Balcony Gal and The Man

Yesterday, in a bizarre twist of fate my readers reader had company in the world that is Balcony Gal. I was sitting here, looking at the lone stat for my blog (thanks for reading it Balcony Guy!! I love you. *sigh*) when an email came in from The Man's Really Pretty Daughter (from here on out known as TMRPD). She and The Man read the blog post and they loved it. They got more people to read the post and before I knew it, people were flocking to View From the Celtics Balcony in droves, searching for the paypal button that allows them to donate to defray the cost of Balcony Gal's playoff tickets. The end.

Oh, I know, I jest. Bet you didn't expect that from me, huh? I can have a sense of humor at times; it's not all serious around the Balcony.

Anyway, back on topic. I'm sitting here and my google account lights up saying I have a message. Oh, this wasn't just any message. It was the kindest, sweetest, most thoughtful message I've ever received in my whole storied 3 month career as a blogger. And I'm not just saying that to kiss TMRPD's ass and get out of the world of a woman that look like Scot Pollard and into the world of the pretty girls. Serious. She said she loved it. She said The Man loved it. They laughed. They passed it on to friends and family. Wow. The Man liked it. He really liked it. SHE SAID HE WANTS TO MEET ME.

dream sequence * The soundtrack to Balcony Gal's life quietly begins to play in the background. The heavens open up and a collective AAHHHHHH can be heard throughout the land. Balcony Gal runs through a meadow of tall grasses and beautiful wild flowers, spinning in circles, arms in the air, flowing skirts - why have just one? - floatinging poetically around her legs. She is thrilled that The Man read her post. She is thrilled that anyone read her post. Then, just as she prepares to leap a tiny burbling brook, she stumbles over the rock that is reality and everything stops. * end dream sequence

I can't meet The Man. He's larger than life. He's The Man. Everyone knows him. Everyone hugs him. Players high five him. The Boston Globe wrote an article on him, talking about how he's a fixture on the court. He's rarely missed a game since 1981. He's a true fan, something that was lacking in the lean years of the Cs franchise. There are other true fans, people who've seen almost every game, who've tried to cheer through tears of frustration, who sent their 40 dollar check to the RMV 3 years ago to get their Celtics license plate that has yet to arrive (Dear RMV, will you ever issue the plate? What's the ETA? If you're not going to send them out this season I could really use that $40 to pay for playoff tickets. Do you know how hard it is to keep that $40 in the account? There have been times when I've had to buy diapers and tequila and didn't want to dip into the $40. Let's just say it's gotten messy. Sincerely, Balcony Gal) but The Man has payed a premium for premium seats and been there the whole time. I can't meet The Man.

I'm nervous. Perhaps if I hide.

Perhaps I just need a drink.

Perhaps the drink is some of that stuff from Alice in Wonderland and I will grow very tall so I can then face The Man.


announcer: Due to all of this drinking, Balcony Gal has to run off to the head. Join us next time as Balcony Gal tranforms into Floor Gal and tells you about things that happened on the court like

• when KG stepped on Joakim "My Hair Belongs In the WNBA " Noah's foot during a jump ball
• when it was confirmed that the Celtics Dancers do, indeed, have belly buttons
• when Gooden was ejected in the second quarter for his second technical foul and he threw his jock strap arm warmer at Floor Girl **this event may have been altered to protect the innocent and make her him look cooler**
• when very important people shook Floor Girl's hand and didn't laugh at her for standing next to them
• when Floor Girl got a hug and a kiss from The Man and discovered all of his friends call him The Man too. This may or may not be because he makes them since he is the divine owner of the few seats they were warming.
• Scal up close with his head shaved is, in a word, scary. But the crowd was behind him like never before and when he pulled down that 3 there was nothing but cheer.