Texas Rangers vs. Detroit Tigers; 7:05 pm
Our flight from Chicago to Detroit was relatively boring, which is good. We were delayed for about an hour on the tarmac, which sucked, but we’d been lucky up to that point with on-time travel, so this was bound to happen eventually. We got into Detroit at about 12:30pm and decided to take a detour to Ann Arbor, home of University of Michigan. Julie (my sister-in-law who lives in Detroit and went to UM), suggested lunch at Zingerman's, which was as good as advertised. After meeting up for lunch with two of Todd’s friends, we took a little stroll in downtown Ann Arbor and visited the Big House (football stadium) and Crisler Arena (basketball stadium). The Big House was under construction and we couldn’t get in, but we were able to find an unlocked door at Crisler Arena and went inside for a self-guided tour.
Afterwards we drove directly to Windsor, Ontario, home of my future brother-in-law (and Julie’s fiancée), Noah. Noah gave us a tour of his furniture and electronics store before heading over to his house. The three of us ultimately met up with Julie at Comerica Park, but not before the US border guards got some amusement out of asking us quite simple questions (e.g., how do you know each other) and watching as we gave absurdly complicated answers.
Inside the stadium we had phenomenal seats - 24th row off the field and to the right of home plate. I continued my practice of eating everything I could get my hands on at the stadium (except the sushi – that just didn’t seem kosher for Passover to me). At first the Tigers were having their hats handed to them, but by the 5th inning they were up 19-5. It was like recreation league softball. The high score, chilly weather and exhaustion started to make everyone a bit cranky, so we weren’t quite prepared for the "foul ball incident." Now before I tell the story, I have to explain my position on foul balls. I’ve attended a lot of baseball games in my life and only one time have I come within 10 feet of a ball hit out of play. It is for that reason that I would knock over man, woman and child to get at one. That’s all there is to it.
I can’t remember who hit this one – maybe Magglio Ordonez - but the ball floated in the sky for what seemed like 2 minutes. I calculated the trajectory in my head using the classic method made popular in the movie "Major League" (“It’s too high!”) and wasn’t quite prepared to catch anything because I figured the amateurs 2 rows in front of me would be able to catch a simple pop fly with their bare hands on a 55 degree night. Well, I was wrong and the ball bounced off their frozen paws, headed backwards and…hit me in the hip and bounced into the row in front of us! That’s right, I missed the f%@*^%$ing ball!! I’ve waited 33 years for this chance and I blew it. I’m such an emasculated Nancy! Luckily for Todd, who was sitting to my left, there was still a chance for one of us to emerge from this trip with his balls, reputation and a timeless story still in tact. Like a real man, he threw his body full force into the seats with reckless abandon and made his play for the ball. Unfortunately, he never saw the meathead sitting two seats away come diving in, HEAD FIRST, for the ball. The guy cracked Todd’s head to the left, putting him on the 15 day DL and forcing him to abandon his shot at the $5 baseball. Who ended up with it? The friggin’ guy BEHIND us!! How the hell that happened I have no idea, but that was our one and only shot at a ball and I loved every minute of it. I can tell you for sure that Todd did not. Hope that neck is feeling better, buddy!
We left the game at the top of the 8th inning because it was cold and 3/4ths of our party was falling asleep. We got in Noah’s car and, wouldn’t you know it, the Canuck in charge of getting us out of the area and continuing our hassle-free departure streak decided that he would make a right turn into the wrong direction of a one way street!! We ultimately found our way out, virtually hassle-free, so we can count that as 5 in a row. After another entertaining border stop, we headed towards downtown Windsor, Ontario for some late evening entertainment.
Up until this point I maintained that this trip wouldn’t be complete without smoking a Cuban cigar and/or stopping into a strip club to enjoy some female entertainment. I have to say that I wasn’t terribly shocked at the number of strip clubs in Windsor; rather, I couldn’t believe how many “massage parlors” (a/k/a Rub ‘n Tugs) there were! Alas, neither Todd, Noah nor I engaged in anything of the sort. Instead, we simply found ourselves some $10 Cuban cigars and enjoyed watching the scantily-dressed 18 year old American girls try to get into the Canadian bars (the drinking age is 19 in Canada). We ultimately retired to Le Maison Tepperman around 11:30pm.
