Man, This Dude Sucks!

Pregame: What to wear? Well, the Wings won yesterday so I decided upon my Wings pro-weight jersey and a thermal undershirt as I know for a fact there will be no one else at the game in a Red Wings jersey. What I never knew was there was an Alesci's downtown but apparently that's where Joanna and I wouldn't find Greg Columbus although we did run into just about everybody else in Cleveland and learned that the Alesci's has been there for 12 years! Wow. After obtaining a slice of cheese pizza, we mosey (no, we claw our way) to the bar where we wait for about 10 minutes to order. As I wait, I see something red and white out of the corner of my eye. I then notice it has this big "D" on the front, a small winged wheel on the shoulder, and a "C" on the chest. Yeah, it's a Red Wings jersey. I don't even need to look to know that it's got a number 5 on the back. The Perfect Human. Oh, well. We drink our Smithick's and leave. We figure it'll be easier to get a beer at the Jake...I mean the "Pro" or whatever we are supposed to call it now.
Game: As we enter, I hear numerous "go Wings" cheers and I am happy. We obtain some beer, cash in our first "loaded" ticket, and head to our new seats. One section over (the first two seats in the row) and one row back. Joanna and I promptly fart to christen them (we really didn't - well, Joanna did some time during the 2nd inning - but that's what we're telling Maria). The opening ceremony is decidedly unspectacular, except for the Bob Feller ceremonial pitch and the fact that the crowd boos Chris Perez! I mean, you kind of feel bad because it's opening day but the dude sucks so it's funny. I boo-ed too.

Oh smashing, we have attorneys behind us. Bastards! Everything they said annoyed me especially when they started talking about Japan and how they both knew a "Toro" except the one guy got it wrong, the other guy knew a "Toru" not a "Toro". I tried to explain to him that a "Toro" is either a Spanish bull or a lawn mower but he wouldn't listen. They never do.

Around the 3rd inning, we decide it's time for a quick pee and another beer. As we get in line at the Women's room, there are two chicks ahead of us swaying back and forth. It's 3:55 pm. How can you even come close to being that drunk? The more sober of the two is telling the drunker of the two to pee and then WAIT for her by the sink. Under no condition is the drunker of the two to LEAVE the Women's room without the "sober" one. As the drunker one enters the stall, she decides now is a good time to put on some lip gloss. Most of it goes on that area above the lip and below the nose. As we depart the Women's room, the "sober" chick is calling for the "drunk" chick who is still in the stall. We don't see them again. It is quite possible they are still in the Women's room. There goes the top of the 3rd. We then get in line at the bar to get a couple of brews. This is annoying and takes us through the bottom of the 3rd and the guy can't cash in the second "loaded" ticket because he is a moron. Yeah, service is great at the "Pro". As we leave and head back to our seats, we walk by a "special child" and by "special", I mean "retarded" (I hope Sarah Palin reads this) and by "child" I mean "dude in his late 30's or 40's" (it's hard to tell when they are "special") who yells at me "Detroit sucks". Okay, I know I shouldn't pick on the "special people" but he follows us and keeps yelling at me at the top of his lungs "Detroit sucks". I maintain my dignity by not engaging him or dropping my gloves and return to my seat.

I really don't have too much to say about the game except that I don't know what we'd do without Choo and I don't know why Acta thought it was a good idea to let Chris Perez back on the mound, on opening day, after he got booed. All he did was load the bases with no one out and get booed a lot more, especially by me. I just hate this guy and so does the entire city. It's official. We did get out of the inning only to poop the bed in the 10th but still, he loaded the bases and got no one out.

So, back to the seats and the beautiful people. My favorite couple was sitting one section over. We believe they may have rode in on a Harley. He has a leather Indians cap and she has a pink and white Fat Albert type cap that looks like it is from the 70's. She also has some fabulous boots. What we find most charming is that each of them pine for the other when they are away from their seats, looking back towards the concession stands every 30 seconds until their safe return. Considering it takes an entire inning to get any service, this requires a lot of looking back. I am happy to report that they both made it back to their seats after every jaunt through the dark side.

Later a guy with plaid boxer shorts came down and sat in the seats in front of us (the seats had been inhabited by three old people and one young Adonis who was chosen for a stupid game on the jumbotron and who was massaged by Joanna to loosen him up before the thrilling competition.). I am not sure why he came down but as he left he told me he loved Detroit, hated the Penguins, and gave me a high five. I told him to go kick the retarded guy's ass for me! No, I didn't. I actually just thought of this now. Damn.

Post Game: Really nothing exciting happened except that we saw this guy with his jeans tucked into these red socks. It couldn't go unnoticed or without comment.

Next Game: Friday night against the White Sox. Stacey's on deck.