The Good, The Bad, and The Fugly

The Good

Handicapped Seats! Since we recently learned that Joanna's walking cast is like an actual "casty" type cast and not the walking boot thing we figured it would be (we had our orthopedic surgeon hats on that day), we decided to see what kind of tickets we could get in the Jack Handy section. Turns out, pretty good! Section 152. Directly behind home plate and in the shade with a lovely breeze out of the west. Not a bead of sweat formed all day long. As we sat down the pleasant old usher man came and told us to keep our eyes peeled as foul balls were as common as a Grady Sizemore knee injury. Okay, that was not the exact metaphor he used but you get the drift, we should expect a lot of balls! Needless to say only one was close.

No Douche Bags! Up until the later innings when the sweaty folks moved back into the shade, Joanna and I watched the game in total peace. That means all my pent up emotion will be spent on just about everyone except Handsome Jack...No wait! There was that one time I uttered a loud "Goddammit!" in front of the children. Normally I don't think of the children but I had only had an Orange Crush to drink.

Jack Hannahan! Okay, he struck out thrice but he had a hit and an RBI. Plus he was solid at 3rd as usual. What was really nice was getting to see him warm up in the on deck circle (seen above although images in the photo appeared a lot closer in real life) and do his stretches when he assumed the field position. Smashing. The man is limber. They were raffling off chances to meet some Indians but I didn't buy a ticket because Jack was not one of my options. Whatever!

Fuk U, Do Me! Joanna got involved in the nickname game with an excellent submission. It's all about the inflection.

Shelly and Sandy - Separated at Birth? Submission! You be the judge.



The Bad

Big Screen Appearances! There were two although I only saw one. This has never happened before. Of course I have never been to an Indians game and not had a beer before so sobriety might have been the issue. I don't think I'll test the theory because if I have to sit through another game like that sober, I might explode.

Chisembop was the DH! 'Nuff said.

Seattle Mariners! Last time I checked, they sucked. Curse you, Ichiro (shakes fist to the heavens)! We so needed Mothra on the mound this week. You blow, Wily Mo! Seriously, tell your momma that "Willy" is spelled with two "Ls". Casper?!? He's a friendly ghost and not a guy who gets a clutch hit. Carp?!? That's a damned ugly fish and I hate you.

The Fugly

Indians Pitching! Words can't explain how mad I am at everyone except Bat right now. Long Ball Tomlin was useless. Raffy Perez was so bad Joanna thought it was Chick Hips (he is officially back to "The Douche Bag" after Monday night) out there! I called Chad "Durtbag" and he didn't even give up a run although he did pop someone (I think Pena) and by that time, it was kind of funny. Because we were behind home plate you could really hear the ball hit flesh. We flinched and then laughed. I think we gave up about 30 hits between last night and today.

Indians Offense! 2 for 12 or something like that with men in scoring position. At some point the EMT's went by with a stretcher. It did not appear to be an injury from a foul ball so I can only assume someone else was sober and had a stroke watching our pathetic attempts at the plate.

Carlos "Fatman" Santana got popped! Yeah, we need that. He sat there for sometime after taking a foul tip off the mask. I sat in the stands and yelled "What is your name? What is your favorite color? What is the airspeed velocity of a coconut laden swallow?" to no one in particular.