Rallying behind the monkey

First, some housekeeping. I received a number of responses

regarding last week’s “bro/bra” inquiry. The most cogent, in my

opinion, was from Amy Moylan of Newport Coast, who responded: “My

husband, a ‘local’ himself, says it is a way of describing all

surfing styles and attitudes to include everyone. ‘Bro’ is a local

slang greeting and represents the more ‘agro/rad’ style of surfing,

while ‘bra’ is Hawaiian slang greeting representing the more laid

back traditional surfing style.”

Amy did not include a definition of the “agro/rad” style of

surfing, but we will assume it refers to people who learned to surf

on a farm while listening to the radio. That aside, a heartfelt

“thank you” to Amy Moylan and the other respondents, including OP

Newport Classic’s publicist Alain Mazer, who seems to be an extremely

bright and talented person I predict will go far in the bro/bra biz.

Speaking of baseball, how about those Angels?

Orange County hasn’t seen this much excitement since former county

treasurer Bob Citron called the Board of Supervisors and said, “Can

we talk?” The whole place is burning up with Angel fever and the

Rally Monkey will need a week at the chiropractor when this is done.

That brings us, by the way, to an incredible coup by this fine

publication and your humble servant-columnist. Thanks to some string

pulling on my behalf by the upstanding Mayor of Anaheim, Tom Daly, I

was able to score a one-on-one interview with her hairy-ness, the

Rally Monkey.

I would like to report that our hyperactive simian friend is

charming, entertaining and fun. Sadly, I cannot. I found her to be

wound tighter than a drum and not very pleasant. But in this

business, you take your media icons where you find them. The

following is a transcript of my conversation with the white-face

capuchin.

PB: So how does it feel to finally get in the World Series?

RM: You’re like the sixth reporter who’s asked me that in the last

15 minutes. It feels great. Now can we fast-forward this thing? I got

Time and Entertainment Tonight out in the hall.

PB: OK, OK. What do they call you by the way?

RM: They call me a monkey, you idiot. Who did you say you’re with?

PB: The Daily Pilot, but they don’t usually send me out as a

reporter.

RM: Really. I was totally fooled.

PB: OK, wait. This is the first trip ever to the Big Show for you

and the Angels. Forty-one years is a long time to wait.

RM: I’m sure it is, except I’m 11. I wouldn’t know 41 years from

31 flavors. Are we done?

PB: No, uh, is your little uniform custom-made?

RM: No. It’s an old uniform of [Angels right fielder] Tim Salmon’s

that they steamed. Who did you say ... oh yeah, the Daily Planet. And

thanks for saying “little uniform,” which trivializes both me and the

contribution I’ve made to this club which, frankly, is the only

reason we’re here.

PB: Really? That’s a pretty gutsy claim.

RM: I’ll give you gutsy. Years of tears until I show up in June of

2000 and bada-bing -- we’re in the Big Show with one of the highest

team batting averages ever in a pennant race, I might add. Did you

watch the set with the Yankees? Nobody’s been shelled like that since

the bombing of Dresden. You’re not a Yankees fan, are you?

PB: No. I hate them.

RM: Good. Are we done?

PB: Almost. Is there bad blood between these two teams?

RM: Not really. They barely know each other. The Angels have never

been to the World Series. The Giants have won it all five times, but

all as the New York Giants, the last one being 1954. But there are

some interesting connections. J.T. Snow is an Orange County kid, and

Jeff Kent’s dad, Al Kent, is a former Costa Mesa police lieutenant.

Did you know that?

PB: Yes, I did.

RM: I’m impressed.

PB: Very funny. Do you know what “bro/bra” means?

RM: It’s two styles of surfing -- “bro” is more aggressive, and

“bra” is more traditional and laid-back.

PB: OK, forget that. You are a big, big hit in Newport-Mesa. Is

there any chance you’ll ever get down our way?

RM: Absolutely, soon as my schedule lightens up.

PB: Speaking of schedules, what is it like for you on game day?

RM: I sleep in. I have a light breakfast, half a banana and a

scone maybe. I don’t get to the yard until the fourth inning since

I’m never up before the seventh. I do some stretching, some light

jumps, then get into my “little” uniform and that’s about it.

PB: Do you watch the game?

RM: What game?

PB: The ball game.

RM: Let’s review. I’m a monkey. I don’t watch baseball.

PB: I got it. Are we done?

RM: One can only hope. Why?

PB: I gotta go.

* PETER BUFFA is a former Costa Mesa mayor. His column runs

Sundays. He may be reached via e-mail at [email protected].