First, there was this guy. Then, Wednesday night at the Richmond County Bank Ballpark at St. George, home of the Staten Island Yankees, there was another champ.
Wednesday was one of my substitute games as part of my seven-game, strap-on-the-feedbag plan, so I wasn't in my usual seat (which wasn't far from where a guy got drilled in the left cheek by a line drive early in the game). I was a few rows behind home plate, and since there weren't many people at the game, I just grabbed an empty seat in my row. After a few innings, a guy who'd had a few said I was in his seat and quietly asked me to just shift over two. So I did. All was well.
And then the guy started yelling. But not your usual yelling. No, "Let's go Yankees" was repeated for about 30 seconds in a high-pitched squeal that brought all eyes in the section on to my rowmate. I guess after awhile he felt compelled to explain himself, so he just said, "I can't yell." I'm assuming he meant that someone at the stadium had asked him to stop yelling (he was also a season-ticket holder), and I'm guessing that someone was alerted by a concerned parent of a frightened child. So, his response was to adopt a high-pitched yelp that surely no one would find fault with, assuming your ears were not sensitive to high frequencies.
Of course, he was still yelling--just in a ridiculously high-pitched voice. So I'm not sure what was accomplished. And he couldn't even stick to that, as he kept slipping into his normal yelling voice every now and then. He really liked to yell at the batter to hit it to center, loudly pointed out foul balls after they landed in the seats, and forcefully urged both pitchers and hitters to "straighten it out" repeatedly.
However, he reached his true moment of turmoil when the Yankees drove in a run with a double to left. He yelled really loud in his manly yelling voice and then almost instantly stopped. I looked to my right and saw him with his head in his hands, gently reminding himself, "I can't yell. I can't yell."
I moved a little later.
(In the interest of fair play, a fan at the Cyclones game I went to tonight kept yelling, "Show him where you live" to Cyclone batters, and, for the life of me, I can't figure out what that means. Do the players live in the ocean? I was confused. But at least it wasn't yelled in a voice reminiscent of Tiny Tim's.)