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21 May 2010
Hello there my fairweather friends! I'm safely back home from my annual Maycation, and perhaps even more impressive, spent two nights in downtown Detroit without witnessing a single stabbing, robbery, or exploding salt shaker.
I attended this year's Tigers/Yankees series, as I did last year, with a long-time friend, fellow baseball guy and (cough) Yankee fan... let's call him Fuzzy. As always, the real kickoff to the trip happens when you pass Big Butter Jesus, just south of Dayton, OH. We pitched around different slogans, or mottos if you will, for this dairy encased savior and I must say, the cake goes to Fuzz, with "I can't believe it's not Jesus!" 
Despite an hour long delay south of Toledo, we finally reached the Michigan state line 2 hours before first pitch of the ESPN Wednesday night game. Incidentally, Michigan, changing your welcome sign from "Welcome to Michigan" to "PURE MICHIGAN" doesn't really do anything other than highlight the fact that you're spending tax dollars on image, rather than job creation. Good work. At least your most prominent mayor wasn't recently indicted... oh what's that? Woops.
During this part of the trip, we were able to catch Game 1 of the Day/Night doubleheader (dubbed 'the Nooner' by Fuzz). NOTE: Do not, under any circumstances, set yourself up in a car, listening to a Yankees game, with a Yankees fan, while they are losing.
Once in Detroit, we check into our way-too-nice-for-these-assholes-but-purchased-on-Expedia-for-dirt-cheap hotel, The Greektown Hotel and Casino, broke into the moderately priced mini-bar, and started the 3 block walk to Cheli's Rooftop, which provides a pretty amazing view of the ballpark, Ford Field, and the downtown Detroit skyline. Having traveled in the post-May-1 era, there is no longer smoking allowed at a bar... outside. Thanks for that, assholes.
Pure Michigan. Someone tell that to the drunk homeless man in a wheelchair that was just tossed out into the street by a huge-boobed Cheli's waitress, all of 5'4", 110 lbs. Now that, my friends, is Pure Entertainment anywhere you go.
After Cheli's we make it down the 45 flights of stairs to the ballpark, scavange up some $9 ballpark burritos (Note: Do Not Attempt) and find our 7th row seats. Luckily we made it in time for what would turn out to be one of the highlights of the trip.
As with any red-blooded and beer-enjoying American ballpark going fan, with field level seats, the priorities are simple.
1. Get on TV
2. Catch a foul ball
3. Get an opposing players attention and disparage his baseball abilities
We were able to accomplish #1 in the midst of enjoying one of the more awesome sights I've ever seen at a ballgame, in a near #2. In the bottom of the first, with Tiger rookie Brennon Boesch up to bat, here was my opportunity.
A screaming line drive down the 1B line one-hops up into the seats, coming right for me. I rise to my feet and reach out my hand for the ball. It caroms off a lady in the second row's head, just past my outreached fingers... and square into the nose of the gentleman seated in front of me. Blood. Pouring. Everywhere.
It was awesome.
Nice hands, brah.
As a fellow concerned Tiger fan, I did what any of us would do. Flailed my hands and arms to make sure I was broadcast nationally... then gave the dude my extra burrito napkins. Maybe you'll want to consider sitting upstairs next time.
The game itself was a pretty solid pitchers duel until the 9th, when the Yanks poured on the runs against a rookie day-of call-up and made the score look ugly. Fuzzy and I were long gone by that point... had to get back to Greektown.
As a recommendation for future Detroit travels, check out these places:
Well Bar on Randolph Street. Cheapest post-game beer, $2.
The Old Shillelagh on Monroe. Good music, perfect dive-iness, and, apparently, the best spot to witness public drug use.
Coach's Corner. Nicest bartenders and a delicious fried anything sandwich.
Do not visit: Drunk Puffy Jacket Guy. He will interrupt you constantly while you are trying to make friends with the birthday girl. Right, Fuzzy? Best part of that story? Fuzzy calling him Puffy Jacket Guy during the below conversation.
Maycation Day 2 recap at some point in the future.
