So we went to the World Series. And although the outcome was terrible, it was so good to be there. The fans were definetly of a different calliber, however, than your typical $25 at-the-most tickets during regular season. The ones around us were mostly there for the social stigmatism of being at the World Series, and celebrated their joy by getting plastered and putting a damper on the game for everyone around them. The girl next to me got so drunk, she couldn't hold her cup up straight. She poured it in my direction and I jumped up before it got all over me, and it went in my seat. I said, "Yeah, I'm gonna need your sweatshirt to wipe up your beer." She was drunk enough to oblige. But we are still glad we went. And the good thing is, we never have to hear about that stupid Curse of the Bambino again!
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