OK, first of all, today is July 5th, so happy birthday to Huey Lewis.
Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's proceed. The Section Fivers (me, Kris, Mick, Eddie, Steve, and Jeremiah...along with a couple of ladies who are in trouble with us) gathered for an Independence Day blowout. Normally we don't have time for tailgating since we're all coming from work, but since everybody was off and it was a day game, it was time to rock out...
Mick, don't finish that sentence. Let it just sit there in the breeze...
Oh, as for the ladies, Liz and Christine have sat with us for several years and I exchanged emails with Christine about joining us for the frivolity. She was all for it...but then they pulled a no-show for the pregame. Then they sat with somebody else. Then they didn't show for the post-game.
We're beginning deportation procedures as we speak. They will be excommunicated from the good Church of Section Five, High Priest of the Sack of Nuts (that's me) presiding.
Anywho after a quick lunch whipped up by the J-Man (with an assist from Kris, who helped him put the grill together), we headed to the Big Ballpark. But first...
Mick had to ponder a few things. OK then.
More pictures from the day are here.
Oh, I almost forgot. It's quote of the day time! Now parents, hide the kiddies, because this is a BAD LANGUAGE ALERTT!
Phew...that's better. Mick was discussing hot dogs, when he enlightened us with the fact that he doesn't like his dogs with casings. Said Mick:
"I don't that condom shit." Or something like that. I warned them that I'd forget the exact quote, but you get the gist.
The game wasn't very good. The Yankees rocked the Sox early, to the tune of 3-0. Then the walls crashed in. Earlier in the week, upon seeing the pitching matchup, I told Kris and Mick that I didn't like the Bombers chances. Yep, right again. Darrell Rasner needs to work some things out, because he's just not up to it right now. I think all 55,130 people could see Mike Lowell's home run coming from a mile away.
The Yankees just couldn't get it done and have a woeful team. Amazing what $208 million can buy, no?
To make matters worse, the skies opened up in the later innings, and a rain delay stopped things. After hanging around for a bit in the concourse, ostensibly to see if two ladies showed up, we called it a day, and headed out. J-Man, Steve and Eddie had things to do, so Mick, Kris and I joined the lovely Gretchen (Mick's wife and, sadly, a Sox fan - the only thing wrong with her) for a post-game dinner. That dinner was held at a particular establishment where attractive ladies wear "dolphin" shorts and may perhaps flirt incessantly. They might also put on a talent show, which would have all been fine if we didn't all have headaches.
Kris and I headed for home after dinner and upon our return to Carmel, discovered that Mick's phone was sitting in his back seat. Yo Mick! How are we going to get it back to you?
Happy Birthday, America!
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