My grandfather watches as many Detroit Tigers games he possibly can every summer. However, watching it with him it is at times, hard to decipher if he is a fan or watches the game because he hates them and enjoys to rant about poor performance and poor decisions. His hatred for their manager Jim Leyland is unmatched in the world.
At times my grandpa comes up with theories as to why Leyland is so stupid. Here is one:
“Leyland is so full of shit he has turnips growing out of his ears.”
Jim Leyland was ‘strategizing’ at his sheet doing the game and my grandpa opined:
“I hope you’re reading your will.”
Or more straightforward:
“God is he a terrible manager.”
“He surely isn’t going to win the division, he’s just not good enough.”
“He is not an inspiring manager.”
His hatred and frustration is not purely focused on the manager. It stems to the players and the broadcasters. This is what he said about the starting pitcher today:
“We should trade Brad Penny to Cleveland for a water boy.”
And one of the announcers, Rod Allen:
“Rod Allen knows so much about everything. Just listen to him. If I wanted to know where to get a car, I’d ask Rod Allen. If I wanted to know a good place to get a suit, I’d ask Rod Allen.”
He couldn’t even keep his words limited to the Tigers. He changed the channel to CNN and didn’t like something that was mentioned to which my grandpa said, “You’re so stupid, you’re almost as dumb as Leyland.”
My grandfather gets so upset with the commentating that he mutes the game at a rather impressive rate.
Finally, good words on a player:
“That’s a good pitcher.”
Ironically, his name is Al or Albert Albuquerque. Now, there is a little story that involves: my grandfather, my mother and me. A few years ago we were delivering all sorts of things to random places in the united states, on this trip I went with my uncle, we met up with my grandpa and my mom in Phoenix, Arizona at a Motel 6. They were on their own trip and my uncle and I decided to book a few more deliveries in Arizona so we could help them unload a very large lawnmower and then assist in loading a motorcycle. That’s not the real point of the story. The real point of the story is that for whatever reason we decided to stick together for a couple of days and we drove to Albuquerque, NM. My grandpa doesn’t like to get fast food and instead enjoys going into a restaurant and eating a decent meal. This goes against almost all of the U-SHIP codes. However, he gets what he wants 99% of the time. So, we’re in Albuquerque and my grandpa decides after the motel is booked that my mother, my uncle, he and I should all find a place to eat together. Pizza is brought up as an option. It is decided that we will drive down the road to see what there is as possibilities. Pizza is once again brought up and we see a Taco Bell/Pizza Hut Express.
“Well, hell there’s a Pizza Hut right there” my grandpa says.
I am not so sure of this decision and am quite suspicious of what sort of pizza there will be inside.
My uncle says “I’ll drop you off: I’m going to go across the street to KFC.”
My mom, grandpa and I wander inside. I look at the Pizza Hut side of the menu and see that there are only personal pizzas. I realize this will never fly with my grandpa and decide to stand over by the exit, leaning against the garbage container. My grandpa stares at the menu for a long time before finally speaking.
Gesturing with his hands he says, “Do you guys have any regular size pizzas back there?”
What I heard next brought about one of the most classic scenes that will live in infamy with my family. I had no idea what the 4’10” Hispanic employee said to my grandpa and my grandpa obviously didn’t either.
He looks directly at me for some reason and asks in a voice that is anything, but quiet, “Do you have any idea what the hell he just said to me?”
I couldn’t handle it: I put my arms up in the air, turned around and walked straight out the door, if I would have had my sunglasses there would have been instant deployment. A couple minutes pass, my mom and grandpa come out: my mom in a hysteric fit of laughter, my grandpa sputtering angrily. My grandpa stood and stared across the street at the KFC with fire in his eyes.
My mom sat next to me on the curb, my grandpa was not through being angry at all.
“Bill drops us off here at this Pizza Hut that doesn’t even have fucking real pizza. I don’t even know what they serve in that place. And he goes across the street and wheels himself into KFC for a chicken dinner, just to leave us sitting out here on the curb like the homeless.”
Now both my mom and I are laughing uncontrollably. My grandpa sputtering things about the importance of being able to speak English if you’re living in America and other related topics. I turn around and there are three more Hispanic workers looking at us through the doorway. About five seconds after I notice them my uncle pulls back into the parking lot to pick us up. My grandpa instantly berates my uncle about the whole fiasco that just occurred. The Hispanic workers still standing in the doorway and my grandpa starts screaming at them through the windshield. They look extremely confused and finally my grandpa flips them off and holds the bird for at least four seconds. We drive away in a hurry. My uncle going insane because he thinks they will hunt us down and trash the motorcycle we have in the back.
Back to the present:
Suddenly the bases were loaded with two outs for Cabrera, the best hitter on our team. The general mood in the crowd was hysteria. The general mood in my grandfather’s heart was doubt.
“There is no way that Cabrera will get a hit here, they are going to strike him out.”
Base hit for Cabrera. Base hit for Martinez. Base hit for Jhonny Peralta. Tigers have the lead and the Diamondbacks make another pitching change.
My grandpa philosophizing now:
“I believe that putting Albuquerque in the game is a psychological boost to this team with that Brad Penny in the game the hitters could care less about getting a hit.”
In the top of the ninth the Tigers tried to make the game a little more interesting, giving up base runners on first and second then giving up a base hit for another run for the Diamondbacks making the score 8-3 Tigers, before Leyland “got his head out of his ass.” according to Jerry and put the Big Potato in. He ends the game quickly and the Tigers win.
Hope you enjoyed a rare sports entry for The Shockuation Room.
Have A Great Day,
Coyote Rush
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Oh Coyote, you do have a way of explaining the unexplainable!