So I Spent A Saturday In Cleveland…

I live a couple hours from Cleveland and have a good friend who lives there. He actually wrote a few articles for us at the beginning under the name The Trucker’s Friend, and now he spends most of his free time with his family.

However, yesterday we were to catch an Indians-Tigers game at Progressive Field at 1:05pm. He bought the tickets online and I left for Cleveland first thing in the morning. The plan afterward was to hit up the Great Lakes Brewery restaurant to try their restaurant-exclusive Quitness Ale.

I had been to Cleveland many times, starting from when I was a boy going to watch Kosar, Slaughter, and the Byner/Mack machine in unbearably cold weather. Now when I go, I don’t really feel the Cleveland Browns mystique — simply because they have sucked for so long the last time I thought they were legitimately good I spent most of my time looking at baseball stat sheets and slam dunking on my 8 foot rim.

When I was driving into downtown Cleveland I felt a certain mystique that was missing and I felt it the moment I saw the Q (the Cavs coliseum).

Oh, the amount of losing that building is about to host!

When heading closer to the stadium I noticed a paucity of LeBron propaganda hanging on buildings. I never realized how much Cleveland force-fed you LeBron James until all traces of him seem to be completely gone.

An unwelcome vacuum his departure has created. The feeling is palpable.

Nevertheless, we are here to catch a baseball game. The extra bonus for me is that I do not have a rooting interest for either team. I could honestly care less who wins. The Trucker’s Friend is a lifelong Tigers fan (living in Cleveland), hence the primary motivating factor for us going.

We got cheap parking a few blocks from the stadium for $5 in a lot that we’re not sure was actually meant for parking, but what’s the worst that could happen? (insert nervous chuckle)

“What’s the smoking situation like in this stadium?” I asked.

“None at all. Anywhere. Anytime.” was the answer I was given.

Naturally on the walk I squeezed in two.

We had right field seats and it was pretty damn hot. Unlike the chicks there.

(On a side note: I’m not saying there aren’t any hot chicks in Cleveland, they just weren’t there. Wink, wink.)

There weren’t very many people there — we guessed there was about 6,000 people there.  The attendance statistics said 20,090. Yeah, and I’m Muhammed Ali.

Indians pitcher Fausto Carmona couldn’t throw a stike to save his life and the Tigers got off to a quick 3-0 lead. Turns out that would be all the runs they would score.

We couldn’t help but notice all the jerseys people were wearing of players who were no longer in Cleveland. Somehow I doubt that will be the case for ole number 23.

At this point the conversation turned to beer. It was early, do we get a beer? Do we start the drinking four hours before happy hour? Can we stop and start again without feeling like crap?

As you can tell, we are not raging alcoholics. We didn’t get beers.

After the third inning we moved to some seats that were shaded behind the visitor’s dugout. Every inning we moved up about 5 rows until we were 10 rows back from the dugout.

Just then I realized, this is the closest I have ever been to a major league baseball field in my life. Of all the countless games I’ve been to I’ve never splurged on the sweet seats. Not bad for $15 tickets.

In Cincinnati (GABP), the ushers act like robocops, 87-year-old robocops, hell-bent on making sure you NEVER get an upgrade without shelling over more cash. In Cleveland it was the opposite and was quite refreshing.

I brought in a gargantuan bag of peanuts. Why is it that only during a baseball game can I eat 5 pounds of peanuts? Never in any other circumstance could I find myself eating peanuts until I have salt powder whitening my fingers and knuckles.

Seriously. there were more people wearing ex-Indians jerseys than current-Indians jerseys (who the hell is on the Indians now, anyway?).  Even the Tigers fans were in on some of it.  I don’t care how much you paid for that Curtis Granderson Tigers jersey, you have to let it go.  He’s a Yankee now.

Of course, there’s nothing wrong with a Hall of Famer a la Al Kaline:

The game ended with the Indians winning by a run, 4-3.

We walked back to the car, and I proceeded to suck down two more cigs before getting into the smoke-free car.

So what next? The Great Lakes Brewery restaurant. I’ve been there once before and the food is as delicious as the spirits. The beer is truly world-class.

I called ahead to make sure they still had Quitness Ale on tap, but was unfortunately informed that it was once again sold out. The woman who answered the phone said they wouldn’t have it again until basketball season.

Upon hearing that news, plans change. With both of us being relatively claustrophobic, we don’t really see the need to throw ourselves into the middle of assholes and elbows.

He tells me of some bars that I would probably like, but then the money factor comes into play. No one I know has a ton of cash to blow and last night was no different. We could have had just as much fun playing PS3, talking about sports and cracking jokes.

And that’s what we did.  After a massive gut bombing by the hands of an All-You-Can-Eat Chinese Seafood Buffet.

After the eats, we went to the beer store and got my beer of the month, Bell’s Hop Slam. Let me tell you, it’s some really good s**t. With a 10% alcohol content level, you don’t need to drink a bunch of these to notice you’ve “had a few.”

Then we went to GameStop and bought MLB The Show for PS3. I’ve never really played PS3 before, and was absolutely blown away by the quality of the graphics. I may consider getting a PS3 but I only really play sports games, so I don’t know if it’s worth it. And the games are ridiculously expensive.

The next morning I left early, so as to not burn through two days. Cleveland’s not so bad, if you already have a friend there.

While driving away from Cleveland, I looked at the skyline in my rearview mirror. The emptiness I felt upon seeing the Q for the first time post LeBronegeddon was replaced with a feeling of moderate acceptance.

It’s far from perfect, but Cleveland will always find a way to get on.