KeySpan Park played host to a commercial starring Johan Santana and CC Sabathia this morning, which was pretty cool. Santana looked just about exactly as I thought he would (although Gary uncomfortably noted that he was "much more handsome" than he imagined), and Sabathia...well, he is about the size of a Tyrannosaurus Rex, as compared with most humans.
Big John Haley (who didn't look so big anymore, compared to Sabathia), Miguel, and I were asked to be "extras" in the commercial, and told to bring our gloves and spikes. Upon arrival, we were then told to "report to wardrobe" and get fitted for our uniforms. I got the Mets-colored uni, while John and Miggy got the other one...which is a good thing, because I would have protested, boycotted, and stormed off the set if it was the other way around.
So, the three of us suited up, and waited for our monumental on-screen debuts.
And then we waited.
And waited some more.
Two hours later, we eventually decided to take matters into our own hands and stand in the hallway, hoping to be noticed and asked to do something...anything.
We were. We were asked to move.
Luckily, our new
We had been snubbed!
Still all dressed up in our nameless, logoless uniforms, we at least wanted some proof of this experience, so the three of us weaseled our way into getting a quick picture with the two star pitchers:
I wished Johan good luck this season, and told Sabathia...well, I didn't want to be disingenuous, so I really didn't say anything to him, but he wouldn't have heard me all the way up there anyway.
And just like that, it was over.
Ahhh, the life of an extra. I was prepared to be "discovered" today, but it was just not meant to be. Maybe next time. Until then, I'll just keep waiting. And waiting. And waiting.