Holy Shit, I'm Going to a Baseball Game!

Yup, I sure am. And I couldn't be more excited. Excited enough to go against my own "no scattered ass" rule? You bet your divine ass, Megan Fox. She agrees that rule is horseshit, and rules are made to be broken. Just like the rules of common decency I would break were we to share an elevator.

As it turns out, Alex Rios is about as frustrating to write about as he is to watch, so that post will have to wait for another day. Instead, let's revel in the knowledge that the Reverend and I will be imbibing ales and shouting jingoist slurs tomorrow afternoon. Despite our efforts to acquire tickets to Italy v Venezuela (I wonder how many of the Woodbridge brigade will be there decked out in Bargnani Jerseys? None? I wonder if "their team" having no shot of winning will cut down on the amount of Viva Italia-ing?), we're going to settle for Canada versus Team America. I'm hoping for a Phillipe Aumont sighting, though I worry for his chances. Apparently the kid is raw, but with nutty stuff. Russell Martin is so awesome that I may just run down on the field to give him a kiss. On the US side, I look forward to asking many questions of Shane "No Questions Asked" Victorino and booing Adam Dunn lustily.

While it's not the Jays, it is something. I wish there were more Jays playing. (sorry Ian, Scott Richmond doesn't count.) It's nice to hear Scott Downs was at least offered a chance to play (h/t Drunk Jays Fans) after I stumped for him not long ago. So if you're in the neighbourhood, come on by and buy me a beer. Maybe even two. We'll be in section I have no fucking clue, proudly sitting down during the national anthem. I like baseball more than nationstates.