Tell Captain your deepest secrets...

When I was 21 years old, I interned at a large insurance company for a summer to learn about subrogation, claims adjusting and financial services. We had a two day orientation dedicated to teaching us all sorts of crazy life lessons, but the one thing that really stood out to me was this line:

When you go out to lunch or hang out in the community, watch what you say.  You are working for a large company with a large network of people. If you trash a boss, someone will hear you.  If you trash the company, someone will hear you. Don’t say anything stupid.

This is fantastic advice. When I go out in public, I am always listening to every stranger within hearing range. This happens because I refuse to make an effort to focus on the people or things nearby that are actually associated with me. I don’t need the camaraderie of good friends or the reassurance of my wife to brighten my day when I have the obscure stupid crap that I can hear from total strangers everywhere, every day.

So when I attended the first two games of the Rangers season this week, my attention wasn’t captured by the 17 runs the Rangers scored, the first hit and home run of Elvis Andrus career, the great start by Kevin Millwood or the slow start by Chris Davis (after I bought his t-shirt in the gift shop… My fault somehow?). Instead, it was the inane chatter of the people around me that made my day.

Here are the highlights:

• Guy in Troy Aikman jersey: “This year is gonna suck, but they’ll keep Arlington warm for the new stadium next year! Go Cowboys!” (And yes, he was cheered by a smattering of folks nearby).
• Random guy in concession line: “Man, everybody is really rushing into the stadium to see Bush.” (Yeah, I chuckled).
• “Let’s trade Andrus while he’s hot for some more pitching!”
• Drunk girl who looked like a meth-enthusiast: “If you don’t get up and cheer right now, you aren’t a real fan!” (She also asked Josh Hamilton to marry her — it just seems like a bad match)
• Some guy who started the wave while the Rangers were batting in the first inning: “Whoooohoooo! Do it with me!”
• After getting an out in his first plate appearance: “Man, Michael Young is done.”
• “We might as well bring up Brandon Boggs again and see what we can get for Byrd, Jones and Cruz.”
• Guy in an Emmitt Smith jersey: “Go Indians! Yeah Tribe!” (”I Love the 90’s” bandwagon redux?)
• Frat guy: “Dude, I’ve been drinking all day. I deserve a win.”
• Not a quote, but here is your confusing jersey roster: Texas Longhorn Roger Clemens jersey, couple in matching Colorado Rockies jerseys, Pittsburgh Pirates man, 400 Cowboys jerseys, a Hispanic family in a variety of NFL jerseys and 967 Red Sox and Yankees douches. Oh, and I almost left out Tulane hat and sweatshirt guy.
• “The Mavs and Stars suck and the Cowboys ain’t playin’, so I might as well be here.”

This doesn’t capture the magic of the fans who got drunk and mocked the cops, swore at kids and then failed to correctly identify most of the players on the field during their failed heckling attempts. They were a real treat.

Perhaps doing this from memory three days later is not the best way to approach the subject. But rest assured, my hatred of the fans in this city and my love of its least popular sports (hockey and baseball) will force me to continue writing this crap whether you like it or not.

GO COWBOYS!!! YEEHAW! I LOVE DALLAS!