Cru Jones Society

 

If there is one thing I love more than a hot summer afternoon at the ballpark, it’s an icy chilled evening in an arena. Now as much fun as I have watching a live game, whether it be baseball, hockey, or even football (I’m usually drunk at those) there are some things I absolutely hate. What follows are the worst offenders.

For starters let’s talk about the “snacks,” or more appropriately small meals. When I take my seat with my beer I don’t want to look into the aisle and see some jerk off waddle up with a whole god damned tray of food. This s.o.b. has run the gaunlet of snack food concession stands. His tray is piled high with nachos, popcorn, a pretzel (with cheese), ice cream, soda, and cotton candy (which I hope is for a kid, because a grown man eating cotton candy is just sad, especially in public). Does one really need that much food, and snack foods at that? Come on, it’s a three hour event. The S.S. Minnow had less food for its three-hour tour, and there were seven people aboard. I will admit I do enjoy the occasional hot dog, or peanuts at a game. But it’s limited to that; I don’t have a desire to fill an entire tray, ever.

Still not convinced to not get ton of food?

Well keep this in mind, if you don’t have a tray of food on your lap it’ll be easier for you to act like a jackass for the jumbo tron. The giant screen in the middle of the arena is always willing to put morons on, and there are plenty of morons ready to be on it. Whether it’s the kiss cam, or dance cam, or anything really, somebody’s always up for making a spectacle of them self for this fuax TV. And I ask why? Is it because they feel like a celebrity? Is this going to be their 15 minutes?

The whole jumbo tron in general irritates me. I like it telling me the score and showing replays, but everything else about has got to go. It, along with an omnipresent voice, and, of all things, a pipe organ work together to control the crowd. Like the sheep they are, the crowd obeys without thought or hesitation. It makes me wonder just how long until the screen reads, “war is peace, freedom is slavery, ignorance is strength” at every break in the action. Until then, everybody clap your hands.

In a lesser of two evils thing though, I will choose the screen over the a-hole trying to start the wave. God dammit, what a retarded, over rated, piece of mind control shit that is.

The wave.

Fuck!

It looks stupid; it does nothing to boost, well, anything, except my anger and rage towards the asshole who started it, and the stranger next to me who is upset I’m not participating. It also helps to prove my point about how easily people are led about. It brings a big smile to my face to see large chunks of people who refuse to be a part of the wave. Now sit down and let me watch the game.

Now that that jerk-off has sat down, one would believe that the game could be watched in peace, but wait here comes the Colorado Ski patrol to give away t-shirts, and unless it’s the major motion picture Ski Patrol, I don’t care.

It seems as though at every break in the action there’s a prize given away for some asinine reason. Like your seat number, or for waving you King Soopers’ card around, though it’s nice to see so many people saving 3 cents on their milk purchases. But in all honesty does receiving a prize make the experience that much better? Now get out of my way so I can see the game.

           

Now that everyone has their food, there’s no shit to be won, and the game is in play people are actually watching. With no other distractions they can yell their half assed strategies.

I wish they wouldn’t.

There are three reasons why I wish this. First, you’re in the nosebleeds, the players can’t hear you. There’s like a six row radius that can, and we’re annoyed. Second, these men are professionals; they know when to pass without your help. Lastly, your ideas suck. If they were good, you would have a seat on the bench, not next to the likes of my broke ass.

And, for Chrissake, leave the refs alone. I know it’s hip and easy to blame them. They’re going to make calls you don’t like, but they’re trained to look for things that you cannot see. They may make mistakes, but (alteration aside) they’re only human. They don’t come to your job and boo you when you over cook the fries, do they? I would like to see that though.

My last thought on strategy yelling is just for you there fucky, in front of me, oh it is fucky. Just because a guy is down on the ice doesn’t mean he was tripped. Now for the love of all things holy stop yelling for a tripping call!

Now you may be saying one of two things, “Lee, you cynical asshole. Why don’t you relax and have fun at the games?” 

Or

“Good call Lee. You really nailed it.”

For those of you who said the first, the fun I have at the games comes from watching the game. I know, I know that concept is a bit out there. Also, I’m led to believe that I just shat on your parade by pointing out how ridiculous you are at games. It’s important that you know since knowing is half the battle.

Those of you who said the latter statement, thanks, and I’ll look for you in the sections not doing the wave.

See ya in the beer line…

lee.s.hart@crujonessociety.com