of Game 5, and where the Astros produced the best home record in baseball during the regular season.

Both teams said they planned to deploy their bullpens for Game 6. Their remaining starters — the Astros ace Gerrit Cole and the Yankees Luis Severino — have been lined up to pitch Game 7 on regular rest.

That the Yankees were headed to Houston at all was largely due to Paxton and Hicks. In his first season with the Yankees, Paxton emerged as the team’s best starter in the second half of the year. But his first career playoff start, in the previous round against the Minnesota Twins, was unspectacular. His second, in Game 2 of the A.L.C.S., was shaky.

Paxton quickly erased those memories on Friday, using his full arsenal of pitches to carve through the Astros’ potent lineup.

The Yankees started Game 5 the way they ended Game 4 — with sloppy play. The Astros’ George Springer hit a ground ball up the middle that neither Paxton nor second baseman Gleyber Torres could corral. Paxton walked Michael Brantley, and catcher Gary Sanchez was charged with a passed ball and then couldn’t stop a wild pitch, leading to a 1-0 Astros lead when Springer trotted home.

But Paxton quickly brushed off the inauspicious start, holding steady after Hicks helped provide a 4-1 lead in the bottom half of the first inning.

With two outs and one runner on base in the top of the sixth inning — and Paxton’s pitch count at a season-high 111, and Tommy Kahnle warming up in the bullpen — Yankees Manager Aaron Boone visited the mound, looking ready to remove his starter. Paxton voiced his opinion immediately.

“I’m good,” he mouthed to Boone on the mound, then added with more colorful language: “Let’s go.”

Fans roared as Boone walked back to the dugout alone. They held their breath when Robinson Chirinos sent a ball to deep left field and exhaled when Brett Gardner caught it with his back to the wall. In all, Paxton completed the biggest start of his career with one run allowed and nine strikeouts in six innings.

“I was yelling with our crowd, ‘Keep him in,’” reliever Zack Britton said of Boone’s visit to the mound. “And he did.”

After Kahnle sputtered to start the seventh inning, allowing a single and a walk, Boone used the Yankees’ best two relievers of this postseason — Britton and Aroldis Chapman — to get the game’s final eight outs.

Luckily for the Yankees, who had struggled to produce a key hit with runners on base in the previous three games of this series, they pounced on Verlander before he settled into a groove.

The second pitch Verlander threw was a fastball right down the middle of the plate to D.J. LeMahieu, who sent it over the right-field wall for a 1-1 tie. Then came more well-struck balls against Verlander: an Aaron Judge single and a Torres double. After a strikeout by Giancarlo Stanton, who made his return to the lineup after missing three games with a strained right quadriceps, Verlander faced Hicks.

Even though Hicks had not started a major league game since Aug. 2, the Yankees put him on the A.L.C.S. roster, and that proved fortuitous when Stanton sustained his injury last weekend. Hicks went 1 for 5 in Games 3 and 4 but drew four walks, deploying one of his best skills — a sharp eye at the plate — even after so much time away.

So after falling behind Verlander 0-2, Hicks worked a full count. Verlander then threw a slider high and over the plate. Hicks had struggled with breaking balls during the regular season, but he rocketed this mistake 314 feet down the right field line for his first homer since July 24.

“I knew I hit it well,” Hicks said. “I felt like I stayed inside the ball well enough for it to be fair.”

The blast sent Yankee Stadium into a frenzy. Hicks dropped his bat in a manner reminiscent of the Hall of Famer Ken Griffey Jr.: straight to the ground after the follow through. It took Hicks nine seconds to get to first base as he admired his work, which gave his team just a bit more time, at least, in this season.

David Waldstein provided live updates and analysis throughout Game 5:

8th Inning: Britton Stifles the Astros

Nasty, nasty nasty stuff from Zack Britton, who got a weak ground ball from Yuli Gurriel — he can’t buy or borrow a hit in this series — and then struck out Carlos Correa and Yordan Alvarez on breaking balls that had them flailing.

The Yankees can also be encouraged by their defensive play. Gio Urshela made a nice charge, scoop and throw on to nab Gurriel by a step at first base. Stark contrast to last night, when they booted the ball all over the park. Before the game, Boone predicted it, saying: “I’m confident that these guys will flush it and go out and play like they’re capable of tonight.”

Justin Verlander was lifted for Brad Peacock, who got the Yankees in order, so we head to the ninth.

7th Inning: Yankees Turn to Relievers to Close It Out

What a memorable performance by James Paxton, who allowed one run and four hits in six innings and struck out nine. It was the first time in almost a month that Paxton went past the fifth inning. That dates back to his second-to-last start, a win over the Toronto Blue Jays on Sept. 21. In his final start of the season he had nerve irritation in his left glute, and then went 1-1 in his first two postseason starts. This one was particularly good, and it could not have come in a more meaningful moment for the desperate Yankees.

Then in the seventh the Yankees’ bullpen got in and out of trouble with runners on first and second with only one out for Tommy Kahnle. Boone lifted him and went to Zack Britton, who got Michael Brantley to hit into a fielder’s choice. Then, with runners at first and third and two outs, Alex Bregman lined out to Aaron Hicks in center. The Yankees only need six more outs to send this series back to Houston.

And how about Josh Reddick in right field, making a basket catch at the wall for the final out of the inning (after Verlander notched two more strikeouts). This is actually a really impressive performance by Verlander, who has retired 10 in a row and has allowed only one base runner since the four-run first.

6th Inning: Paxton Escapes

Aaron Boone just made the biggest tactical decision of the game, and it paid off — but just barely. James Paxton made it through two outs in the sixth and had the right-handed Robinson Chirinos coming to the plate with Tommy Kahnle warming in the bullpen. Boone came out of the dugout, and with Paxton over 100 pitches, it was assumed by many that he was taking Paxton out. But Boone left him in the game and Chirinos hit a long fly ball to left field. The crowd went quiet for a moment as Brett Gardner ranged back to the wall. But Gardner caught it with about a foot to spare — maybe less — for the final out and the crowd erupted. It was a brave decision, but Paxton was pitching well, and he had struck out Chirinos twice already.

And Verlander has another 1-2-3 inning, striking out Giancarlo Stanton and Aaron Hicks to give him seven on the night. He is doing his job of lasting long enough to preserve the Astros bullpen for what could be a busy Game 6 tomorrow night.

5th Inning: Sign Stealing Still an Issue?

Very interesting stuff from Ken Rosenthal on the FS1 broadcast during the fifth inning. He said A.J. Hinch and Aaron Boone met before the game to talk about the sign-stealing issue, and reported that an unnamed person with the Yankees said they thought the Astros were whistling from the dugout to signal which pitch was coming. Hinch called that “a joke,” and Rosenthal said Hinch and Boone put the matter “to bed” in their discussion.

But he added that all the paranoia has distracted Yankees catcher Gary Sanchez behind the plate, perhaps accounting for all the balls he has let get by the last couple of games. But FS1 just showed a replay of some of them, and on at least one, Sanchez was turning his head away.

Meanwhile, no one seems to know what pitches are coming from Paxton and Verlander, who continue to deal. Verlander has allowed one base runner since the Yankees’ four-run first.

4th Inning: Yankees Plugging Away Against History

Here’s a couple of numbers to show what the Yankees are up against in trying to come back from a 1-3 deficit in a best-of-seven-game series. There have been 86 such postseason series in which a team took a three-games-to-none advantage, and 73 of those teams went on to win the series, or 85 percent. Forty-four of those teams (51 percent) won the series in five games. The last team to do it was the Boston Red Sox — no, not in 2004. In 2007 they came back from 1-3 to beat the Cleveland Indians in the A.L.C.S.

Meanwhile, Paxton strikes out two more Astros for another scoreless inning. He has six K’s and has thrown 76 pitches. Verlander had a third straight scoreless inning and struck out Gary Sanchez, who is now 2 for 19 in the series. Sanchez hears a few boos as he returns to the dugout. A note on Hicks: He was 1 for 17 with 6 strikeouts against in the regular season against Verlander before that home run.

3rd Inning: Starters Finding Their Groove

Suddenly, this game is a pitcher’s duel. Paxton’s pitch count is up to 63 after three innings, but he just tossed a second straight scoreless inning, and benefited from a good defensive play by D.J. LeMahieu, who tracked down a high foul pop-up by Yuli Gurriel for the final out, and fell over while making the tricky catch.

Interesting in-game interview with Astros Manager A.J. Hinch during that frame. He acknowledged that Verlander was indeed over-throwing a bit or, as he called it, “jumping off the rubber a little bit.” Verlander is still pumping in high fastballs above the Yankees’ swing paths — and a few very high ones to bring Robinson Chirinos out of his stance — but he got the Yankees in order again and has now retired eight straight. Stanton made contact for the final out, but hit a harmless ground ball to short. He jogged fairly hard down the line.

2nd Inning: No More Runs, but the Stadium’s Buzzing

Yankee Stadium is alive and this game has an entirely different feel compared to Game 4 on Thursday. But Verlander was able to stabilize himself and get a 1-2-3 inning. One has to assume he went directly into the video room to see what he was doing wrong in that first inning. It appeared to be over-throwing, for the most part.

James Paxton also settled down in the top half of the second inning, and did not allow any balls in play. He gave up a leadoff walk and a base hit to Jake Marisnick, but struck out Yordan Alvarez, Robinson Chirinos and George Springer.

The home plate umpire, Mark Carlson, was also behind the plate in Game 7 of the 2017 A.L.C.S., when the Astros beat the Yankees, 4-0, behind a combined three-hit, 11-strikeout shutout from Charlie Morton and Lance McCullers, Jr. He seems to have a pretty big strike zone tonight.

1st Inning: Yankees Come Out Swinging

It was a dramatic first inning for the Yankees, who scored four times on a pair of home runs. D. J. LeMahieu hit a leadoff shot (the seventh in Yankees postseason history) to even the score at 1-1. That helped erase the bad feelings from the top of the first, which did not go well for the Yankees because of more sloppy play.

But the Yankees poured it on against Justin Verlander, who also gave up a three-run home run to Aaron Hicks on a hanging slider. Hicks ripped it down the line and it hit the foul pole as Aaron Judge and Gleyber Torres scored ahead of him.

The first three Yankees reached base as Verlander did not record an out until he struck out Giancarlo Stanton.

Verlander threw 29 pitches, which is key because Astros Manager A.J. Hinch does not want to have to empty his bullpen tonight.

In the top of the inning James Paxton and Torres failed to field a ground ball off the bat of George Springer, who advanced a base on a passed ball by Gary Sanchez and then scored on a wild pitch. It was not what the Yankees wanted to see after their sloppy showing in Game 4 on Thursday when they committed four errors.

Lineups

Astros

1. George Springer RF

2. Jose Altuve 2B

3. Michael Brantley LF

4. Alex Bregman 3B

5. Yuli Gurriel 1B

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libgds · 5 years

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I have been to three MLB games in my life. Two were White Sox vs. Yankees when I was a kid and what I remember is taking home a kitten we found at a rest stop. His name was Yankee, and he was a good kitty. I know there was a third as part of a school trip in middle or high school, but it made not impression. I do not even remember who I saw. I did know it was not a Cubs game. I was a Wrigley Field virgin and Andy had chosen me to go to the last game of the season against the St. Louis Cardinals.

I knew from all his texts, tweets, and Instagram pics during games (@44_for_tony_wood) that Cubs gear was a must. I brought a red bandana for my hair and my red Converse, then I asked to borrow a shirt. Andy brought down what he described as the first stack in one drawer. I had at least six to choose from and I had the suspicoun that he had enough still in his room to cloth a small village.

Since it was the last home game of the season and rain was in the forecast (plus, why not?), Andy decided we should get a hotel room close to Wrigley. IF there were rain delays, we would not have to worry about catching the train back late. Plus, whether we ended up celebrating or drowning our sorrows we could not have to worry about driving back to Indiana.

The reason this was on the list was that Andy and Tony had attended this game last year. Baseball was a huge bond for them and much of their family. It also marked the end of a season that had started with the Best and Worst Day of Andy’s life. (Seriously, those need capitalization. Fight me, grammar Nazis.) During Spring Training in Mesa, Arizona Andy and Tony rented a place to watch their beloved Cubs kick off the year. Tony lived in California, so these times together were special and both of them are the type of men to suck the marrow out of every moment. The first day, they had a blast and went out on the town. They did not leave anywhere a stranger. Tony declared it the Best Day.

The next morning, Andy found him collapsed on the floor. He had died in the night of a heart attack. Andy then had to take care of arrangements, let his sister-in-law know she is a widow, and tell his mother that she had lost her oldest son only about a year after their father had died. Tony was only 54 years old.

I still do not know how Andy is still standing.

Andy decided to dedicate this year to remembering Tony and sharing his legacy. Tony had a thing for the numbest 44. It’s the number his two sons wore when they each won a State Championship in Football. He liked Tony Rizzo, number 44, on the Cubs. Since Andy was also turning 44 this year, he made a list of 44 places and memories he had of Tony and asked others to experience them with him and listen to Tony’s story and impact.

Andy asked me to complete number 8, the final home game of the Cubs season. The final page of a season that had started with so much joy that in a night turned into a tragedy.

Andy has a solid game day routine. He drives to Chinatown and parks in the fenced lot below the Redline train. He takes it to Wrigley and times his arrival for when they start serving beer at noon. He watches fora bit around left field and then goes an d finds his seats. Maybe he sits there and maybe he goes somewhere better. At eh 7th inning stretch, he dons his beard and records singing with whomever has attended the game with him. At the end of the game, he goes to his favorite haunts in Wrigleyville either to celebrate or complain with the rest of Chicago.

Now the routine was going to be a bit different since we got a hotel It was a boutique hotel called The Wheelhouse Hotel. It was really fun and they embraced the baseball theme in a fun and classy way. More hipster than sports bar. Our room’s mini bar included beef jerky, peanuts, cracker jack, and my favorite, Big League Chew bubble gum. Instead of mints, they left packs of Wrigley Doublemint gum on the pillows.

Now some of my more conservative readers may be thinking, wait a second, an unmarried man and woman in a room together? What exactly are the sleeping arrangements?

No need to clutch your pearls, our room had bunkbeds. No seriously, bunkbeds.

See. I told you.

We had a wonderful lunch on the patio. I had a classic bacon cheeseburger and Andy had a fried bologna sandwich that somehow still managed to look pretentious. Gotta love hipsters.

We headed to the stadium and Andy had a million stories for every nook and cranny of the place. We did laps and he would have a different story each time. When it finally got close to game time, we headed up to stand behind left field. I started to get a bit worried at this point. Normally, when people stand instead of going to their seats it is because where they are standing is better. Well, with my eyesight I could not see the ball at all. It was like watching a weird Youtube video where the object everyone is playing with is photoshopped out. A few times, I thought I heard the ball getting hit, but it turned out the pitch was so hard that I was hearing it hit the catcher’s mitt. Ouch.

After an inning or two, Andy decided to go to our seats. Technically, I guises I should say we went to where we were going to sit. It was a day where it kept spitting rain, the Cubs had put themselves in the position to have to win every game left to go to the Playoffs, and they were plagued with injuries, so we had some choices in where we sat. We ended up under the roof on the first deck on the first base line and hey, I could see the ball! The game is much more interesting when you can see where the ball is. The Cubs led the Cards 2 to 1 as I experienced my first 7th inning stretch at Wrigley.

It was all going fine and dandy until the top of the 9th when the Cubs fell apart. TheCards pulled ahead 2 to 3 and the Cubs only managed a single to end the game. My first Cubs game was the full experience in the Cubs fan tradition of dashed hopes and crushing disappointment. Andy modified his W flag to a WTF flag and flew it for anyone who would look. We learned the sad fact that Wrigley has an “L” flag they fly after a loss. It was a sad day in Wrigleyville.

The rest of our evening were more stories about Tony and other happier Cubs memories. Andy displayed his WTF flag and became a popular model as numerous people asked to take his picture. We went to some of his favorite bars where he managed to have conversations with more than one stranger in each place. This was the most uncomfortable part of the trip for me. More uncomfortable than the bike ride. Andy thrives on attention, and I prefer invisibility. He is the life of the party, while I am the ninja who hides in the shadows and occasionally throws in a devastating one liner. Loud bars are not my ideal environment.

However, we kept changing locations and not staying long because even Andy had trouble finding his niche because so many of the Cubs fans had just gone home to cry in their beers.

Finally, we hit upon a spot where we both could shine. Old Crow Smokehouse is a large place and we ordered appetizers. Andy struck up a conversation via his flag with a couple sitting next to us. We were all about the same age and they quickly learned that Andy can be full of crap. He likes to make up tall tales to see how far he can go before they wise up. That then made me their de facto BS meter. If they were not sure whether to believe him, they would look to me for confirmation. Andy told them Tony’s story and after that, we all sat together and had a great conversation. Johanna and Chris are engaged and living in Phoenix. Andy even got what sounds like a sincere invitation to a Spring Training Game. We were kicked out around 9 or 10 for last call because the Sunday hours were based on how many were in the bar and the four of us were about it.

We did one last round of Wrigleyville to hit the memories we missed durning one of the small rainfalls. This time we made it to Murphy’s Bleachers which was one of the places that was around before the business boom after the World Series win.

Five minutes in, we walked by an almost fight. This was decidedly not my scene. We finally headed back to the Wheelhouse. I was surprised how much of Wrigleyville had rolled up the sidewalks and it was only 10:30, but that’s OK. It had been a packed day full of every emotion.

It had been a full day…and of course I had to take the top bunk. Why end the nostalgia tour now?

Monday will not be getting its own post. We asked the concierge if there was anything open for breakfast. He directed us to a place a half mile away.

We had a quiet walk… to a closed restaurant. We settled on bagels then headed back to the hotel, then Indiana and the real world.

Now go tell someone you love them.

44_for_tony_wood I have been to three MLB games in my life. Two were White Sox vs. Yankees when I was a kid and what I remember is taking home a kitten we found at a rest stop.

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marilynngmesalo · 6 years

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Canadian James Paxton traded to Yankees by Mariners for prospects

Canadian James Paxton traded to Yankees by Mariners for prospects Canadian James Paxton traded to Yankees by Mariners for prospects https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

NEW YORK — James Paxton spent the first two months of the 2016 season in the minor leagues after an awful spring training caused his demotion.

When he returned to the majors, he quickly emerged as the Mariners’ ace, and now the Yankees hope he can bolster the thin rotation that contributed to New York’s loss to Boston in the AL Division Series. New York acquired the 30-year-old left-hander from the rebuilding Seattle Mariners on Monday for top prospect Justus Sheffield and two other minor leaguers.

“I think I’ll be a great fit. They seem very committed to winning, and so am I,” Paxton said.

New York sent the left-handed Sheffield to the Mariners along with right-hander Erik Swanson and outfielder Dom Thompson-Williams.

Paxton turned 30 on Nov. 6 and went 11-6 with a 3.76 ERA in 28 starts last season, including a 16-strikeout start against Oakland on May 2 and a no-hitter at Toronto six days later. He struck out 208 and walked 42 in a career-high 160 1/3 innings, allowing 23 home runs.

Paxton, from Ladner, B.C., is 41-26 in six major league seasons, making six trips to the disabled list in the last five years. He missed nearly four months with a strained left latissimus dorsi muscle in 2014, 3 1/2 months with a strained tendon in left middle finger in 2015, 10 days with a bruised left elbow in 2016, 3 1/2 weeks with a strained left forearm and a month with a strained left pectoral muscle in 2017, and 2 1/2 weeks with lower back inflammation this year.

“I continue to try to work towards being healthy for an entire season,” he said. “All the injuries that I’ve had haven’t reoccurred. I’ve learned how to make sure those things don’t happen again through exercise or whatever.”

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When he went to triple-A two years ago, he worked with former big league pitcher Lance Painter, who told him to drop his arm angle back to three-quarters. When Paxton returned to the Mariners, he studied reading swings with pitching coach Mel Stottlemyre Jr.

“It’s taken me a little longer I think in my career because I have had so much time off,” Paxton said. “But having those larger chunks the last couple years has really allowed me to come into my own and really make some big strides, and I look forward to continuing to make big strides in my game. And I think that my best baseball is still to come.”

A proud Canadian, Paxton is also known for keeping his composure as a bald eagle mistakenly landed on his shoulder prior to a start at Minnesota in April.

He joins a rotation projected to include right-handers Luis Severino and Masahiro Tanaka and left-hander CC Sabathia. General manager Brian Cashman wants to add at least one more starter, address the shortstop opening created by Didi Gregorius’ elbow surgery and add to his bullpen.

Paxton made $4.9 million last season and is eligible for salary arbitration. He can become a free agent after the 2020 season.

In his one game at Yankee Stadium, Paxton entered with a 10-start unbeaten streak and allowed two-run homers to Aaron Judge and Miguel Andujar in the first inning of a 4-3 loss on June 21 this year.

Seattle decided to rebuild after going 89-73 and finishing third in the AL West, 14 games behind division-winning Houston and six back of Oakland.

“Clearly we’ve opted 2019 be a year that we take a step back hoping to take two forward,” general manager Jerry Dipoto said. “When I say 2020 and 2021, it’s simply gauging the ages of the players we’re building around here.”

Sheffield is rated among the top minor league prospects, made his big league debut in September and pitched in three games for the Yankees. He had a 2.48 ERA in 25 minor league appearances at double-A and triple-A this year, striking out 123 in 116 innings and allowing just four home runs.

Sheffield had just finished playing golf when he saw Cashman’s number on his cellphone.

“Definitely caught me by surprise,” Sheffield said.

Sheffield won’t turn 23 until May and could become a future anchor to Seattle’s rotation.

Swanson, 25, started the year at double-A Trenton but spent most of 2018 at the triple-A level with Scranton/Wilkes-Barre, where he made 13 starts and had a 3.86 ERA. Swanson had 78 strikeouts and 14 walks in 72 1/3 innings in triple-A. He pitched 121 2/3 total innings last season overall and was rated among the top 25 prospects in the Yankees organization by MLB.com.

“I think both of them are going to compete for a spot in the rotation,” Dipoto said. “We absolutely expect to see both guys before the summer is through in Seattle and they will start cutting their teeth here and hopefully set us up for what we think will be a pretty exciting group as we enter 2020 and 2021.”

Thompson-Williams, 23, has never played above single-A and will turn 24 next April. He had 22 home runs, 20 stolen bases and a .299 average across two single-A affiliates this year.

Cashman is aggressively pursuing pitching from outside the organization, even after Sonny Gray flamed out during 1 1/3 seasons with New York, shaken by repeated booing at Yankee Stadium.

“I can’t tell you we’ve learned anything further other than we drill down as much as we can, whether with players that have played with somebody as teammates that we know or coaches who have coached or people who have managed or anybody, whether it’s all the way back in the amateur ranks,” Cashman said.

“We just try to ask a lot of questions about how they compete. This environment can bring out a different experience for some. So I don’t have a new secret formula to address predictability on who will thrive and survive and who won’t here in New York.”

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flauntpage · 6 years

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Dallas Week: Why Supporting the Cowboys Probably Makes You a Poser (Part 2)

Note: I wrote this column last year and decided to tweak it, update it, and publish a new version for 2018.

………………………………

We all know one of these guys:

“Born and raised in Marlton! But I’m a lifelong Cowboys fan because my dad knew Nate Newton’s cousin.”

“Love the star on the helmet! I used to watch Roger Staubach on television back in 1974.”

“Well I grew up in Iowa, but we didn’t have a team, so I picked the Cowboys.”

These are all valid reasons to be a Dallas fan, according to Dallas fans. None of them involve being from Texas or ever having visited. “America’s Team” welcomes all front-runners and fakes.

This topic comes up every season. Eagles vs. Cowboys. It’s Dallas week on sports talk radio and disgusting locals crawl out their garbage pits to explain how they grew up in Northeast Philadelphia but support a 3-5 football team that hasn’t won diddly poo since the 1990s and is now being run into the ground by an owner who clings to the past and holds nobody accountable. The Cowboys “ain’t been nothing” for years, as Stephen A Smith recently said, yet you still have all of these bandwagon jabronies clinging to Dallas as if Troy Aikman is still out there slinging the ball around.

Philly is old-school and parochial. You grow up here, you support Philly teams. Eagles games are a family affair. You build memories through tangible experiences, like actually physically being inside of Veterans Stadium or meeting your favorite player after the game. You understand the city’s blue collar, non-cosmopolitan roots and why sport is a common thread. The third-shift factory worker who I saw puking outside of Les and Doreen’s in Fishtown last week might not have much in common with Rand Spear, the accident lawyer, but both were probably standing somewhere on Broad Street nine months ago, watching the Birds’ celebrate their first Super Bowl win.

The reasons really aren’t important. It just is how it is. You probably know someone who has vacationed in Sea Isle City for 35 years. It’s not necessarily that they dislike Stone Harbor, they just go to Sea Isle because that’s where they’ve always gone. They’re comfortable and familiar with it, and they don’t see a need to change anything. This intrinsically Philadelphian behavior can be both good and bad, because we’re loyal and committed while not exactly diving head-first into new experiences or getting out to see the rest of the world.

I’d honestly say it’s less about how “legitimate” our fandom is. It’s more about how fraudulent others are.

If you grew up here, you don’t have an emotional or geographical link to the Cowboys, the Yankees, or Notre Dame. You just don’t. And don’t tell me that you supported the Irish because you’re an Irish Catholic; you supported them because they won football games and they were always on national television. Are Pennsylvania Methodists beaming with SMU pride? Didn’t think so.

Can you develop a connection to a foreign team over time? I don’t know. I guess. If your favorite college player of all time is drafted by the Raiders, maybe you add Oakland as a second team. I went to high school with Jimmy Develin, who won a couple of Super Bowls with the Patriots, so I was at least pulling for him to be successful even if I didn’t want the hoodie to lay his grimy hands on another Lombardi Trophy.

Likewise, you can watch the Los Angeles Lakers on NBA League Pass and share video clips on Reddit and photoshop a Twitter avatar that looks something like this:

“I’m a lifelong fan of all four teams! I’m not a front-runner! I swear!”

You can follow the Lakers in a way that older generations weren’t able to. But you’re not really a fan. You’re not from Southern California and you probably didn’t tune in when the ’04-’05 squad was ripping off 34 wins with Brian Grant and Chucky Atkins. You got back on board when Pau Gasol showed up, like the Cowboy fan who, of course, felt drawn to the team that just so happened to win a bunch of Super Bowls.

The pretenses of your fandom are fake, and Philadelphia knows it. That’s what’s important here. It’s not your fandom itself, it’s the genesis of it.

One of the things that’s even more telling is that Texas natives come across as solid sports fans. I was down in Austin last week for the UT/West Virginia game, and Longhorn fans had to be some of the nicest people I’ve ever been around.

Seriously.

Walking in and out of the stadium, it was a lot of, “hope y’all enjoy the game.” No hostility, no bullshit, nothing. Most of the UT folks we talked to also doubled as Cowboy fans, a good chunk from the Dallas-Fort Worth area, and they were really knowledgeable about their pro team. A lot of them expressed disappointment with the way Jerry Jones and Jason Garrett are driving their squad into irrelevance after winning that batch of championships back in the day.

If anything, the Texas trip I guess confirmed what I already knew – that the problem with the Dallas fan base isn’t people from Dallas, it’s the morons from New York, Philadelphia, Des Moines, and everywhere else. It’s the people who don’t have any connection to Dallas who are in denial about the status of “their team.” It’s not the Texas people, because they were polite and friendly and knew their football.

There’s a third angle here, and it’s something that I argue with soccer people all the time, but it also applies to the “four for four” sports. It’s the fallacy that you have to pick a team in the first place.

For example, the English Premier League. What team do I support? There were a bunch of articles that were written 10 years ago to help new fans decide what club to get behind. You could go with Tottenham, or Chelsea, or even Arsenal if you hated yourself.

But just like the Cowboy fan who has never been to Texas, how many Premier League fans have ever been to Manchester? Not many. I like watching the foreign game as a neutral and enjoying it that way. I don’t relate to the guy who walks around Center City with a Manchester City shirt, unless dude is actually from England and watched that club when they were utter shite, long before Sheikh Mansour showed up and started throwing millions of dollars at the best players in the world.

And if we’re on the topic of geo-shaming here, how do I explain the fandom of a guy who grew up in Chadron, Nebraska? Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe he can pick a team. But isn’t it ironic how those types of people always end up settling on the very best? Nobody ever says, “hmm.. I think I’m gonna get behind the Carolina Hurricanes.” Nah, they all become “lifelong” Yankee fans at age 19.

The line of rebuttal usually goes something like this –

“Who does this guy think he is? Who the fuck is Kinkead to tell me who I can and can’t support?”

Well, I’m not really dictating here. You can support whomever you want to support, but the vast majority of Philadelphians and gonna roll their eyes and brand you as a fraud, because the pretenses of your fandom are flimsy.

Here’s a typical example of how things work in this area:

Say you grew up in… I dunno, Secane Pennsylvania, near that pizza place. You probably watched the Eagles, Phillies, Flyers, and Sixers with your family. At age 18, maybe you leave for college down in Richmond, so now you support Spider football and basketball.

That’s pretty much what you are. That’s your fandom. You’re a Philly-area native with no connection to the Chicago Cubs, Duke, Alabama football, or Fulham.

Actually, that last one is interesting. Fulham… you know, they had a bunch of Americans playing over there. That was always intriguing, and I kept an eye on Fulham, but I didn’t feel the need to become a Fulham “supporter.”

Similarly, Philadelphia loves Mike Trout but are we Angel fans? Nah. I never understood why people felt like they had to “support” a team to enjoy watching sports. Trust me, the less emotion you put into football, the easier it is to get over losing 13-9 to Shady McCoy and Dave fucking Wannstedt.

So let’s be real; if you’re a Cowboys fan who grew up in Philadelphia, you’re a poseur. You aren’t from Texas. You probably have never been to Texas. You didn’t pay any dues or stick with your team while they were dog shit, you just hopped on the bandwagon because they won three Super Bowls more than 20 years ago.

The ultimate irony is that it’s now becoming harder and harder to call these people “front-runners,” since Dallas has been utterly mediocre for the better part of two whole decades. But even if younger folks might not be jumping on the Cowboy bandwagon, I still have utter contempt for all of you cockroaches that slithered your way into that “fan base” back in the day.

The post Dallas Week: Why Supporting the Cowboys Probably Makes You a Poser (Part 2) appeared first on Crossing Broad.

Dallas Week: Why Supporting the Cowboys Probably Makes You a Poser (Part 2) published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/

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365footballorg-blog · 6 years

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Warshaw: Winners and Losers from a Decision Day that did not disappoint

USA Today Sports Images

October 29, 20181:09PM EDT

The Audi 2018 MLS Cup Playoffs may be ahead, but there were already plenty of winners and losers after the regular season concluded on Sunday, the 2018 edition of MLS Decision Day presented by AT&T. Here’s a look at who gained and lost the most

The Clear Winners

RBNY Duh. The Red Bulls lifted a trophy (props to whoever decided to whip this shield out). New York’s 1-0 win over Orlando paired with Atlanta’s loss to net a third Shield in six years. RBNY also set the record for most points in a single season.

Yo @ChrisEvans, these guys got your shield. pic.twitter.com/Ec5b6lHzgF

— COPA90 US (@COPA90US) October 29, 2018

A question for the super MLS dorky: Does three Shields in six years count as a dynasty? My gut reaction says no. But if they were MLS Cups, the answer would be yes. Should it be a different answer for the Shield? Isn’t the Shield harder to win?

Big Winners

REAL SALT LAKE What a night they must have had. RSL had to watch from home as the Galaxy carve up Houston in the first half en route to a 2-0 lead. Then Houston pulled a goal back, and it was surely just a tease … no way Galaxy could cough this up, right? Then Houston get another to tie … but it’s Zlatan on the other end, and this has storybook LA ending written all over it, right? Then Houston scored a third and Mike Petke must have lost his *&^% as RSL snuck into the six spot in the West.

Lozz Angelez https://t.co/uyvUDfFNmc

— Real Salt Lake (@realsaltlake) October 28, 2018

The folks in Utah gotta send the Dynamo something, right? What’s the proper gift for such an occasion? Nobody actually wants a fruit basket. Flowers could be funny; I’d watch a GIF of Alberth Elis opening a box of roses.

We better see a ‘gram from Houston showing off an arrival from RSL this week.

Winning

SPORTING KC The good news: The 2-1 win over LAFC ensures Sporting skip the elimination game. After losing four straight first-round games, they can sleep a little easier this week. They also got the game winner after going down a man.

The bad news: Seth Sinovic got the red card and Sporting have struggled without Sinovic on the field this year. In Sinovic’s 18 starts prior to Sunday, Sporting were 11-3-4; in the remaining games, they were 6-5-4. To make matters worse, their reserve left backs — Cristian Lobato, Jimmy Medranda, and Jaylin Lindsey — are all unavailable right now. Sporting can either call Lindsey back from U-20 national team duty, or move Yohan Croizet to left back for next weekend’s playoff game (or maybe move Matt Besler there?).

SEATTLE With the win over San Jose, the Sounders finish as the No. 2 seed in the West. Yeah, crazy, huh?

Best I can tell, Raul Ruidiaz is the fastest Sounder to 10 goals. Took him 14 games. Dempsey, I think, had the record with 19. Montero took 20 games. Oba was 24.

— Jeremiah Oshan (@JeremiahOshan) October 29, 2018

I stick to my comments that the Sounders weren’t yet good through the early parts of their win streak. But they are good now. They spun the confidence into a reliable playing style revolving around sharp passing, fluid attacking movement, and dominating dangerous space near their box. The No. 2 seed is a fair finish for them. They are one of the top-two teams in the West.

CREW SC They won; they’re in; Gyasi Zardes bagged a hat trick. Once upon a time they would have been bummed to have to travel for the elimination game, but they can’t dwell on that. They get the five-seed and will travel to D.C. for the elimination game.

D.C. UNITED A draw was enough to move into fourth and earn D.C. a home game. They’re 12-2-1 at home since christening Audi Field.

NYCFC They might have gotten their mojo back in the 3-1 win over Philadelphia. Or, at least they got their starters back, who brought the mojo with them. Yangel Herrera, Maxi Moralez, Jesus Medina, and Ismael Tajouri-Shradi all returned to the starting lineup, and we saw what would probably be Dome Torrent’s first-choice group for the first time since the manager took over the team. The win means NYC get the elimination game at Yankee Stadium, where they are 12-1-14 in 2018.

The Clear Losers

LA GALAZY I still can’t believe that happened. Winning 2-0 at half in a home game against a team that’s been eliminated for a month and then … Splat.

Actually, yes I can. The Galaxy had been better recently, but they still weren’t playing like a playoff team, especially defensively. In preparation for our studio shows, our producers asked me to put together film on how the Galaxy had improved defensively. I couldn’t do it. I went back through their last four games and couldn’t find a single clip when they showed solid team shape. They weren’t making the elementary mistakes that they had been making, which elevated their level by default, but they still allowed plenty of gaps between their lines, and someone was bound to exploit them at some point.

Big Losers

ATLUTD Matt came in hard on Atlanta for their disappointing 4-1 defeat to Toronto.

They got drilled 4-1 on the final day of the season w/ a trophy on the line. That’s a collapse. #TFCvATL https://t.co/yrlf0hWzER

— Matthew Doyle (@MattDoyle76) October 28, 2018

I see where he’s coming from, but I disagree; I wouldn’t call it a collapse. Atlanta won 5-of-7, and 9-of-13. The two most recent losses were at the Red Bulls and at Toronto (The Reds have had a bad year, but they still have the ability to be very good). There’s nothing embarrassing about any of that. It just so happens that Red Bulls also won 9-of-13, but happened to draw instead of lose in the other couple.

That said, this has gotta hurt. Atlanta were the best team for most of the year, and it felt like a matter of time until they would hoist their first trophy. Now everything’s falling apart: Tata’s leaving soon; Miguel Almiron’s hurt; the midfield looks unable to control a game. Atlanta didn’t just lose a game and a trophy on Sunday – they looked far from being a team that could win three straight tough playoff series.

MONTREAL IMPACT So close yet so far. They gave themselves a chance heading into Decision Day, but the 1-0 loss to New England ended their hopes. The Impact held on longer than anyone expected. Mais c’est fini, as they say.

Losing

PHILADELPHIA The loss itself wasn’t that bad. The way they lost, though …

The Union looked like the worst version of themselves at Yankee Stadium on Sunday; the tight dimensions of the field hindered their ability to pass. The Union’s entire gameplan, both offensively and defensively, depends upon their ability to move the ball in a controlled manner. Philly have worked hard to build a playing style, but Yankee Stadium might be the toughest place to execute it. Sunday’s loss means they fall to sixth … and will play in Yankee Stadium. Again. On Wednesday.

LAFC It’s harsh to call LAFC “losers” on the night; they lost on the road to the top team in the conference. Unfortunately, though, they also fell out of the top two and must now play an elimination game.

Of note, head coach Bob Bradley reinserted Eduard Atuesta into the lineup. Benny Feilhaber and Lee Nguyen played with Atuesta in the middle and Carlos Vela started on the right. I understand why Bradley wants Atuesta on the field — Atuesta can offer more defensive stability — but LAFC look better to my eyes when Vela plays centrally. The spacing with a triangle of Feilhaber-Nguyen-Vela makes for more fluid ball movement than Atuesta-Feilhaber-Nguyen with Vela tucking central. That’s something to watch during their midweek elimination game against RSL.

Series:

Topics:

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thegloober · 6 years

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A Lost Year for Jordan Montgomery [2018 Season Review]

Sorting through possible trade partners for Sonny Gray

(Elsa/Getty)

Among the best developments in Yankeeland last season was Jordan Montgomery showing he’s a viable big league starting pitcher. He went to Spring Training as a non-roster invitee and beat out 40-man roster players like Luis Cessa and Bryan Mitchell for the fifth starter’s job. Montgomery threw 155.1 innings with a 3.88 ERA (4.07 FIP) last year and was the best rookie pitcher in baseball by fWAR.

This season the hope was Montgomery would plow forward with his development while providing quality innings every fifth day. Does he have the tools to be an ace? No, not really. But pitchers don’t have to have ace potential to be useful, especially when they’re young and cheap. For years the Yanks had no success developing cheap back of the rotation starters. Now they had one in Montgomery and it was exciting.

Rather than move forward with his development, Montgomery was hit by the injury bug this summer, and eventually needed Tommy John surgery. He made six starts and threw 27.1 innings with a 3.62 ERA (4.22 FIP) before his elbow gave out. Montgomery’s season ended on May 1st. Baseball can be a real jerk sometimes. Let’s dig into Montgomery’s unfortunately abbreviated sophomore season.

Five Solid Starts

Montgomery made six starts in 2018 but it was really only five starts. He exited his sixth start after one inning with his elbow injury. It was a seven-pitch 1-2-3 first inning against George Springer, Jose Altuve, and Carlos Correa. That was it. Walking off the field after that first inning in Houston was the last time we saw Montgomery on the field this season.

Coming into the season, Montgomery did not have to compete for a rotation spot. The Yankees and Aaron Boone were very open about having their five starters picked out (Montgomery, Sonny Gray, CC Sabathia, Luis Severino, Masahiro Tanaka) going into Spring Training. There was no rigged fifth starter’s competition or anything. The job was Montgomery’s. As it should’ve been.

“I viewed it as he was a front-runner for that spot,” said Boone in March. “We are really excited, not only about the year he put together last year but where we think he will continue to go. When I look at him I look at him as one of our starters.”

The schedule did not allow the Yankees to skip their fifth starter early in the season, so Montgomery started the fifth game of the year, and it happened to be the home opener. The home opener was of course snowed out, originally. Rather than use the snowout to skip Montgomery, the Yankees stayed on turn, and the next day Montgomery allowed one run in five innings against the Rays in the first game at Yankee Stadium in 2018.

In his five real starts before the injury, Montgomery only had one clunker, when he allowed four runs on eleven hits and a walk in 4.1 innings against the Orioles in his second start. Ouch. A quality start against the Tigers followed, then, in his fourth start, Montgomery had his best outing of his abbreviated year, throwing six innings of one run ball against the Blue Jays on April 21st.

As you can see in the video, Montgomery was dancing in and out of danger all afternoon, which is sorta his thing. He put up a better than average 79.3% strand rate this year thanks to a .208/.309/.354 (.296 wOBA) line with men on base and .130/.231/.130 (.181 wOBA) with runners in scoring position. Jams are inevitable and being able to escape them is cool, but it’d be down with seeing fewer of them going forward. (Montgomery put 37 runners on base in 26.1 innings in his five real starts. Eh.)

The Yankees had their starters on a very short leash early in the season as they controlled workloads, and Montgomery’s pitch count in his five starts was built up gradually: 80, 86, 91, 91, 98. That was not a Montgomery thing. It was an everyone thing. The Yankees did not let a starter throw 100 pitches until April 22nd, in the 20th game of the season. They did all they can to protect their arms. Teams do all they can to keep guys healthy and sometimes they still get hurt. That’s baseball.

Montgomery finished with a 3.62 ERA (4.22 FIP) in 27.1 innings with a strikeout rate that was down from last year (22.2% vs. 19.8%) and a walk rate that up from last year (7.9% to 10.3%). It’s difficult to know how much of that is sample size noise and how much of that can be attributed to the injury. Elbow woes do tend to lead to control problems, which could explain the increase in walk rate. That said, the plate discipline numbers real quick:

2017 Zone Rate: 42.8% 2018 Zone Rate: 43.1%

2018 Chase Rate: 35.2% 2018 Chase Rate: 34.1%

Montgomery’s zone and chase rates this year were essentially the same as last year. Within the bounds of normal fluctuation, especially given how few innings Montgomery threw this year. His average fastball velocity was down from last April (92.1 mph vs. 90.9 mph) which was a red flag, though it was very cold this April and Montgomery was coming off the biggest workload of his career. Losing a mile-an-hour was a red flag but alarm bells had not sounded.

Sometimes injuries just happen. Sometimes the biggest and strongest dudes with clean health records get hurt. The Yankees really eased up on Montgomery in the second half last season (remember Jaime Garcia getting all those starts?) and his workload increase wasn’t that extreme. Montgomery threw 163.1 innings last year. His previous career high was 152 innings in 2016. Minor league innings are not big league innings, but that’s not an insane jump. Anyway, here’s the timeline of Montgomery’s injury:

May 1st: Exited his start with what was initially called elbow tightness.

May 2nd: Initial diagnosis is a flexor strain with a 6-8 week recovery timetable.

May 26th: Montgomery starts playing catch.

June 5th: Yankees announce Montgomery needs Tommy John surgery.

I wouldn’t call going from a flexor strain to Tommy John surgery common but it does happen. It happened to Joba Chamberlain back in the day. It happened with Jason Vargas a few years ago. Johnny Cueto had a flexor strain late last year, dealt with more elbow problems this year, and then had Tommy John surgery after trying to pitch through it. I don’t think Montgomery or the Yankees did anything wrong here. Pitchers break. It’s what they do.

Another Year, Another Tommy John Surgery

For the Yankees, that is. Not Montgomery. This is his first real arm injury. He never missed a start in college or pro ball before his elbow gave out this year. The Yankees, on the other hand, have now had a starting pitcher undergo Tommy John surgery in each of the last five seasons. The list:

2018: Jordan Montgomery (June)

2017: Michael Pineda (July)

2016: Nathan Eovaldi (August)

2015: Chase Whitley (May)

2014: Ivan Nova (April)

Okay, we’re pushing it with Whitley since he wasn’t in the Opening Day rotation, but he did make four starts before needing Tommy John surgery in 2015. Five years, five starters going down with Tommy John surgery. Approximately 26% of big league pitchers have had elbow reconstruction at some point. Losing a starter a year to Tommy John surgery is kinda par for the course. That doesn’t make it easier to swallow when it happens.

What’s Next?

More rehab. There haven’t been any updates on Montgomery’s progress since his surgery, which isn’t terribly uncommon for a non-star player in the early months of Tommy John surgery rehab. Not a whole lot happens in the first few months after elbow reconstruction. Montgomery had his surgery on June 7th and he should start throwing soon if he hasn’t already. It’s a long throwing program. Usually four or five months on flat ground before getting back up on a mound.

“I just show up every day and do what they tell me what to do. I have the same shoulder workouts every day. I run a mile. I put my arm in heat, then an arm bike and then do shoulder workouts,” said Montgomery to Randy Miller in late-August. “I’m probably getting close to being able to play catch, another month or so. That usually happens after four or five months. I’ll do it at home (in South Carolina). They have me set up with a therapist in Charleston.”

I’m not going lie, I am a bit worried about Montgomery post-surgery. He is the kind good-not-great stuff guy who has the most to lose after Tommy John surgery. A little velocity loss or reduced bite on the breaking ball could push Montgomery from rotation option to fringe big leaguer. Montgomery’s good! But his margin of error was never big to begin with, and if he loses a little something due to surgery, it’ll change his long-term outlook. It is what it is. Sucks.

For now, Montgomery is continuing to rehab and he’s not expected back until the middle of next season. These days the typical Tommy John surgery rehab timetable is 14-16 months rather than 12-14 months. Teams have slowed the process down after there was a sudden rash of pitchers needing a second Tommy John surgery a few years ago. Montgomery is expected back at some point next year but the Yankees can’t pencil him in for anything, obviously. He might not be back to his pre-surgery self until 2020. Whatever he gives them next year is a bonus.

“I’ll be throwing bullpens in Spring Training probably and I’ll probably be back pitching in games before the All-Star break,” Montgomery added while talking to Miller. “I’ll be back next year. I’ll be the knight in shining armor in the second half.”

Sorting through possible trade partners for Sonny Gray

Source: https://bloghyped.com/a-lost-year-for-jordan-montgomery-2018-season-review/

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