Tuesday, June 26

Actually, there are three syllables in Mariners

The seats at Safeco are padded, provide cup holders, and space to pass by other fans, but tragically, the same drunken assholes attend no matter where you are. At least I didn't get beer spilled on me, which is about all I have to say about last night's debacle. Actually, I should probably thank the mouth-breathing, beer-swilling, compulsive smoker next to me because he distracted me from the horror on the field with his ear-piercing whistles (for no discernible reason), his repeated chants of "Let's go, Mar-ners," and his relentless attempts to teach his 2-year-old son how to boo. I'd agree that this was all sour grapes from a less than stellar Sox performance, but the guy was just as irritating during the four innings when the Sox were ahead. While I'm being pissy, I also hate the bullshit "entertainment" they throw up on the big screen between innings and pitching changes -- keep that crap in the minor leagues, please. Put up baseball stats or scores from around the league, but I really could not care less about which speed boat is fastest in some contrived computer-generated race.

Let's hope for something more positive tonight, or this is the last fucking time I see baseball in Seattle.

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