Opening Day in Detroit with Your Party Host

You can go anywhere and read a detailed account of Friday’s Detroit Tiger home opener against the Indians. But here at DesigNate Robertson, I feel the need to give you a different account of the day’s action. You see, the plan was to arrive in Detroit early and take in the sights, sounds, and whatnot of Opening Day. But plans, they have a way of unraveling, as you may have experienced yourself at times.

So, join me on a day full of nonsense, as only Your Party Host can bring it to you. Perhaps you can relate to some of what I experienced. Along with me on this journey were my friends whose names will be changed to protect their “innocence”. With me was “Curtis” and his girlfriend “Polly”. Also along for the ride was the man with the tickets. We will call him “Fernando”. Ha.

6:45- Alarm goes off. Curse a lot for not going to bed sooner.

6:51- Text from Curtis asking if I am awake. I respond with expletives and question his sexuality, as most insecure heterosexual males are prone to do. This continues for several minutes.

7:00- Curtis texts me that he and Polly are making breakfast for us all once Fernando picks me up at 7:30. Bacon is promised. Your Party Host is pleased.

7:20- According to Yahoo, weather in Detroit is supposed to be in the 50’s. I opt out of my normal ballpark attire of a Bobby Higginson jersey to wear a Tigers t-shirt and a Tigers hoodie, hoping that I won’t be too warm during the game. Remember that part.

7:35- No word from Fernando. Curtis and I have both texted and called him. We planned on being in Detroit by 9:30. Urge to kill: rising.

7:38- Call Fernando again. Leave angry voicemail.

7:39- Kick my roommate’s cat.

7:55- I text Fernando’s roommate. No response. Urge to kill: nearing maximum levels.

8:10- Still no word from Fernando. Curtis and I start planning his murder. Polly is a nurse and may have ways that cannot be detected easily. I am intrigued by this idea.

8:25- Fernando lives on the top floor of a duplex-type place down the street from me. I consider taking a boom box and stand outside his window, “Say Anything” style, and playing the stupid “April in the D” song until he wakes up.

8:42- Call Fernando again. No answer. Begin sharpening knives.

9:10- Curtis and Polly are pissed and on their way. Since Fernando has the tickets, we agree that if he doesn’t contact us by 10:00, we’ll just find a bar in town to watch the game at. More plans for his murder are discussed, as well.

9:17- Fernando finally calls me. He slept through his alarm. This excuse does not work for me. Curtis got loaded at the Mud Hens home opener the night before and was able to wake up. I worked until 2am and watched Lady Gaga Youtube videos until 5am and was able to wake up. I tell him to hurry the fudge up and get over.

9:30- I am suddenly happy again as my television is showing the replay of the first ever game at Comerica Park. Bobby just hit a two-run triple. I cheer until remembering my current situation.

9:34- Curtis texts me the idea of killing Fernando anyway, once we get the tickets. For the first time in recorded history, I am the voice of reason. I am pretty upset that I am going to miss out on my bacon-filled breakfast, though.

9:36- Fernando arrives. Then, he realizes that he left his phone at home and has to go back for it. I facepalm until Curtis and Polly arrive.

9:39- Curtis and Polly pull up. I hop in and inform them about the forgotten phone. The “f” word is said a lot.

9:41- Fernando returns and is subjected to the amount of cursing that would make a sailor blush. We finally leave. It seems colder than expected, I remember thinking.

9:46- I see snowflakes and begin cursing God.

10:40- We begin to smell Detroit. Seriously.

11:07- We have arrived and after fifteen minutes of driving though alleyways and apparent crack dens, we reach our parking spot. We again yell at Fernando about missing out on the pregame partying that we planned on doing. He seems to not understand why we are angry.

11:30- We have our first drinks at what I believe was the “Sportstown Grill”. I was hoping to stop by the State Bar or Hockeytown, but both are insanely busy. And we arrived quite late, did I mention that?

11:40- A hot broad in a Bacardi referee shirt gives Polly and I Detroit Tiger Bacardi shirts. This is the greatest moment of my life as it includes my three favorite things in the world: Bacardi rum, the Tigers, and a hot blonde. I inform Fernando that he is forgiven.

11:45- I spot a guy wearing a Brandon Inge hat. I consider smothering him with my new shirt. “It’s not worth it”, I keep telling myself.

12:00- At this point, let me explain something that we in the bar business refer to as “Amateur Night”. Days like St. Patrick’s Day, New Year’s Eve, and the night before Thanksgiving are called “Amateur Night” by us because everyone and their brother thinks they are supposed to drink that day and they end up infesting bars like the filthy rodents they are. They are loud, obnoxious, and cannot handle their booze. They also seem to multiply like rabbits. Opening Day anywhere is the “Amateur Night” of baseball, no matter where you go. The bar we are in has become shoulder-to-shoulder and I decide I have seen enough and go outside while my friends finish their drinks.

12:11- A guy in a Dontrelle Willis jersey trips and falls in the street. I speculate that we may have been better off keeping Nate Robertson on the team.

12:15- I invent a new game. People keep coming up to me asking for directions. So, I start pretending to know what I am talking about and tell them how to get places that I’ve never heard of. The less people around, the happier I am.

12:21- I get a call from work. They want me to come in. I begin laughing.

12:24- I stop laughing and explain that I cannot come in.

12:27- We arrive at Comerica Park. A guy in a Brandon Inge jersey keeps bothering everyone asking where he can buy cigars. Somehow, I blame Inge for this guy being born.

12:33- I see a fat chick in an Inge jersey for the first time in 2010. The first of many, I’m afraid.

12:40- Our seats suck. And it is very cold. At least they were free tickets.

12:42- My seat happens to be next to what appears to be Larry the Cable Guy and his twin brother. They are quite drunk already. Great.

12:47- Tiger players are being introduced. Verlander, Cabrera, Ordonez, and Inge get the loudest cheers from the crowd. You could hear a pin drop when Phil Coke was brought out. Jose Valverde gets booed. I am annoyed with my fellow Tiger fans on that one. No one deserves to be booed on Opening Day. Well, except for Don Kelly.

12:48- Larry and his twin are loudly talking about how they have never heard of Max Scherzer and that he must be a rookie. Sigh.

12:58- Some clown from American Idol sings the National Anthem. Tim Allen is out to assist several military servicemen with the first pitch ceremonies. I am reminded of an old Chris Rock bit during Allen’s involvement. “Even in our finest moment, we got a crackhead up on stage.”

1:03- Game time. The temperature is announced as 38 degrees. The wind is insane in the third deck. I start hating life again.

1:05- A ballgame was played. I can’t tell you what happened because my eyes froze like Audrey’s did in “Christmas Vacation”. Go to a real website if you want that info.

The Tigers won and I was happy. We ended up back at Polly’s house for food and drinks. I went home, took a nap, and ended up out on the town once again for booze, illegal activities, and nonsense.

Finally, Fernando is still alive, if you were wondering. But next time, Polly will have a syringe ready.