Day 1: Alice's Restaurant

In the early evening of July 5th we motored into Cleveland, singing aloud to the joyous noise that is Poison. Truly we didn't need nothing but a good time and momma's fallen angels were planning on winning big. Or at least scoring beer, food, and some tickets to the evening's game. Ah Cleveland, I won't forget you...but every rose has it's thorn.

In short order Adelaide was stashed in a shady garage and tickets were secured. Now for nourishment. Across the street from the Jake was an establishment proclaiming itself as 'Cooperstown.' Aha! we thought, a baseball-themed joint - clearly the Baseball Jesus wanted us to break bread here. He did - but for reasons of His own.

I began to understand the mysterious workings of the Baseball Jesus while I looked for the men's room. I passed a series of framed posters hanging from the wall, posters that appeared to be not baseball but rock n' roll memoribilia. A closer inspection revealed that the fact that they all featured Alice Cooper, from all stages of his career. 'Damn this is strange,' I thought, ' who would decorate a sports bar by hanging Alice Cooper stuff in the men's room?' Clearly the sun had addled my brain - it wasn't until I was walking back to the table that I made the connection. This wasn't Cooperstown as baseball's hall of fame but Cooperstown as in welcome to my nightmare. The Baseball Jesus had led us to Alice Cooper'stown. Glancing the menu only confirmed this: selections ranged from No More Mr. Nice Pie (pizza) to Alice's Fresh Veggies.

A brief aside to Ted Nugent: I don't know why you gave one of your gold records to Alice Cooper, and he did hang it in his restaurant like he presumably promised - but he stuck the thing waaaay in the corner, underneath the overhanging television. Are you guys quarreling?

The game itself was satisfactory and we had good seats back of home plate. I'll leave the full-fledged analysis of Jacob's Field to the Bunny and merely note some highlights:

• Cup holders for your beer. I was to learn that just about every park except Fenway has these.
  
• Slider and the Sliderettes. Heh.
  
• Fireworks after the game
  

After the game we motored on to Toledo before stopping for the night. Once holed up in our motel room we began to surf the cable. Neither Bunny nor myself have cable - were unable to pass up the opportunity to graze channels. Which explains why we were up until 4 in the morning watching CHIPs of all things.

Hey, it was a good episode. You know, the one where Ponch's car - his beloved Detriot Iron - gets stolen, and the culprit turns out to be the chick in his apartment complex that he was kind of sparking. And at the end, when he catches her, there's this scene where Ponch is all like 'why'd you do it baby?' and she's explaining the pressures that drove her into a life of grand theft auto and then Ponch shakes his head at the tragic waste of it all, because even though he's a veteran of the CHP and he's seen it all before, the pathos never fails to touch him.

While I'm on the subject of Ponch, how on God's green earth did Erik Estrada make his way into the Angel's dugout!? I was watching the game without sound (at the local) - was there any explanation for this? The average Angels player was what..five years old the last time ole Erik was on prime time? Do they even know who he is?