Jesus, Grimace, Me and the Reds
More than 6 weeks ago Grim e-mails me with an offer too good to refuse, he has an extra ticket to the Reds/Astros game and was wondering if I'd like to go? You talkin' to me? YOU TALKIN' TO ME? I jumped on it faster than a donut shop waitress on a five dollar tip. A couple of days ago I find out that the great Roger Clemons is pitching for the Astros turning an already good deal into a must-see event. How much longer would we have to witness first hand the great talent of a Roger Clemons before he changes his mind and once again retires? One other factoid worth noting is that this is my very first experience at a professional baseball game. I know, I don't get out much. Never seen a pro football game either but that's beside the point.
We met at a burger joint in Dayton where I picked Grim up and quickly headed down Highway 75 for Cincinnati. That part of the drive took about 45 minutes and we soon found ourselves following the traffic which took us straight to The Great American Ballpark. Instead of trying to find a cheap place to park I just ducked into the first parking garage I saw and forked over the ten bucks. It would have been hell to attempt to save a few dollars while roasting in the southern Ohio heat. We just wanted to get out of the car and be on our way into the stadium. As we disembarked from the car I mentioned to Grim how great it would be if Clemons were to pitch a perfect game today. He gave me an odd look, yes, I do expect a lot dammit.
We made our way into the very impressive stadium passing the huge gaping hole next door that used to be Riverfront Stadium, the site of so many great Reds victories, the place where they made their reputations as one of the best teams in baseball. I was starving so we stopped at a food kiosk to pick up a hot dog and a Coke. This would tide me over for the rest of the day. Our seats beckoned and we were soon hearing the roar of the crowd as the teams took the field. We were relatively close to the right field foul pole, about 50 feet away with a sweeping view of the entire stadium. Nice seats.
To make a long story short, Roger Clemons had a great day. He pitched seven innings of shutout ball and was two for three at bat with a single and ground rule double. The Astros eventually won 9-0.
One little note of inspiration. On the way down Highway 75 we passed a roadside ministry with a HUGE statue of Jesus lifting his outstretched hands to the heavens. We couldn't tell which team this was an omen for, I guess the Astros feel lucky to have his blessing for the day. By the way, we both now refer to this display as Ostentacious Jesus or O.J. for short. It's nice to be on a first name basis with our Lord and Saviour. Makes me feel special.
But something bothered both me and Grim. Why didn't the Flying Spaghetti Monster have a similar tribute? He did create the world and everything in it with his Noodly Appendage. We both felt a growing feeling of unfairness and injustice in all this. The Church of His Noodly Appendage MUST be established to spread the word. The truth. A blessing to baseball teams everywhere, a messiah that they can all pray to for strength to win the game. He deserves this. His blessed little Noodly Appendage deserves no less. Play ball.
We met at a burger joint in Dayton where I picked Grim up and quickly headed down Highway 75 for Cincinnati. That part of the drive took about 45 minutes and we soon found ourselves following the traffic which took us straight to The Great American Ballpark. Instead of trying to find a cheap place to park I just ducked into the first parking garage I saw and forked over the ten bucks. It would have been hell to attempt to save a few dollars while roasting in the southern Ohio heat. We just wanted to get out of the car and be on our way into the stadium. As we disembarked from the car I mentioned to Grim how great it would be if Clemons were to pitch a perfect game today. He gave me an odd look, yes, I do expect a lot dammit.
We made our way into the very impressive stadium passing the huge gaping hole next door that used to be Riverfront Stadium, the site of so many great Reds victories, the place where they made their reputations as one of the best teams in baseball. I was starving so we stopped at a food kiosk to pick up a hot dog and a Coke. This would tide me over for the rest of the day. Our seats beckoned and we were soon hearing the roar of the crowd as the teams took the field. We were relatively close to the right field foul pole, about 50 feet away with a sweeping view of the entire stadium. Nice seats.
To make a long story short, Roger Clemons had a great day. He pitched seven innings of shutout ball and was two for three at bat with a single and ground rule double. The Astros eventually won 9-0.
One little note of inspiration. On the way down Highway 75 we passed a roadside ministry with a HUGE statue of Jesus lifting his outstretched hands to the heavens. We couldn't tell which team this was an omen for, I guess the Astros feel lucky to have his blessing for the day. By the way, we both now refer to this display as Ostentacious Jesus or O.J. for short. It's nice to be on a first name basis with our Lord and Saviour. Makes me feel special.
But something bothered both me and Grim. Why didn't the Flying Spaghetti Monster have a similar tribute? He did create the world and everything in it with his Noodly Appendage. We both felt a growing feeling of unfairness and injustice in all this. The Church of His Noodly Appendage MUST be established to spread the word. The truth. A blessing to baseball teams everywhere, a messiah that they can all pray to for strength to win the game. He deserves this. His blessed little Noodly Appendage deserves no less. Play ball.
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