Don't Cry for Me Argentina!

Uncle Mike won't allow it. Neither will I. As Homer said last night, "I don't want to talk about it". Maybe later baby but not now.

How y'all are then? I am happy for you to see me I guarantee! I miss Justin. That man could work a pork butt. I feel like Charlotte on a walk....focus!

Okay, where was I. Oh yeah, Indians game 3 and the sun is out. 12:05 start. The smell of fresh cut timber! The crash of mighty trees! My best gal by my side... Uh oh, channeling again.

So I am not a marketing wiz but I can say that if I did promotions at "The Pro", I might make Corona and Dos Equis my beer special on Cinco de Mayo. In fact, I might even open the special Corona/Dos Equis stand on a day such as today and perhaps do a deal on nachos and beer. Alas, the special was some draft ale and a rum drink. Well done my friend whoever you are.

The crowd is sparse (in fact the crowd is so sparse they had to school bus the kids in like a McCain-Palin rally) but as usual our section is full. In front of us are four guys from Parma. Now, I don't know for sure that they are from Parma (in fact, I am pissing in the wind here) but I might bet the farm. My only regret is that I was not able to get Dude Number 2's t-shirt in the photo. It was a lovely number. A souvenir from a trip to Florida. I know this because under the alligator graphic, it says "FLORIDA". It's awesome. He giggles like a girl although he did laugh when I said "where's the Benny Hill music when you need it". We suck except for Choo.

Pornstache was working the game and I tried to get his attention a lot by calling out "Hey, Pornstache". Admittedly, this might not be the best thing to yell at a Cleveland cop but I kind of get the feeling he'd dig it. Still no zoom but I don't feel a Tribe post would be complete without him.

Harry Shine was also there (credit Joanna). He was a lot hairier and a lot shinier in person. It was a sweaty day.


The Indians Hawaiian shirt is apparently what all the guys are wearing this season.


We saw three in our section alone. It's versatile and looks "good" with jeans, khakis, or Bermuda shorts.





At this point, I suppose I should discuss the game. We were in the lead or tied for the majority of the game and then, "it" happened. The bottom of the 8th inning. The Blue Jays (who now wear black - wtf?) were kind of sort of threatening and Acta decides now would be a good time to make a call to the Bullpen and bring in Chris Perez. I start booing. I boo him as he drags his satchel ass (credit my dad) to the mound. I boo him as he warms up. I make disparaging comments as he strikes out 2 to end the inning. I am not impressed. I know that even though Acta should take this as a sign from the heavens that he should count his lucky stars and put anyone else on the mound for the 9th, he won't. I've just lived through the hell that was the 3rd period in Detroit last night so I know it's coming. The fans around me are suckers, nay idiots. They cheer him as the first two batters go down. I don't. I am waiting for it. As everyone stands to cheer Satchel Ass to victory, I wait for it. Oh, look! Down 0 and 2 on the count and he throws up a nice juicy fat ball. It goes to center field for a base hit. A couple of guys a few rows in front of us contemplate the stupidity of the pitch. I yell something like "It's Perez, come on! He sucks!" There is an error and another body on the bases. That's two and we were up by two with the game losing run at the plate. Perez coughs up the long ball. 5 - 4 Black Jays. There is another error and we get out of the inning to not rally in the bottom of the 9th. I now have a special new chant:

Daduh duh duh duh duh! Duh duh duh duh duh! Duh duh duh duh duh . . . Pe-rez sucks!

A Douche