Oh, Bring it on Motha-fuckas

Beautiful night. Lauren learns the joy of pornstache cop. Fickle Indians fans (yes, there were the "Indians sucks" chants after the errors and the sloppy pitching) but I guess first place isn't good enough for some people. Mean old ladies mext to us - sober as church mice - with the dirty looks whenever I had to pee or get beer. At one point the dude behind us asked me if the Reds pitcher was throwing a perfect game (he got there a little late) and I said "No, there was a walk at some point" but one of the mean old ladies next to me clarified with her superior sober memory that there had been no walk. The guy says "But LOB - that's left on base - is 0. How could we have had a walk?". Sober lady looks smug while I give him the "d'uh" look and say "I think maybe a double play...but I am pretty sure we had a base runner at some point". Five minutes later he confirms the walk with his trusty smart phone and I gloat privately. Sober lady looks away in disgust and I tell the guy that I am pretty sure he just jinxed the pitcher. His friend sounds just like Norm MacDonald but is not funny. It's very annoying especially when he tells me no one ever told him that before. Then it happens, the Indians explode. The dude totally jinxed the pitcher...or was it just another little taste of Armegeddon.

Seriously, on Doomsday Eve, with the Tribe down by a run in the bottom of the 8th inning, Ezequiel Carrera is sent to the plate as a pinch hitter and drops a lovely bunt to score Choo! Oh, bring it on Armies of Darkness!