I got to the park early to check out the new bar behind the scoreboard. A perfectly orchestrated move by our Nats. Screw improving the team, let's give our fans another place to drink and NOT watch the game! They had two...YES TWO!!! inflatable pools and a few lawn chairs to make it seem like a beach! OMG!!!!1 JK.
As I went up the escalator to the scoreboard walk, I noticed a live band playing in front of me. They all had Nats jerseys on. Upon further inspection, they were jerseys of former Nat greats. I realized that the cover band was called Dr. Fu. I figured this out because every band member had a shirt on with Dr. Fu on it (the logo was a ripoff of the AC/DC logo. Cover bands are always so clever.) I imagine that this led to a conversation with an intern and Stan Kasten that went something like this:
Intern: Mr. Kasten, this cover band named Dr. Fu is wearing their own t-shirts to perform. Aside from the fact that this is super lame, maybe we should give them some Nats jerseys to wear.
Stan Kasten: Great idea! Except they have to pay for them. Also, did you make sure not to comp them with free tickets or drinks like I asked? I'm saving all my money for The Plan and so one day in the next four or five years I can sign a free agent that doesn't suck.
Intern: Yessir, I did all of that. However, maybe in this case we could give them some free jerseys this one time.
Stan Kasten: NOTHING IS FREE IN LIFE!
Intern: We have some old jerseys of past players that nobody bought in our shitty store on Connecticut Avenue. I can just give them those.
Stan Kasten: Fine, but they are coming out of your paycheck.
Intern: That's fine. You don't pay me anyway.
I admit, when I saw people wearing jerseys of Billy Traber, Ryan Drese, Felix Rodriguez, Billy Bray, and Francis Beltran, I actually thought it was those players finally coming to terms that they suck balls and forming a cover band in an effort to get the girls they thought they would get as baseball players.
It was at this point that I was wishing I had a camera. Then, to make me regret the decision to not bring my camera even worse, Clint shows up. For those who don't know Clint, he is the asshole looking frat boy who is on the big screen at all Nats games. I'll post more about him on a later date, but from this date forward, I will refer to him as Clunt. I know the nickname isn't as good as Jesus "Hard Wood" Flores, but it's close. I have actually never seen Clunt in person before, because I sit in cheap seats, and his boyish good looks apparently play better amongst the bougie.
As Clunt was mouthing the words to that song "Please Tell Me Why" which is by some asshole band that he would like, I could not get over how astonishingly awful his hair was. I spent the next five minutes trying to figure out how on earth he explains what he wants when he goes to the barber. "Alright hair fans! Let's get up and cut this hair so that it is super high in the front and completely uneven everywhere else!" (Point's at mirror, smirking at his Live Strong bracelet.)
After a few minutes of seeking out the hottest girls in the area, and some small children (creepy), Clunt turned to the Nat Pack and said, "Common guys. Let's do work!" in the douchiest way humanly possible, and I think he even skipped and waved after saying it.
Clunt and the Nat Pack then proceeded to play the worst games I have ever seen which involved some empty plastic cups and a nerf gun.
As you can tell, this was a well thought out opening to a new area of the stadium. Likely the same thought and progressive thinking that was put into bringing up Ryan Langerhans.
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