300-pound man crushes fan at Shea Stadium

Anonymous Sports Betting

Ellen Massey always counted being struck by a baseball or a bat at Shea Stadium among the hazards of being a Mets fan, but she never thought a 300-pound man would come crashing down the stands — and onto her.

That’s what the Manhattan resident, 58, said happened on Monday, Opening Day at Shea.

Shortly after the seventh-inning stretch, she said, a man dressed in a green Army-type jacket tumbled from higher seats and onto her back, knocking the wind out of her and, ultimately, causing serious injury.

“I only know he came flying,” Massey, 58, said Wednesday from her bed in Jacobi Medical Center in the Bronx. “I was literally not able to breathe for about half-a-minute or so. The first thing I was aware of was not being able to breathe, and then when I was able to breathe I was aware of the pain in my lower back.”

Massey, who is a lawyer, is scheduled for surgery on a vertebra on Friday. After she was injured, she said, she was attended to by two emergency medical technicians who were in the stands watching the game, and then by Shea’s own medics, who stabilized her head and neck area and took her to a local hospital.

She was transferred to Jacobi on Wednesday.

A Mets spokesman declined to comment Wednesday night.

Massey’s nephew, Peter Rubens, 35, of Brooklyn, said the first sign that something was amiss was a splash of beer flying onto her at about 4 p.m., then a bump from the man, who is unidentified.

“We were sitting and watching the ball game,” he said. “And in a split-second a rather large person, a man, came sort of tumbling down upon us and basically landed on my aunt’s head and neck.”

Rubens said he couldn’t make out distinguishing features of the man, who got up quickly and left. The nephew said he was most concerned at the moment about his aunt, who had begun gesturing that she couldn’t breathe.

Going to Opening Day at Shea has become a family tradition for him and his relatives, a ritual dating back two decades, Rubens said.

Massey, who said she goes to six or seven games a season, said she started going to the opener with family two years ago.

“I have to say that in going to a baseball park, the only fear that has ever entered my mind is that I’d get hit by a hard ball,” she said.

“I didn’t expect a 300-pound human missile to hit me in the back. That doesn’t come up on my list of fears.”

(ICE)Storm of the Century.

The following photos are of an ice storm that hit the area of Lake Léman (also known as Lake Geneva), Switzerland.

The cold did not save sailing ships moored in the ports of Léman. In Geneva, several boats sank under the weight of the ice. Several minor roads were closed, passage having been made impossible by the ice and the snowdrifts. In downtown Geneva, Servette Street was closed after the rupture of a water pipeline transformed the roadway into a true skating rink.

I wonder how long it took these people to get into their vehicles? How many hours in 50° weather would it take for the ice to melt enough to be able to get into your vehicle?

Those trees must be pretty tough also. A minor ice storm where I live will bring the trees tumbling to the ground. These trees look none the worse for wear though.

 

versoix-4 ice-storm-on-lake-geneva Ice1 120207_switzerland_ice

Pocket Tazer Stun Gun, A Great Gift For The Wife

Last weekend I saw something at Larry’s Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 22nd anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife, Toni. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were suppose to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety…. WAY TOO COOL! Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two triple-a batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I’d get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs. Awesome!!! Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Toni what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave. Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn’t be all that bad with only two triple-a batteries,… right?

There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong? So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, taser in another.

The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries. All the while I’m looking at this little device measuring about 5″ long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-a batteries) thinking to myself, “no possible way!” What happened next is almost beyond description, but I’ll do my best….. I’m sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, “don’t do it master,” reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn’t hurt all that bad…. I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it.

I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY MOTHER, WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION@!@$$!% !@*!!! I’m pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs. The cat was standing over me making meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, “do it again, do it again!” Note: If you ever feel compelled to “mug” yourself with a taser, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. A three second burst would be considered conservative. SON-OF-A- … that hurt like hell!!!

 

taser me elmo

A minute or so later (I can’t be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantle of the fireplace. How did they get up there??? My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novacaine, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. I’m still looking for my testicles. I’m offering a significant reward for their safe return.