The G Train, after dark, on a weekend, is a place where magical things happen. You may never get to where you actually want to go, but you'll find yourself right where you need to be. Witness the tale of Erin, a young woman from Brooklyn, who just wanted to get home last night. What she never expected was to run into a certain former major leaguer in chef pants. She wrote up her story at her Tumblr, and gave us a few more details:
Sunday evening around 10 p.m., a visibly intoxicated man got on the train and immediately sat across from us and asked if we were "Irish or Scottish." At first I thought he was asking about our heritage since we're both tall and blonde? But upon further investigation (He had a coke bottle in his hand that was definitely not Coke and he was extremely sloshy), I think he thought we were talking with accents. We're both from the east coast.
He then asked us if we lived here and my friend told him she was visiting from Boston and he made a disgusted face then said, "I've played at Fenway a few times." This elicited a huge eye roll from me because this fat drunk guy was trying to coyly hint that he was a former Major League Baseball player. Please! I have told similar lies when drunk so he was barking up the wrong tree. So then I asked him if he was a Yankees fan or something since he had such a negative reaction to my friend being from Boston. He then asked, "Why, do you recognize me?" And then I was like, "If you're a former baseball player, what's your name? Would we have heard of you?" He would only tell me his name was Chuck and refused to tell us his last name.
Did I mention he was wearing chef pants? We tried to ignore him and talk amongst ourselves. He overheard us talking about our upcoming trip to Minnesota and he said, "Are you from Minnesota? I used to live in Minnesota!" Then he asked us if we were married and explained that he was recently divorced. He said we could come hang out with him but that we'd have to wait for him to change before we went out. No thanks. Then he said, "I'm more attractive than you" and then corrected himself and told my friend, "No, that's not what I meant. I meant I'm more attracted to you than to you (pointing to me)." We escaped very quickly when the train got to our stop.
On the sidewalk we were laughing about it and I was all, "Can you believe that guy? He tried to hint that he's a former baseball player! The things drunk guys say!" Then my friend googled "chuck minnesota yankees" and it came up with his mugshot and holy shit it was Chuck Knoblauch.
In chef pants.
For the record, Knoblauch got on the train at 7th Avenue and told Erin he was heading to "171st Street," which is not a stop on the G or on any other subway line.