Towards the end of the 2001 season I attended a Padres game with the future Mrs. AJM, my best friend, and his future Ex-Mrs. The future Ex-Mrs. of my best friend was the future Mrs. AJM's best friend. We introduced them. It's all very convoluted but it's neither here nor there. This is about Tony Gwynn and the 5.5 hole . . .
As we sat in Jack Murphy Stadium in the upper reaches of Left Field we had a perfect view of the infield and the locale that Tony Gwynn made so famous. On this particular evening, no doubt in celebration of Gwynn's career arriving at its conclusion, the infield dirt between third base and shortstop was emblazoned with a giant 5.5. Etched into the dirt, these numbers served as a reminder to every Padres fan the manner in which Gwynn plied his trade each night in Mission Valley and across the country.
Of course my guests weren't really aware of this fact. The girls were casual fans and my buddy had recently moved to San Diego from Arizona via New York. They didn't understand the significance of the numbers so I explained the numeration to all. I felt smart.
In front of our seats sat another couple. I overheard a young guy and girl reference the 5.5 hole and question it's meaning so I politely explained it to them. The guy looked at me and said, "That's not what it means!"
I assured him of my certainty but he wasn't having it. I sat back in my seat and delivered a mental assault for the ages. I don't recall who the Padres played or the outcome, only the homage to Tony Gwynn, the friends that accompanied me, and my brief conversation with the most ignorant man in San Diego.
Slashed into the 5.5 hole . . . whaddya think?
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