REMEMBER THAT TIME I SAID I'D NEVER LEAVE YOU AGAIN?
9 Comments Published by mandy on 7/09/2007 at 13:21.
Well that, like most everything out of my mouth, was a complete and total lie. I returned just long enough to start a racial flame war and now I'm getting the hell out of Dodge and letting Lauren clean up the mess. (Thanks Laur!)
I'll be in my native Pittsburgh for the next week or so, which means only one thing: Ben Roethlisberger's world is about to get rocked. And by rocked of course I mean stalked. (Big Ben News just makes it so easy.) I'll miss you guys, but truth be told, I'm pretty excited about my trip. Turns out a plane ticket is considerably less expensive than what I've been spending on gas and adult diapers on my previous cross-country stalking excursions.
My internet access will probably be intermittent at best, so everything's in Lauren's hands this week. In the meantime, I'm posing this question to you lovely readers:
Basketball and hockey are over and we've got a couple months until football, so I'm desperately bored with sports right now. As I've mentioned before, I just can't really get into baseball. Overweight, out of shape men running around in uniforms that look like pajamas just doesn't do it for me. But I'm trying. I just need a team to get behind.
My football loyalties lie with Pittsburgh. My basketball loyalties lie with Dallas. And my hockey loyalties are split between the two. So where should my loyalties lie in baseball?
Should I root, root, root for the home team, the perilously sucky Texas Rangers? Or should I support the ever so slightly less embarrassing Houston Astros? I lived in Houston for awhile.... I could go for the Pirates since I support all the other Pittsburgh sporting ventures, but what with the fan protests and all I'm not so sure it's the best time to try and be a fan again...I'm moving to Long Island next month so I suppose I could support the Mets, or the Yankees just to be a dick. I could like the Cardinals, Sox, or Tigers just because they're popular. Or I could go for the Brewers because they seem to like beer as much as me. Hmmm...decisions.
Somebody make up my mind for me. Please make this next month interesting.
I'll be in my native Pittsburgh for the next week or so, which means only one thing: Ben Roethlisberger's world is about to get rocked. And by rocked of course I mean stalked. (Big Ben News just makes it so easy.) I'll miss you guys, but truth be told, I'm pretty excited about my trip. Turns out a plane ticket is considerably less expensive than what I've been spending on gas and adult diapers on my previous cross-country stalking excursions.
My internet access will probably be intermittent at best, so everything's in Lauren's hands this week. In the meantime, I'm posing this question to you lovely readers:
Basketball and hockey are over and we've got a couple months until football, so I'm desperately bored with sports right now. As I've mentioned before, I just can't really get into baseball. Overweight, out of shape men running around in uniforms that look like pajamas just doesn't do it for me. But I'm trying. I just need a team to get behind.
My football loyalties lie with Pittsburgh. My basketball loyalties lie with Dallas. And my hockey loyalties are split between the two. So where should my loyalties lie in baseball?
Should I root, root, root for the home team, the perilously sucky Texas Rangers? Or should I support the ever so slightly less embarrassing Houston Astros? I lived in Houston for awhile.... I could go for the Pirates since I support all the other Pittsburgh sporting ventures, but what with the fan protests and all I'm not so sure it's the best time to try and be a fan again...I'm moving to Long Island next month so I suppose I could support the Mets, or the Yankees just to be a dick. I could like the Cardinals, Sox, or Tigers just because they're popular. Or I could go for the Brewers because they seem to like beer as much as me. Hmmm...decisions.
Somebody make up my mind for me. Please make this next month interesting.
Labels: baseball, ben roflsberger, mandy's lying again
This past weekend I made my way to a Fort Worth Cats game. Minor league baseball at it's finest.
Ah the Ft. Worth skyline at night.
The game was great because of these things:
1) Way cheaper tickets than MLB games
2) The game time entertainment
3) One of the Cats at bat songs was Tool's "The Pot"
4) Beautiful LaGrave Field (the last time I was there was when Mandy and I attended a concert that featured the surviving members of Great White)
5) The heckling
I haven't gotten to experience good heckling in a little while either, so this was a long time coming.
I set my sites on the third baseman for the Omaha Saltlicks. I had forgotten to get a roster before the game so I had to resort to just calling him Third Base. And believe me folks, there is nothing more intimidating than a five foot girl in black Chuck Taylor's and a pink little league shirt drunkenly screaming, "Thhiiiiiiirrrrdddd baaaaaaaassssssseeeeeee!!!!!" every chance she could. I did finally get his attention by the end of the game. He just looked up at us shrugged his shoulders. I think he really was confused as to why the short, stacked girl with the "way to proud of Texas" baseball cap on was yelling at him.
My party was conveniently just a stones throw away from the visiting teams seating section. So when the Cat's mascot, Dodger, went to silly string one of the player's moms I was in earshot when I yelled "PUNCH HER IN THE FACE DODGER!" Or the section favorite "Ole ole ole ole!"
There's dodger, just encouraging me. Don't encourage me Dodge, it just makes it worse.
The only downsides to the game were:
1) Losing. By a lot.
2) $5 a beer, GOOD GOD.
3) Having to pretend like I knew all the words to "Put me in coach" even though I was far too drunk to remember them
4) The old people at the game judging me when I yelled profanities
5) Trying and failing at starting the wave
6) Being the only one in the section to do the YMCA a la Brady Quinn
Go to a minor league game. Get drunk, and yell at the players. Because much like this diagram explains, baseball games and beer (and me) make any situation better. Hooray!
That yellow section is where you want to be.
EDIT: They are not the Saltlicks, they are the Saltdogs. My drunk ass kept referring to them as the Saltlicks during the game, and I guess I did a good job convincing myself that that was their real name.
And the super hot 3rd baseman was Jay Yaconetti. It should be noted that he received the majority of the heckling because he had such a fine ass. Love them baseball pants.
The game was great because of these things:
1) Way cheaper tickets than MLB games
2) The game time entertainment
3) One of the Cats at bat songs was Tool's "The Pot"
4) Beautiful LaGrave Field (the last time I was there was when Mandy and I attended a concert that featured the surviving members of Great White)
5) The heckling
I haven't gotten to experience good heckling in a little while either, so this was a long time coming.
I set my sites on the third baseman for the Omaha Saltlicks. I had forgotten to get a roster before the game so I had to resort to just calling him Third Base. And believe me folks, there is nothing more intimidating than a five foot girl in black Chuck Taylor's and a pink little league shirt drunkenly screaming, "Thhiiiiiiirrrrdddd baaaaaaaassssssseeeeeee!!!!!" every chance she could. I did finally get his attention by the end of the game. He just looked up at us shrugged his shoulders. I think he really was confused as to why the short, stacked girl with the "way to proud of Texas" baseball cap on was yelling at him.
My party was conveniently just a stones throw away from the visiting teams seating section. So when the Cat's mascot, Dodger, went to silly string one of the player's moms I was in earshot when I yelled "PUNCH HER IN THE FACE DODGER!" Or the section favorite "Ole ole ole ole!"
The only downsides to the game were:
1) Losing. By a lot.
2) $5 a beer, GOOD GOD.
3) Having to pretend like I knew all the words to "Put me in coach" even though I was far too drunk to remember them
4) The old people at the game judging me when I yelled profanities
5) Trying and failing at starting the wave
6) Being the only one in the section to do the YMCA a la Brady Quinn
Go to a minor league game. Get drunk, and yell at the players. Because much like this diagram explains, baseball games and beer (and me) make any situation better. Hooray!
That yellow section is where you want to be.
EDIT: They are not the Saltlicks, they are the Saltdogs. My drunk ass kept referring to them as the Saltlicks during the game, and I guess I did a good job convincing myself that that was their real name.
And the super hot 3rd baseman was Jay Yaconetti. It should be noted that he received the majority of the heckling because he had such a fine ass. Love them baseball pants.
Labels: adventures, baseball, drunk
