Tribe

So the Indians and their fans are referred to as the Tribe. They were out in somewhat skimpy numbers yesterday at Progressive Field. (Friggin' corporate named fields. How am I supposed to differentiate between Quicken Loans Field, Invesco Field, Progressive Field, Conhugeco Stadium, and Blovent Infocorpse Arena? They all might as well be stadia for the Everywhereandnowhere Conglomerates.)

Anyway, the Indians ended up with a somewhat unjustified win. It wasn't quite a Cubs-level mess--after all, they won--but it was still a mess. The Indians were up 8-1 against the Twins. In the ninth, it was tied 9-9. Oops. In the 13th inning our loveable racist caricatures pulled out the victory.

Still, peanuts, a beer, and a ballgame. It's hard to object when you're being poked by a trident of all-American bliss.

The stadium is really cool--there are open sightlines even from behind the stands. I saw a biker gang there en masse, as well as a frail looking grandma in head-to-toe Indians wear clutching her score sheet. A couple of times, there was an on-field comical race between a red hot dog and a yellow and white one. White hot dog? I mean, maybe an uncooked veal brat, I guess. Then somebody said it was a competition between ketchup, mustard, and onions. Mustard won. This of course is only right.

Although they charge you $6.75 for a Bud Lite (BOO!), a Great Lakes Dortmunder Gold is 50 cents more. Worth the price upgrade I'd say. You can get a good local beer at the stadium, which is nice.

I was in the bleachers. They even have backs on the bleachers! Luxury even in the cheap seats. And they were cheap: $5 a head, AND it was $1 hot dog night. Plus you could buy day-of-game tickets, which I consider to be a big plus.

Last night was also the first time I've felt chilly in a while. Damn it all, I don't want summer to end.