We're No. 4!

Ahhh, a lovely day in Surprise. And surprise! We're sitting in the shade all day!

Our seat neighbors weren't particularly interested in the game. The crowd was actually quieter, older and closer to meeting Death than Peoria, if you can believe that.

Sammy was slammin'. He actually looked pretty good. Had some nice swings and he's really trimmed down. Even his head is smaller.

Pretty good game too. Ended up 12-8 or something, White Sox. Not exactly a pitchers' duel. Hint: Don't bother picking any Rangers bullpen guys for your fantasy team.

We saw some familiar faces -- Art Howe! Also on hand were Ron Washington, who seemed very encouraging to his crappier young players, and the eternal Kenny Lofton. Oh, and first-base coach Harold Baines looked like he could still play.

And to maintain our run of seeing horrific injuries, Michael Young got beaned on the back of the head, and had to come out, bleeding. He didn't even fall down. Now THAT'S a man. Or else a very dumb man.

In other news, Surprise is still on the edge of freaking nowhere. But at least the parking is free. Surprise doesn't have deep-fried crap anymore either. The heart police must've paid a visit, because instead of deep-fried Twinkies and Oreos, they now have chicken wraps and fruit salad. Arizona drivers still suck -- at one light, a pickup on our right came thiiiiiis close to blowing through a red light and T-boning a car making a left turn. Then when the left turn arrow went green, the guy on our left, blew straight through the red light. Asshats. Dawn & Brandye have a good story about a bitch at the store too.


Oh, and the boys ended the evening at a pub quiz in Scottsdale. We were in first place through three rounds, but choked and finished in fourth place, out of 12 or 15 or so. Dammit. Should've known it was the Duke of Wellington! And Jennifer Love Hewitt! Grrrrrr.