Of All the Gin Joints, in All the Towns, in All the World...

We'll get back to that shortly. First, behold! The crowd. Keep this image in mind (or scroll back to it) because it's important. It also tells you that we had to walk all the way over to the bar in center field to get a decent beverage. Clearly, it'll be our only one of the evening so I am very glad we spent a couple of hours at Flannery's. As we enjoyed the view and the late evening sun (it rained all day) and wind (it felt like an Alberta Clipper), we were accosted by a charming young man who needed to get 100 people to enter some sort of contest. As we filled out the forms, we chatted. Stacey was a litttle peeved that the prize was not Grady Sizemore but the kid did try and tell her how to get down to the locker room. At that point she was too annoyed by the fact that the form asked for a spouse's name so she kind of missed it. Focus, Stacey. Focus.

As we begin the long trek back to our seats, we make broad generalizations about the young man. I determined that he lived in a trailer in the trailer park along the Red Line near the airport. This grand disputation was interrupted when we were almost run off the concourse by two young women who were holding the hands of a little boy. As they passed by, they mentioned some player and told the kid, "Hurry, this is the best thing that will happen to you in your whole life". I am aghast and yell after them, "Don't tell him that! That is not true". In response, one turns to me with a smile and says, "Yes, it is" and then Stacey agrees. I am overruled. Fight on my young stallion. This need not be your fate.

We sit and the Girl Scout to my right prepares for the buffeting of the North Winds. A couple want to get in our row but then they go to the section next to us. 30 seconds later, they come back. Wrong section. They are in 134, seats 11 & 12 and we are in 9 & 10 but because there is no one here, they move down a seat or two. About 1 minute later, they are asked to move over by some indignant folks who happen to have one of those seats. Of all the gin joints....you get it.

The pregame festivities have a decidedly homoerotic theme what with the Cleveland Pornstache Cop (one of these days I am bringing a camera with a zoom so you guys can see this guy). To get his attention, I did the YMCA dance even though they weren't playing the song. I didn't really get his attention but then there were a lot of boys down there trying to get the attention of the White Sox players. Who could blame them with all this going on?
I am my usual disrespectful self during the anthem and the Indians give up the long ball early. Ho hum! And then, something magical happens in the second. I believe it's off Choo's bat and I think the bat broke and a portion of it went into the crowd and queue the memory (please, do click on the link so you know just what was going on in my head but be patient as it takes a long time to load).

By this time Pink and her entourage have arrived but I can't pick on them too much because they laughed at all my jokes, especially when I make some comment about Gordon Beckham having a nice tight ass but maybe needing a bag for his face (okay, you be the judge - perhaps it was just a bad picture but he's a bit too Prince Hot Ginge to me).

Some baseball happens, Ketchup wins his first race of the season, and then Skylab falls again (although you can't really see it too well here thanks to the lack of a zoom on my iPhone) but trust me, it came down over Lake Erie. It's just to the right of Terminal Tower there.


By the bottom of the 7th with the Indians safely in the lead (insert laughter here - seriously they did win and we didn't miss anything), we bid Pluto Nash adieu (if anyone can explain this, please let me know in the Comments section) and head home. I have 45 minutes before the puck drops in Pa-honix. When I get home, I need a blanket because I am so cold I have the shakes and my teeth are chattering (that might also have been nerves although I refuse to admit that I was nervous over the second game in the first round). After a drab first, the Wings rebound offensively in the second, and then manage to take the lead in the third and play decent enough defense to win 7-4. Hank with the trick and Kronner with a Kronwalling. Shane "Sucks" Doan does score a late goal to tie it up and as the camera focuses on him, he displays some kind of crazy look (a look of crazy hitherto only displayed by those jubilant Christians as they marched into the arena to take their place at the feline all you can eat buffet) but then, he can't resist his innate dickishness and throws another late hit. I say "another" because the two games have been filled with late hits but this time it's called and the PP works. Hey, the PK worked too. All is well in Hockeytown!

Oh, yeah. Abby scored on a beautiful breakaway so the earlier post worked!

Next up: Echo and the Bunnymen on Thursday! Treats abound. Will Mac display his package (he's fat now so I don't think so)? Will we see a purple windbreaker?