Greasy Grimy Smelly Cubbie Guts!
Although I long ago (well, 5 years ago) shifted my baseball allegiances to the South Side, I still try to head up to Wrigley Field a few times a year before they tear the place down.
Went last night, and had the quintessential Wrigley experience:
-Didn't get to our seats until after the game started. This is my biggest pet peeve in baseball, since I keep score. Lord knows there's a snowball's chance in hell of any Cubs fan knowing what the first two batters did. One cool thing--our seats were directly behind the infamous Steve Bartman seat, which is marked with a Cubs sticker on the back. If you insist on seeing it in person--it's Field Box 4, Row 8 on the far left side of the section.
-The bathrooms were overflowing. Not with people (smallish crowd for Wrigley on a cold night), but with a nice pungent mixture of piss and water about 2 inches deep on the floor. I pity any kid who had untied shoelaces. My buddy Paul described it as reeking like "microwaved piss." I don't wanna know.
-Fans next to us were loud and obnoxious underagers from Calumet City. They thought it was clever as shit that they had a "Nomar Getbetterciaparra" banner. They were holding it up at Jason DuBois as he warmed up in LF, and they didn't take too kindly to it when I told them that Nomar does not wear number 4.
-Two fights broke out in the tunnel right behind our seats. The fights drew more attention than the game from most of the blue-wearing yutzes.
-Carlos Zambrano had one of his meltdowns. Got shelled, plunked a batter, got tossed, pissed and moaned his way to the dugout. Waaa waaa freakin' waa.
-Reds closer Danny Graves fell off the bump after one of his pitches, and the dinguses next to me thought it was hysterical. They were like "what kind of dumbass falls off the mound?" I looked them straight in the eye and says "what kind of dumbass falls coming out of the batter's box and ends up missing 3 months?" Absolute dumbfounded silence was all I got in return.
Although I long ago (well, 5 years ago) shifted my baseball allegiances to the South Side, I still try to head up to Wrigley Field a few times a year before they tear the place down.
Went last night, and had the quintessential Wrigley experience:
-Didn't get to our seats until after the game started. This is my biggest pet peeve in baseball, since I keep score. Lord knows there's a snowball's chance in hell of any Cubs fan knowing what the first two batters did. One cool thing--our seats were directly behind the infamous Steve Bartman seat, which is marked with a Cubs sticker on the back. If you insist on seeing it in person--it's Field Box 4, Row 8 on the far left side of the section.
-The bathrooms were overflowing. Not with people (smallish crowd for Wrigley on a cold night), but with a nice pungent mixture of piss and water about 2 inches deep on the floor. I pity any kid who had untied shoelaces. My buddy Paul described it as reeking like "microwaved piss." I don't wanna know.
-Fans next to us were loud and obnoxious underagers from Calumet City. They thought it was clever as shit that they had a "Nomar Getbetterciaparra" banner. They were holding it up at Jason DuBois as he warmed up in LF, and they didn't take too kindly to it when I told them that Nomar does not wear number 4.
-Two fights broke out in the tunnel right behind our seats. The fights drew more attention than the game from most of the blue-wearing yutzes.
-Carlos Zambrano had one of his meltdowns. Got shelled, plunked a batter, got tossed, pissed and moaned his way to the dugout. Waaa waaa freakin' waa.
-Reds closer Danny Graves fell off the bump after one of his pitches, and the dinguses next to me thought it was hysterical. They were like "what kind of dumbass falls off the mound?" I looked them straight in the eye and says "what kind of dumbass falls coming out of the batter's box and ends up missing 3 months?" Absolute dumbfounded silence was all I got in return.
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