The view from our seats yesterday, right behind first base. That's Pujols at bat again, I think.
This is the kind of sophmoric photo you get after you do way too many Jag-bombs at the bar before the game. (By the way, that's my buddy Frakes.)
My husband who, after a long night on the town, actually starts to kind of resemble Mark Bellhorn. Scary. (That's my Pats jersey he's wearing. Grrrrrrr.)
I saw my first live grand slam last night off of the bat of pinch-hitter Barry Larkin. That was really cool. I also saw my boy Wily Mo Peña rob a home run out in centerfield - that was probably the best play I've ever seen in person. (I wish that Wily Mo and Jose Acevedo were on the Sox, they're the only two Reds players I like and I feel sort of bad for them being stuck in this town on this team.) I also got the opportunity to heckle that cheesy fraud Gabe White, who gave up a homerun, a double, and a basehit to the first three batters of his "relief" appearance. All in all it was a good night, but I just wish I didn't drink quite so much.
And the closest I got to watching the Sox game last night was watching the scoreboard at the Great American ballpark. That game went FAST. When the Reds game was in the third inning, the Sox/Orioles game was already in the sixth. And what the fuck is up with Manny??? He burned me on Sunday night - my husband and I each picked a player who we thought would have a good game. I'm like "Manny's definitely due." He sucked. Who did my husband pick? Johnny "Three-Run Homer" Damon. He picked it up a little in that first game against the Orioles, but then K'd three times LOOKING last night. Goddamn.