World Series of Assholes

As I promised in my last post about baseball, I managed to catch a couple games of the World Series. Because I'm from Michigan, I felt a bit torn about who to cheer for. I remember feeling this way as a young girl, when I was visiting my dad in Cleveland and we went to a game in which the Indians were playing the Tigers. "Who do you want to win?" I asked him, concerned (much like Jonah seemed when he asked who I'd root for in these games). "Oh, whoever wins is fine," my dad assured me. "It's more about team work and playing a good game. Whoever wins will deserve it."

What a nice way to look at things! That's how I felt on Wednesday night when Paulie and I strolled down to the Toad in the Hole pub to catch the game on the big, huge screen. My plan had been to wear my Tigers shirt and my Giants hat, but I couldn't find my hat. I thought I'd found it in Jonah's room, and grabbed it triumphantly, but when I put it on later I realized that it was actually a Jonah-sized hat (which explains why it was in Jonah's room, I guess). 

I didn't think my dual-team support plan being foiled would be that big of a deal. It's not like I live in the Midwest any more, where people will threaten your life if you dare like the team that they don't like. Personal opinions aren't always respected there. But hey, I live in California now! We're all about acceptance here! 

While at the Toad, we ran into our friend Joey and his son Skye. I'm assuming this was an exciting yet perplexing moment:

(they are not really related)

The sea of black and orange made me a little nervous, but no one seemed bothered by my presence. Still, there was nowhere to sit, so we headed around the corner to the much quieter, calmer Jack and Tony's. I was relieved that there were only a few people sitting at the bar, watching the game in a seemingly relaxed manner.  

Who should I cheer for??

After settling in with some friends, I went to the bar to order our drinks. There I encountered two Giants fans, and unfortunately there was a commercial on, so they weren't distracted enough to not notice me. Fan A saw me standing there and raised his eyebrows. "Tigers!" he said. "Huh." This made Fab B look at me. Fab B was a Very Mean Man. "Oh, shit" he said, (rather aggressively, I'd like to add). "You'd better turn that shirt inside out if you know what's good for you."

I looked at Fan A who seemed slightly nicer and shrugged. "I'm from Michigan," I told him.

Fan B was not letting my offensive choice of clothing go, and added "or just turn around so I don't have to look at you!"

I said to Fan A "yeah, I was going to wear my Giants hat too, so, you know--" but Fan B leaned over Fan A to interrupt with "well coulda shoulda woulda gets you about as far as....." I didn't hear the end of that surely delightful anecdote because my drinks arrived at that moment, so I picked them up, gave an exaggerated raising of the eyebrows to Fan A, and headed back to our table full of non-crazies.

Ah, sportsmanship! I wouldn't be surprised  if that guy was involved in initiating the Detroit-like riots in San Francisco after the Giants won the World Series. Thumbs up, folks! You showed us all what it means to be a die hard fan - with a good old-fashioned bus burning. Well done.

In all seriousness though, congrats to the Giants. Baseball is actually the one sport that holds a special place in my heart (thanks to those Indians games I went to in my youth). Until next season....