Seidemann: Hillary, Steinbrenner, and my worst date

From the other side of the bench

by David Seidemann

I picked her up on the Upper West side at about 11 o'clock in the morning for a one o'clock game. I was dressed for the Yankees, she was dressed for the Met. No, that is not a misprint. I do not mean the New York Mets, I mean the Metropolitan Opera. I was wearing khakis, an Izod shirt, and boat shoes. She was wearing pearls. I realized immediately that she would make a wonderful wife... for someone else.

Other than the fact that I looked like her little son, the walk to my car was uneventful. We exchanged pleasantries and engaged in the usual pre-game ballpark of ”'I hope it doesn't rain.” As I was adjusting my seatbelt this young woman took the rear-view mirror in her hand, twisted it to the right, fixed her makeup and leaned back in her seat. Now, I'm not against women fixing their makeup in the vehicle, and I'm not against them using the mirror that is on the visor in front of them, but I do have a problem with them using the rearview mirror, especially if I need the rear-view mirror to help me drive.

That was just a prelude of things to come. As soon as we entered the West Side Highway, she opened her pocketbook which was the size of  a catcher's mitt. She tilted it towards me, practically shoving it in my face, and asked me "Would you like a piece?" I glanced down and witnessed, by a conservative estimate, over 100 pieces of bubblegum in her pocketbook.

I politely declined but watched this young woman, for the next six hours, chew, blow bubbles, and insert a new piece of gum into her mouth every two minutes. 15 minutes into the car ride I was praying for a rain-out.

During the game, I miscalculated the extent of her allegiance to the Yankees. In the fifth inning, with the Yankees leading 8 to 1, I suggested we beat the traffic home. She responded like I had attempted to burn holy books.

We stayed through the sixth inning and the seventh inning and the eighth, all the while the incessant bubble popping continued. When the visiting team came to bat in the ninth inning, I recall thinking: three more outs and I'm home free. But G-d had different plans for me that day: the visiting team scored seven runs in the top of the ninth to tie the game.

Somewhere around the 14th inning, with  her reservoir of bubblegum dwindling, I once again, ever so slightly, suggested that perhaps we call it a night. She would hear nothing of it. Thankfully, in  the bottom of the 15th inning, the Yankees scored the winning run and my date with bubble woman was almost over.

A funny thing happened on the way home. My date ran out of gum. Suddenly, for the first time in hours, real conversation took place.

She surprised me by apologizing for the incessant gum chewing and explained that it was her coping mechanism for when she was nervous. I assured her that she had no reason to be nervous, that she was a lovely girl who was bright and articulate and had a lot to offer. I should have kept my mouth shut.  That string of compliments led her to ask: "So, you'll be calling me again?"

We went out one more time and it was the quickest game in bowling history. And by the way, she left her gum at home.

Relationships are tricky and complicated. Most of the problems arise, whether it's a relationship between a husband and wife or a parent and child, when one party attempts to change the behavior of the other. That rarely works and leads to intense frustration.

What does work, either with a spouse or a child, is for you to act consistently. Let the other party know where your center of gravity is and how you are going to conduct your own behavior. In most instances that will cause a change in the other person's behavior more effectively than your attempts to change their behavior.

I'm assuming bubble woman is married now to a man who  tolerates her habit or whose own behavior ensured that she doesn't need to blow bubbles anymore.

I learned a lesson that day: never take a first date to a sporting event that can go to extra innings.