to big time games.
either you have to know someone or be rich or be someone or be evil or be connected or steal or be on the take or have blown someone or something to sit front row during a bigtime playoff game like that and looking at my buddy there i can think of a few things he musthave done from that list to be in the position that he was last night when fate rang and he answered, “yell-low.”
its pretty easy to be a cub fan in the front row of a baseball game.
you sit there.
you cheer when the cubs do anything, and boo at the other team, and try to make the umpire cry, and drink your beer, and eat your food, and if someone passes something dont bogart and pass it along.
tip the guys who bring you your shit
and dont reach over the railing.
the umpire said that moises reached into the stands.
ump was wrong. everyone was wrong. the fans arms are going out. moises’s glove was going up.
not only will the guy have a beautiful life in florida, where he should move back to, but im glad he didnt even get the ball.
pray for kerry wood.
pray for sammy sosa.
pray for moises and randall and kenny lofton.
its ok to pray for baseball players.
and please pray for joe borowski.
im off to get more rum.