...but the Giants did not lose, they
ended up beating Arizona 4-0 last night at
SBC Park, and yours truly was there with his trusty camera.
I'll start from the beginning...my eye was feeling a little better, and I decided to put my contacts in for a few hours since there was NO WAY I was going to wear my old, crooked, outdated glasses to the game. Besides, I can't see very well with them, and with my contacts I have 20-15 pilot vision. (sorry, Dr. Trambley...vanity prevails)
I'm paying for it today, but my eye is continuing to heal, even if it burns a bit from the antibiotic I have to smear on my eyeball 5 times a day. Feh.
My friend Greg called me up and asked me if I wanted to go to the Giants game.
"Hey homogay," he said. That's what he calls me.
"Hey."
"Wanna see a Giants game?"
"Hell yeah, I love Giants games."
"Meet me at the statue of Willie Mays at 6:45."
"Okay, how much is the ticket?"
"Don't worry about it."
Greg is cool like that. He's my other gearhead friend here in town, and we once took a trip from San Francisco to Missoula, Montana in an Audi 200 Quattro with no heat in the middle of the winter, right after we had just met on craigslist. He was looking for a roadtrip companion, and I stepped up to the plate. But that's a completely different blog entry...I'll write it later.
So after we got our $8 Anchor Steam beer, $4.75 peanuts, and $6.25 hot dogs, we sat down. Greg is going to hate me for posting this photograph, but I love it...he's the one in the hat. His friend John is sitting next to him:
That's the face Greg makes when he has a stomach full of Anchor Steam.
His friend Sarah was sitting next to me. This is Sarah:
Shortly after I took this photo, she and I burst into a impromptu rendition of the
theme to Family Ties, complete with the "Sha-la-la-la" at the end, and of course, "Sit, Ubu, sit! Good dog! WOOF!"
The guys in front of us turned around and looked at us funny, so we decided to actually pay attention to the game.
That's
Arizona Diamondbacks player
Troy Glaus there. Nice butt.
I've always hated that Coke bottle...it's so stupid. What's the point? It just looks like a giant piece of litter someone left there. Like some giant San Franciscan dropped it there. A San Francisco Giant. Har-de-har-har. Someone should lose their job or at least be fined for putting it there in the first place. At any rate, I wish a giant
Sunset Scavenger truck would pull up and take it away for recycling.
The mitt is cool, though. I'm coo wit the mitt.
We were so high up, you could see Oakland. I'd just like to take this opportunity to give a big "HOW YOU DURRIN" to my friends over in that cute little area code known as The 510.
John and I decided to go get some more Anchor Steams and hot dogs. The lighting was so gorgeous at sunset on those upper decks of SBC Park...and he looked so handsome. I made him pose for a photo...I hope his boyfriend likes it:
These people are waiting for balls to come flying their way...that's McCovey Cove behind them. Anytime a ball gets knocked into the drink, there's a mad scramble for it:
Now that
Barry Bonds isn't
doing steroids anymore, not as many balls go flying in their faces.
Get it?
Okay, that was just dirty.
Speaking of which, at one point, John and I were talking about porn stars. He asked me if I had ever heard of
Matthew Rush (speaking of steroids). Of course I have! I'm gay, aren't I? He went on to say how big Matthew's penis was. Emboldened by the three Anchor Steams in my stomach, I blurted out, "Oh, huge cocks are
SO overrated!" in a very loud Outside Voice when perhaps I should have used my Inside Voice to say that.
"Gee Chad," said John, laughing hysterically, "could you have said that any louder?"
Apparently not.
I then realized, hey Chad Fox, you're not in the Castro, you're at SBC Park. Shame on you! Watch your mouth! I looked at the people sitting in front of me, who wrinkled their noses and blinked at each other. They probably did not appreciate my Matthew Rush huge cock comment. I clapped my hands over my mouth and blushed as Greg and John practically pissed their pants.
Great. Now the homos behind them were giggling and making tatas in their panties. That's what happens when you let homogays to go baseball games.
The game ended, and we all went out front to Willie Mays Plaza. Greg and Rose, apparently still in a sporting mood, started a game of Giggle and Grabass:
Sarah was having none of it:
Neither were Joanna and Bob:
Yet they continued:
By the way, Greg is gay. Very, very gay. He's not just gay, he's a homogay. Just thought I'd clarify.
And that wrapped up the baseball game. Now, if you're wondering WHY we're all bundled up like we're going to a
Cleveland Browns game in the middle of November, it's because this is San Francisco, and it doesn't get warm here in the summer, especially at night. In fact, it gets hellamotherfucking cold here, especially when the fog rolls in and the wind kicks up. It's like natural air conditioning...while Oakland and the rest of the East Bay swelters, we're nice and cool over in the 415.
Hey, at least it's good sleeping weather.