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I'm a Dodger die-hard. It's in my blood. So I can't like the Angels. But do you know who I hate even more? That jackass who was sitting behind me at the game today.
He and his Angel ass-kissing buddy did not stop speaking throughout the entire game. They seriously thought they were placed on this earth to be the walking and talking media guides and for three and a half hours they didn't shut up once. They loudly spewed stats and facts at each other which seemed rather pointless since obviously the other one was painfully aware of GA's batting average this year given that they are both big Angels fans, but also because the damn batting average is posted on the DodgerVision screen for everyone in the stadium to see so the fact that they could quote it meant nothing at all. Morons.
Then one went so far as to call Dodger fans "bush league" because someone booed his precious little Vlad Guerrero. Oh, get over yourself. Booing is not bush league. A-Rod yelling ahhh/mine! might be bush league. A bunch of 10 year olds booing your best hitter at a ball game when he comes up to bat, get over it. Fucking Orange County. I felt like I was sitting in front of two White Joe Morgans. (Never mind that they protested several calls and taunted Schmidt throughout the entire game. It's acceptable for them, I suppose.)
more photos and ranting after the jump
Then they went off about why Angel Stadium is better than Dodger Stadium because you can bring your BBQ and grill hot dogs from the back of your 6MPG SUV. Well you still can't drink beer, and they actually have a beer patrol guy who drives around writing tickets for people who are drinking in the parking lot. And then you get a $175 ticket. I know this from experience. While Dodger Stadium says you can't tailgate, the number of people getting absolutely shitfaced in the parking lot would suggest that this rule is very poorly enforced. So if you're going to judge baseball teams by their parking lot limitations (which is completely inane, if you ask me), then you guys lose.
I did not turn around to mention that there is a Hooters at the "Big A of Anaheim," which is another thing that really pisses me off. As if women aren't alienated enough when it comes to sports and sports venues, to have an institution with pseudo-prostitutes like Hooters allowed 10 feet from the kids' play area seems just a little inappropriate. But I am getting off topic. I will save the "why the Big A of Anaheim sucks my ass" for another date.
About the 4th inning, our wanna-be Joe Morgan-Jon Miller team spilled about 48 ounces of sticky sweet Coke all over the ground, which of course ran down onto our shoes and also my camera bag with about $1000 of camera equipment in it. They waited about 20 seconds, then alerted us that they'd spilled Coke on us (a little late, jackasses, it's a fluid) and then offered us one napkin as a consolation prize. I didn't even turn around to refuse it, because I might have socked the guy in the face, or at least booed him (bush league).
They insisted Pierre was out on this play. No. He. Wasn't. I have proof. I almost started yelling at them over this one, but again, I kept my cool. Okay, and I was nursing a frozen lemonade and I didn't want it to melt.
This went on and on. They thought they were the greatest managers of all time. Every time one of the Angels took a strike, they would jump in and loudly validate all of the reasons why it was a good idea to take a strike at that particular moment. Then they offered soothing advice by shouting into my ear, "it's okay, that's okay, you're okay" for the poor player at the plate who, without their generous encouragement may have become severely depressed or self-critical and given up the sport of baseball altogether.
They then began to yell and shout that they felt certain this or that player would be forced out or this player couldn't hit an infield single. They were wrong 100% of the time. You would think with that sort of record, you would consider just shutting up. Nope.
Inevitably they took to trying to call every pitch before it was thrown. They were wrong 98% of the time. Then they would have to justify why their pitch would have been better, and tried to speculate why anyone would possibly want to throw anything else. This is an annoying guy thing. I'm not trying to be sexist, but I have never heard a woman do this. I know I don't. Because if I were better at calling pitches than the team's staff, why am I sitting in the stands and not on the field? Oh yeah. Because I'm not.
Okay, then Kotchman is standing pretty far off the 2nd base bag and Martin makes a throw to pick him off and it beans him in the head. (check out the 2nd photo for a kick ass shot) Whatever. It wasn't a bad throw. It was exactly where it should have been to put the tag on, but the dude's head gets in the way. That's why they wear helmets. But no, Jackass #1 and #2 stand up and start cursing at Russell Martin, booing and cursing (bush league style), calling him names and then speculating on all of the potential lineup changes that would result from Kotchman being on the DL for a while which they felt certain would happen because he'd been down for, oh, 2.8 seconds. "This will really hurt the team," they yelled. "Thanks Martin, for ruining our June!" Wah wah wah.
I tried to keep quiet because I know I am highly sensitive to jackasses when the Dodgers are losing, but the people around me (not even Dodger fans) were saying things like "I want the Dodgers to win just so you'll shut up." These two didn't care. They were so impressed with their own knowledge of baseball that they had to let the world know. "Did you know Martin is French-Canadian?!?!" Well, yes we do, asswads. That's why no one fucking asked.
I have been having a lot of trouble recently with sitting in front of know-it-all loghorrheic opposing team jackasses. There was a Blue Jays fan who was lucky to leave without my camera wedged up his ass. Another Cubs fan fortunately survived without having melted chocolate malt poured onto his balding head. A few others were so bad that I had to move myself to a different section to prevent a violent outburst. What is it with you people? Your penis is not any larger if you can tell everyone in the section what Gary Matthews Jr.'s batting average is while hitting in day games with RISP. We do not think more highly of you if you correctly predict the standings of the Western Division for the end of the season given that it's June and come September no one will look back and say "wow, that dumbfuck who was sitting behind me at the Dodger game 3 months ago was RIGHT!" So really, just shut up. At least keep quiet.
All photos taken by Malingering, who may watch Sportscenter or Pardon the Interruption but does not feel the need to parrot back everything she hears to the 28 fans within hearing range.
