I managed to bag the relentless coverage of the DNC and get down to Victory Field for an Indians game. Thanks to the good folks at Sheil Sexton who spotted us in line at the box office and shared some tickets. They were celebrating Gretchen Appreciation Night with hand held Gretchen masks. I don’t personally know Gretchen, but her masks seemed quite popular. Especially with the kids in my row.

Gretchen wasn’t the only entertainment, however. Oh sure, there was a game going on, but the Tribe gave up 4 runs early and were down 7-0 mid way through the 5th. They made a game of it scoring 5 runs, but it’s been a long year for Indians.

The most entertainment came from a couple of guys to our left that we dubbed them Satan and the Fat Man. One was wearing a basketball jersey and shorts. Let’s just say he wasn’t built for the outfit. Or, the outfit wasn’t built for him. Either way, he was a largish man, with many pounds on his frame. And, his many pounds were trying to escape from the basketball jersey.

His sidekick had a giant Satan tattoo on his leg.  He was sporting a very scary t-shirt (some sort of mental patient in anguish) and a mullet. What possesses you to get a Satan tattoo? Satan? Actually, I think the answer is no. I’m no expert on the Prince of Darkness, but I’m guessing that having his image tattooed on some mullet wearing redneck’s leg isn’t one of the great accomplishments he’s bragging about in hell.  I bet he’s never sat around at some high level demon business meeting and said, “you know that scrawny mullet wearing guy up in Indy that smells like cheese? Yeah, I’m on his left calf.”

Carry on, Citizens!

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