Bronx, N.Y., May 31, 2002 — I didn’t take meteorology in school, so I can’t back that up with any textbook facts. And neither weather conditions nor that part of the country have been the subject of much of my reading, so no casual research can be cited to back up my theory.

But I like to consider myself a very good, perhaps exceptional, fan. And if it rains in Cleveland, I can’t touch Charley Lupica.

One of the things I like to do when attending (even watching or listening to, actually) a game is to check what has happened in the past on that day, particularly as it relates to baseball. And 53 years ago today (the year, but not the day, of my birth, as a matter of fact) Cleveland Indians fan Charley Lupica began a stay on a four-foot-square platform atop a 60-foot pole, vowing to stay there until his beloved Tribe won the pennant. I won’t say Charley failed in his quest, but I can tell you two things: he climbed down from his perch 117 days later, and on the way to one of their 26 World Championships, the New York Yankees won the 1949 American League Pennant.

It was actually a very good game this evening, and only the tiniest fraction of all the almost-playoff buzz was washed off in the first deluge that struck a few minutes after seven, just when the game should have been starting. Both guys pitched gems, and Boomer comes up the loser, first because the team that leads major league baseball in being struck out whiffed only once against Lowe, but it was in combination with the first of three double plays. Our golden chance with Alfonso at third with no one out in the first went for naught. The second reason Boomer lost was the wild pitch he uncorked to Offerman (and finally I understand why runs scoring on wild pitches are earned, while those resulting from passed balls aren’t). The third reason is that Bernie (who took that fateful called strike three) played Nomar’s sixth-inning shot into a triple, but I’m not going to quibble with a guy who has brought us all the joy and success that Bernie has.

A number of quirky things went on in a Stadium struggling to show us a game in “rainforest” weather. Those who think that Alberto Castillo doesn’t do enough, well, he played long toss with Bernie as players warmed after the delay (Bernie usually plays with Rondell, who sat out, at least initially). And Derek, who usually throws with Alfonso, had to find Jorge, as Alfonso was warming his legs (as he would begin the resumed game on second base). My favorite foul ball of the game was going to be the one that shot off Varitek’s bat in the sixth, and landed in the first of two cameraman boxes that hang from the loge on the first base side. It was edged out, however, by the second foul off Robin Ventura’s bat in the ninth, that was caught by a lanky kid with a glove who was sitting in Box 626, seat A12. He had to stretch his arm and glove to grab it, and it was good to see on a night where no fan in the stands seemed capable of catching a foul ball all night.

And yes, I know, it was an ugly eighth, and Mikey was treated rudely (but if you ask me he would have been fine if he hadn’t walked Jose Offerman after having him down 0-1 and 1-2 in the count.) The Red Sox played excellent defense, while ours was only OK (kudos to Hillenbrand in the fifth and Merloni in the sixth). But nothing prepared me for the plague that struck virtually our whole section in the seventh (it’s happened to me once before, and oh, the horror!) when a passerby walking along the aisle above the tier boxes stepped on a mustard packet and showered people spread over a ten-row area with enough stains to start a dry cleaning establishment.

It was wet. We wasted opportunites and an excellent pitching performance. Perhaps we were too distracted by all the attention to the Nets’ victory over the Celtics (for which I, an ex-Jersey boy, heartily congratulate them) and all the inclement weather. But we stayed to the bitter end, delighted that Jorge sent them a message for tomorrow in the ninth. And we didn’t give up until Tony Clarke stretched his long frame over the camera box and grabbed Shane’s pop for the 27th out. (If you see Charlie Lupica, tell him this one lasted 117 days, OK?)

YANKEE BASEBALL!!!