The New York weather report Monday? Cloudy, with falling confetti [1]. Technically it rained on and off yesterday, but you couldn’t tell from the sense of sunshine pervading what has become the most reliably joyous event on the Metropolitan Area October calendar, the Elimination Day Parade.
Goodbye gloom, hello Elimination! [2]
This year’s Elimination Day Parade may have been the best one yet, which is high praise, indeed, considering they’ve been held annually 1903 (except for the 27 times it was cancelled by circumstances beyond the organizers’ control). I’m always surprised Elimination Day has never been codified as a federal, state and/or municipal holiday, given the celebration of the human spirit it embodies. Government offices were open, mail was delivered, banks did business, alternate side of the street parking was in effect and sanitation pickups were made. The last part was most understandable in light of the theme of this year’s Elimination Day Parade: A Clean Sweep. I believe they used that in 2012, 1980, 1976 and 1963, too, but if you’ve got a winner, why not run it out there as often as possible?
[3]Kudos to the Sheadenfreude Commission.
I realize some purists quibble with the creeping commercialization of the Elimination Day Parade, harking back to the era when John McGraw stood on the steps of City Hall and scowled haughtily while the masses roared their approval, but I thought enlisting corporate sponsor Primatene MIST, a brand that invites users to Breathe Easy Again [4], was most appropriate for the occasion. And thanks should go out as well to the broom-producing members of the American Brush Manufacturers Association [5]; the Canyon of Zeroes never looked spiffier. As for how the scene sounded, it goes without saying that the legendary horn section of the visiting Lake Erie Marching Midge Band had everybody buzzing.
Grand Marshal Troy Glaus — so honored in commemoration of the 20th anniversary of his three home runs and 1.264 OPS in the 2002 ALDS — demonstrated fine form leading the procession. Dignitaries Sandy Koufax, Johnny Bench, Ken Griffey, Jr., and Josh Beckett beamed with pride from the reviewing stand, knowing the cause they stood for so heroically has strode on without interruption every autumn from 2010 forward. You’ve probably seen the photos taken by Elimination Day Parade Most Valuable Photographer [6] Randy Johnson. So many smiles on so many faces…
It’s hard to say which moment elicited the biggest cheer.
Maybe it was when the Salute to ALCS MVPs Whose Names Begin With J float, upon which Jeremy Peña, Jose Altuve, Justin Verlander and Josh Hamilton each stood and raised his trophy high in the air, rolled by.
Maybe it was when Dusty Baker ascended to the podium and unbuttoned the jersey he wore managing his team to victory in the 2022 ALCS to reveal underneath the jersey he wore while playing in and winning the 1981 World Series.
Maybe it was when an enormous mechanical gavel, festooned with 62 Bronx-cultivated corpse flowers — once designated the official flower of New York’s northernmost borough [7] — flailed atop the Sweet Justice float and absolutely nobody rose.
Maybe it was when a sudden gust of wind [8] seemed to blow closed the retractable roof on the always dependable, ever popular Alibi Express bus, a staple of every Elimination Day Parade. Truly a technological marvel.
Or maybe people were most happy to simply partake of the frothy treats from the Big Papi Papaya Parfait Pop Up Shops placed every couple of blocks along the route. You can’t have an Elimination Day Parade without tasting the influence of David Ortiz [9].
Ah, Elimination Day. It makes every fall land just a little more softly. Kudos to the Sheadenfreude Commission for once more giving the good citizens of the Metropolitan Area something to revel in. There hasn’t been much otherwise lately.