New Friends/Old Enemies

Just a quick thing about the Rod Allen post: Take a joke, kids. Of course it's hard to call a baseball game. Everything a guy says isn't going to be perfect. I'm just having a bit 'o' fun with Mr. Rod Allen. And I'll probably do it again. If you're looking for a blog featuring nothing but rah-rah Rick Reilly stuff, you're in the wrong place. Loosen up, people. I love my team and I make fun of those I love. I learned that from Jeffrey Ross. For some reason, you're on a blog called DesigNate Robertson. We will not be discussing whether or not Ryan Raburn is prettier than Josh Anderson. We will, however, be trying to have some fun and occasionally being cocky...all while loving the Detroit Tigers.

Whew. With that out of the way, I went to my second Tigers game of the year last night and they brought their all-important record with me in attendance up to 1-1. JV was outstanding for seven innings and Maggs put one out again. Part of my weird love of Bobby Higginson was him almost always seemingly hitting a homer when I went to a game. Magglio's kind of taken that role over and that's a big reason why I love the goofball. Bobby Seay continued to be perfect and Polonco hit two doubles. A fun night for everyone, it was.

I also got to meet two other members of the Tiger blogosphere last night in Blake from The Spotstarters and Jen from Old English D. Both were very nice people and I hope to see them at the ballpark again in the future.

But, sadly, there were a few people at the game that I almost ALWAYS see and I'm kind of sick of it. I'm sure you know these people, too. Any chance we can get rid of the following?

-The old guy begging for change out front chanting "eat em up Tigers, eat em up" over and over again? Learn a new song, buddy. That's almost as annoying as "April in the D".

-The fat girl in the Inge jersey. Ugh...go away.

-The drunk guy screaming over and over for the section to start the wave. Meanwhile, Seay's pitching his ass off with two on and no out, but I've got this clown yelling "1, 2, 3" over and over. Screw the wave. You're the reason beer stops being sold early at ballgames, buddy.

-The slutty girl in the Inge jersey. How old are you? Fifteen? Put some pants on.

-The guys sitting behind two eight year olds that can't go one sentence without using the "f" word three times. Now, myself, I'm a big fan of the "f" word. Just not with little kids around. Even I'm classier than that.

-The guy accusing every player on the field of being on steroids. Get over it, dude. You'd have done it in their shoes, too.

-Fernando Rodney.

Okay, two more with the Yanks. Keep up the good work, kids.