FatherDub and myself headed to Detroit last Friday for a Tigers-Kansas City Royals game. What started out as an evening of soaking in some late season baseball turned into a night of drunken idiocy.
We first headed to historic Tiger Stadium to say goodbye to the place since it will likely soon be torn down. The last game was played there in 1999. And it opened in 1912. It's pretty worn down.
Standing at the corner of Michigan and Trumbull (where Tiger Stadium is located) I told FatherDub I should steal a brick from the road. Oh, the foreshadowing.
We ventured to Cheli's Chili Bar, a huge restaurant and bar across the street from Comerica Park, for some pregame beers and grub. It's owned by Detroit Red Wings player Chris Chelios. It was flowing with hotties, big black security guards who looked like former Lions offensive linemen, and drunk people. I also found a few Royals fans, who completely wasted their time and money to see their crappy team play out of state.
Next was picking up our tickets at Will Call. I actually found half of the Royals fanbase standing in line.
Then it was into the ballpark. This entrance resembles a pirate ship.
Here's a shot from the upper deck. Ford Field, where the Lions play, is literally built on the next block.
This is my thigh, which is much less pasty than Bill Simmons'.
By the seventh inning, things were starting to get blurry. I didn't know how much I drank until FatherDub informed me I pounded six 24 ouncers. Upon this realization, I darted to the nearest beer vendor to buy two more before they shut down for the game.
I found Sparky Anderson.
This drunk moron tried for about three innings to get the wave going. It never made out of his section. He was persistent, though, and that's what really counts.
After the game and a few more beers at Cheli's, I talked FatherDub into driving us to The Corner, where I bravely ran in front of traffic and to the shock of many onlookers to grab one of these.
The blue chards in the plastic baggie are paint chips from Tiger Stadium.