Saturday, July 24, 2010
Twelve Baseball Fans That Annoy Me
No...not her. Not this time.
I was lucky enough to attend Thursday’s 5-2 Tiger victory over the Blue Jays of Toronto. This brought the Detroit win-loss record with me in attendance this year to a flawless 3-0 so far, by the way. I rule. Anyway, it was a beautiful day, perfect weather, and I got to see in person, once again, why Justin Verlander is all sorts of awesome. Miguel Cabrera and Johnny Damon, too.
But of course, no silver lining in Your Party Host’s world comes without several clouds. In this case, it was the people I was surrounded by. I love attending games at Comerica Park. Love it. But the idiots that insist on joining me in watching my baseball team run around the field never fail to get on my nerves to the point where I want to see several of them torn apart by wild dogs. Am I overreacting? You be the judge.
The following are a dozen fans that I always seem to come into contact with at baseball games that irritate me. And yes, I swear, there were examples of each of these survived abortions at Thursday’s game. See if you recognize anyone.
1. The seat jumper. There was this heavily tattooed bald guy and his girlfriend (that looked like she had more miles on her than Al Bundy’s Dodge) that I personally saw get kicked out of three different sets of seats by the rightful ticket holders…all before the fourth inning. I mean, if it’s late in the game and you move closer to that action where no one’s been sitting…I can understand that. But these pricks just kept sitting wherever and were actually getting upset at being asked to move. Unlike most Tiger games I’ve been to, the ushers were non-existent at this game. Luckily, no one was shot, as I’m almost positive this guy had to be carrying a gun.
2. The bad parent. In the row in front of me, there was a father and his three sons, all heavily clad in Blue Jays gear. They were from Canada and were very quiet and polite, like most Canadians I’ve met. But the prick father, at two different times, got up and left his kids (the oldest of which couldn’t have been more than 12) by themselves for at least twenty minutes at a time. Maybe I’m overprotective of my own kid, but I’m not leaving my demon seed unattended at the playground, let alone in the city of Detroit. I watch too much CSI, Unsolved Mysteries, and the scariest show of all: The Evening News, I guess. Luckily for them, my buddy that went to the game with me was also a Jays fan and took it upon himself to look out for the little maple syrup drinking bastards.
3. Old people. I admit, I’m a bit biased against our country’s senior citizens. Working in the service industry, old folks are known to be rude, they run you ragged, they complain about everything, and they’re horrible tippers. Terrible people, in most cases. And maybe it’s because I haven’t attended that many 1pm games, but I’ve never seen so many people that resembled walking corpses at Comerica Park. Normally, the fat girls in Brandon Inge jerseys outnumber the blue-haired fossils 10 to 1, but this time the numbers were reversed.
There was this one confused, lost old lady that stood in the aisle with her mouth hanging open for a good ten minutes, staring at her ticket and then at the seats. She had no idea where she was. I considered helping her myself, but that would be breaking my iron clad rule of minding my own business in public, as well as my other rule of being nice to old people without being paid for it. So, instead, I was actually looking around for one of the missing ushers after a while (who I assumed were ignoring her because she happened to be black) when one of the young Canadian children (bless him) finally got up, looked at her ticket, and told her where she was supposed to sit (only three more rows up). She still took another ten minutes to find her seat. Five minutes later, I saw her wandering off once again, to God knows where.
After the game, we had to stand in the aisle for ten minutes, not moving. Apparently, some ancient codger had fallen or something at the top of the stairs and we had to wait for someone to stand him up without breaking his hip. I’m too busy for this stuff. Call me heartless, but people over 75 should be put to sleep unless a panel of experts can agree that they can still be of use to society in some way. I know I would want someone to smother me with a pillow if I was being such a bother to others.
(Note to sensitive/new readers to the blog: I'm kidding. Maybe.)
4. Fat people. I bet I saw at least six guys at the game that had to be pushing 400 lbs. I couldn’t help but see the uncomfortable looks on the faces of the poor folks that were unlucky enough to be sitting scrunched up next to these piles of lard that were no doubt cooking in the July sunshine. Look, I’m not a skinny person. But I’m not a walking condominium, either. Stay home and eat your own weight in pork rinks, Lunchbox. Okay? You know you want to.
5. Jerkoffs that wear Tiger jerseys with their own last name on the back. One of my favorite pastimes at the ballpark is checking out what jerseys people are wearing. Justin Verlander was the most popular choice at this particular game. It made sense since he was pitching. There were also their fair share of Cabreras, Inges, and Boesches scattered around the stadium. I saw the obligatory Higginson jersey that made me smile that someone else still remembers my hero. My personal favorite at this game was the rare Tettleton jersey. But I have never seen so many jerseys with a familiar number, but an unfamiliar name above it. Why do people do this? Do they feel like they’re on the team this way? Is this helping them live out some unfulfilled childhood fantasy in some way? People should not be allowed into the ballpark wearing such faulty gaming attire.
One last thing on these folks. It was a self-named jersey guy that after the game was finished did another thing that I detest at sporting events. As we’re exiting the stadium, some guy with an unpronounceable Polish last name over his #7 started screaming “Blue Jays suck” at the top of his lungs in the faces of several people in Jays attire that walked past him. I hate this. Show a bit of class, dude, especially since your team just had a seven-game losing streak. It takes guts to wear your team’s colors in another city. I respect that in people. In fact, a friend of mine wore a Tigers jersey to Cleveland once. After the game, he happened to see Jim Thome (still with the Tribe at the time) at a bar in the Flats. He approached Thome, complimented him on his play, and asked for an autograph. Thome looked him up and down and said, “You’ve got a lot of balls wearing that in here.” He signed a ticket stub, shook my friend’s hand, and wished him well. That’s class. I’m always respectful of out-of-towners.
Well, unless we lose. Then I tell them to get raped by a grizzly bear.
More whining after the jump. Join me.
6. The unhelpful of the handicapped. Oddly enough, as much as I cannot stand the elderly, I have a soft spot in my cold, black heart for the physically and/or mentally handicapped. It’s not their fault that they have special needs. There was this one girl in a wheelchair trying to make her way out of our section after the game and I stopped the line of folks behind us so she could get through. Meanwhile, there’s a stream of jerks coming from the side that kept cutting in front of this girl. As my anger was reaching homicidal levels, one of ushers finally decided to do their job and made the pricks stop cutting the girl off. I mean, Jesus tap dancing Christ…what is wrong with people these days?
7. Shirtless guy. There was this guy in his forties, always with a beer in his hand, that kept getting up and walking around. Annoying, but whatever. But what pissed me off is the fact that he didn’t wear a shirt the entire game. Luckily, it wasn’t one of the 400 pound guys, but still. He’s sweating and stinking and bumping into other people. How inconsiderate can you get?
8. Assface that won’t sit down. The beer and hot dog vendors are bad enough. But there was this guy that kept standing up in the middle of play and would stand there for minutes at a time. Being 6’4, I’m one of the lucky ones that could look around this twit, but several people had to constantly move around to not miss anything. Finally, the negligent Canadian parent (of all people) tapped the guy on the shoulder and politely asked him to sit down so everyone could enjoy the game. At the time, I thought this redeemed him for abandoning his children earlier in the game, but then he got up and did it again, pissing me off for good at him.
9. People that keep getting up during play forcing everyone in the row to stand up. The idiot brother/sister of the jackoff that keeps standing up would be this person. A woman in our row got up at least six times during the game to go off and piss, buy nachos, change her tampon…whatever. Now the etiquette that I was always taught is to get up in between innings, not while the action is going on. Not this broad. Again and again, I had to stand up and let her stumble by to go off and, no doubt, do important things. Each time, I couldn’t help imagining stabbing her in the temple with a screwdriver. Sadly, I had left my Phillips-head at home for this game.
10. Loud talking idiot. Usually, in my experiences, this is normally a fat guy, usually Italian. They’re so loud that everyone five rows in front and behind can hear everything they say. And it’s almost always stupid, ignorant nonsense about the game. The odd thing during this game was that the idiot in question was a woman, for a change. The woman’s voice was incredibly loud and the only way I can think to describe it would be to say that it was “very Jewish”. Let me be clear, I do not mean that in any racist sort of way, but it’s the best I can come up with. But this lady would NOT SHUT UP, inning after inning. The point where I almost turned around and choked her to death with her own purse strings was in the fourth inning when OVER AND OVER she kept saying “I thought Verlander was pitching today…why isn’t Verlander pitching?” Verlander was, in fact, pitching, had indeed been pitching the entire time, but at this point, the Tigers were batting and THAT was why Verlander was not on the mound! You f-cking f-ck! It’s a good thing I medicated myself with beer at Hockeytown before the game…
11. The wave starter. 90% of the time, this is some inbred, drunk frat boy. Oh, how I loathe these people. There is very little in American sports that I hate more than the wave. It is 2010, people. Is the wave still entertaining to any sane individual? You can always see the annoyed looks on normal people’s faces when this asswipe stands up and keeps yelling “one…two…THREE, woooooooo” and expects 40,000 people to start doing the wave. People like this are why you aren’t served beer in glass bottles at ballgames. They make perfect weapons to assault annoying people with.
12. I leave you with the person that deserves more scorn than perhaps anyone…the early leaver. The Tigers made a great comeback to take a 5-2 lead going into the ninth. Papa Grande can be seen doing his spitting routine at the door of the bullpen and rumbles to the mound with his music playing. I’m getting pumped at seeing The Big Potato close out a ballgame and dance like only his fat ass can dance. Meanwhile, dozens of pricks are scampering for the exits. Why did you even come? This isn’t LA. Traffic in Detroit isn’t that bad, even at rush hour anymore. No one works in Detroit. Come on! Show some team loyalty, people!
Well, that’s about it. I know there’s several other annoying mouth breathing fools that attend games. Feel free to share any of your least favorites. These were just the dozen that stood out from Thursday’s affair and venting is always good for the soul. Enjoy your weekend, kids.
Oh, and if by some odd chance you were at the game and happen to be one of these folks? Do us all a favor. Stop by the closest Sunoco or BP station. Go to the clerk and buy $5.00 worth of gas. Hold the pump up and cover yourself with the fuel. Then, light a match.
The world will be a better place…at least for me.