The man in the red shirt was a good sport. As were pretty much all the people in red shirts I saw last night -- that is, those few who stayed after the third inning.
That's right -- Stronger Than Dirt made the White Sox-Cardinals game last nite! And, in contradiction to all the strange "Grinder Ball" slogans all over the ballpark this year (which I kept reading as "Gender Ball," probably due to ... uh JUST ENOUGH exposure to radical feminism over the last 20 years or so), this game was a slugfest, a laffer, a massa-cree.
Anyway, the score (20-6, ChiSox over St. Louie) isn't the point of the post -- it's the warm and cuddly message that the many, many Cards fans at the sold-out game were very likable, friendly, and cheerful -- and some of them even stayed for the whole thing. So I figure they must have all come up from Missouri. They certainly couldn't have come from Bloomington-Normal, or Champaign-Urbana, or Peoria, or Springfield, or Danville, or Decatur (or Clinton or Monticello or Tuscola or Arcola or Arthur or Charleston or Mattoon or Shelbyville or Mahomet or Rantoul etc. etc. etc. etc.), because every Downstate Illinois-based fan of the St. Louis Baseball Cardinals I ever met while living down there for six years was ... well, none of those nice things I just called the people visiting the ballyard at 35th and Shields last night. No, the Illinois Cards fans I came across were all pretty much jerks. Although hostile racist redneck Chicago-hating dickwads would probably be a more apt descriptor. Apparently those shitfucks all hate Chicago (or at least the South Side) so much that they stayed home. For that, I thank them.
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