World Baseball Classic

Last night's baseball game was the best baseball experience I've had recently. Keep in mind that I still haven't had a chance to see D-Wayne pitch behind batters and bean guys while throwing for the FuBar team, though. Still hoping for that chance. My enjoyment didn't come so much from baseball itself but rather having a chance to be with friends and forced to make your own fun in game where your team is being routed. Korea beat Taiwan 9-0.

D-Wayne, Chris and I arrived FuBar in the bottom of the 1st just in time to see a 2-run single, some walks and then a grand slam. 1 out, Korea ahead 6-0, D-Wayne proclaims it "Over. It's over. It's over man." Taiwan starts and finishes the top of the 2nd in less time than it takes to climb the stairs, use the restroom and return. We agree with D-Wayne and turn to how to enhance our viewing experience - beer was already factored in. Names. Korean names. We think we gotta be able to do something with them and sure enough Korea's third baseman comes to the plate - 6'4", 220lbs Dae Ho Lee. He looks like Ernest in the Country Bear Jamboree. Lee swats a monster just left of the foul pole and my brain flashes on and I sing, Dae Ho. Dae-ae-ae-ae-ae-ae-ae Ho. I pause and look expectantly and Chris. He arches an eyebrow, grins and finishes- Dae Ho hit and he wanna go home. A big Marv Albert Yessss! We sing variations each time he appears, but in the end, Dae Ho never came home.

Later with Taiwan batting, I glimpsed the Korean pitcher's name on the jersey. B-O-something-G. Come on, turn around and give us a clear view. Please let it be. Wait, here it comes...N! Ladies and Gentlemen. Your pitcher. J. K. Bong! The Taiwan batter plays along with us and gets a hit. Bong hit! Bong hit! Unfortunately, there were only two Bong hits and we couldn't think of anyway else to use his name - and I had two Canadians flanking me.

We supplemented the names with trying to guess the product being pushed on the commercials before they were over and parsing the ads in the stadium. One commercial, we never understood. An elderly Japanese couple in traditional robes are sitting on tatami and the man pats his belly and smiles. The next shot shows them patting each other's behind and then a bottle of pills. Nothing made sense and still doesn't. Chris and I were mainly the ones doing this as D-Wayne was covering my right flank. To D-Wayne's right was a guy I'll call 911. This can be read two different ways depending on the flavor of trash flowing from his mouth at the time. When ranting about government, conspiracies, The Man, he is to be addressed as 9-11. When whining and bitching about any other thing he is 9-1-1, because that is the number to be called after you either kill him or you kill yourself. D-Wayne was definitely opting for the former. Finally 911 went in to eat a burger and torture another soul. The games continue today. D-Wayne is looking forward to the Canada-U.S. game and I am waiting for the next Korea game, because they have an unplayed ace up their sleeve, Bum Ho Lee.