The Orioles are in town.

 

NSG: Do you think I look like Scott Erickson? 

M: <makes a face> No. 

NSG: Come on, a little? 

M: No. 

NSG: I look a little like Scott Erickson. I’m old; I can say that. … I think my ex-wife and Tim are the only people who care that the Orioles are in town. Should I call her up, see if she wants to come to the game? See if she wants tickets? ... I think she’s got a new man. I was driving by the other night to see the dogs, and there was someone there. But I don’t care about her. I just care about the dogs. ... That’s not true. ... I’d just like to see the dogs again before they die. Or before I move to Nashville. ... When are you moving back to North Carolina? 

M: I don’t know. When I can’t take it anymore. 

NSG: I might go with you, so just let me know. ... What’s your favorite city in North Carolina? Besides Chapel Hill.

"NSG had a fender-bender today," [Roommate] says. "And he’s having a bad day." He was on his way to a lunch date and got hit. And the cop came over to him, and he thought he was going to get cited for not signaling or something, but instead the cop told him that the guy who hit him said NSG had cut him off. NSG said he didn’t think he did; he thought he was in the right lane, but the cop and the other guy said he wasn’t. NSG says he didn’t get a ticket and shrugs, because he doesn’t remember cutting the guy off, but he seems to accept that he did.

NSG: At least I wasn’t drinking. 

M: Don’t do that. 

NSG: That could happen...at noon. 

 

NSG: Some guy called me the other day, and I had to listen to this, and it was this guy complaining about how they were referring to the Golden Sombrero. He said it was racist, since there’s no way they would ever call it the Golden Afro. 

M: Is there one for if you strike out five times? 

NSG: No. ... The Golden Afro.

 

Meanwhile, [starting pitcher] is giving up three runs in the fourth inning. NSG decides to pull out his [manager] impression, which is bang-on and funny as hell.

NSG: You know he’s sitting in the dugout doing this right now. <He does that thing that [manager] does where he angles his head and sticks out his lip. I laugh and laugh and laugh.> You liked that, huh? 

M: <still can’t stop laughing> Yeah...that was good. 

NSG: I know him. ... He called me today and asked for the hitters for the Tampa Bay series. He wanted to know where they are. And I said, "They’re down there. They’re in the clubhouse with everything else." And he said, "Oh, okay, but are you sure? The Tampa Bay hitters?" And I kept thinking he was talking about Baltimore, and he even said it again, and then I finally realized, and I said – because he always takes things one day at a time; he doesn’t like to look ahead – I said, "Skipper, I’m trying to take it one game at a time." Oh, he laughed.

 

NSG checks his email on [Friend]’s computer and starts playing footsie with me. I look over at him; he grins without taking his eyes off the screen. 

NSG: I almost met the Dixie Chicks. On Saturday. They were in the dugout meeting Sammy. That game, that was the best game I’ve ever been to, in person. Can I just hit you really hard? [My niece] asks me that. 

M: Do you let her? 

NSG: God no! She’d hurt me. She’d pummel me. Are you kidding? 

Brad Ausmus comes to the plate. 

NSG: How can you make $5 million and be THAT bad? 

M: He’s not really THAT bad, is he? 

NSG: <yelling> .198, Molly! He’s hitting .198! 

M: <shrugs> 

NSG: Women have it easier. It’s easier for them. 

M: Why do you think that? 

NSG: I don’t. I was just trying to bother you. 

 

NSG: <rummaging around in his bag> We’ve got to think about this. 

M: <doesn’t respond...I figured he’d keep going, and I didn’t know if I was supposed to respond, anyway> 

NSG: "What do we have to think about, NSG?" Well, Molly, we have to figure out when I’m gonna take you to dinner. 

M: Okay... When are you gonna take me to dinner? 

NSG: <looks at the schedule> How about June 16th? 

M: It’d have to be late. I’m flying in at like 7:30. 

NSG: <makes a face> Okay, then. ... How about the 26th? 

M: That’s fine. 

NSG: Okay, good. 

 

The game ends. Astros win. NSG packs up his stuff and rushes back to the office. But before he leaves, he says, "Thanks Molly. ... I love you. ... But you already knew that I love you."