World Series Game 4

Game 4 was as nail biter. And we lost. Here's a fan's perspective.

About 6:15 CST. Parking really wasn't that bad. Driving downtown during rush hour was. The number of people begging for tickets on our long march to the stadium was amazing. Every corner. People with signs, people with kids, they were everywhere.

Lots of Sox fans as we get closer to the stadium. A different sort of humanity than us Texans. Not better, not worse, just different. Even without the White Sox garb, they were blatantly obvious. Language, mannerisms, everything.

Here's a shot just entering the stadium:

We walked around for a while to partake in the crowd. Just to be a part of it. And we were looking for a hat and a t-shirt or two. There were 30 minute lines to pay for merch. This town has definitely bought in to the fever. I want a hat and a t-shirt but those lines are friggin' ridiculous.

Looking for merch, we eventualy ended up in the mezzanine in right field. Here's a shot of our position:

Nice graphic. I want a screen like that in my house. One day. One day.

Now to pregame. The endless, endless pregame. Gametime was supposed to be 7:00 CST. With all the marketing/advertising going on, that was impossible. Here's a shot from our seats of the Latino Team of Valiance, or whatever the hell this Chevy ad campaign was:

It was cool to see Juan Marichal's ridiculously high leg kick and the classic Luis Tiant motion to the plate on the big screen. Why is there a Cuban flag being flown proudly in Houston, Texas? On international television? I don't llike that one bit.

This is an argument for a later day. Needless to say, I don't agree. Love the players, despise the government.

Here's first pitch. Or just before first pitch. Flashes were going off all over the place for the first three or four pitches. Please, people. Unless you are a professional, turn those damn things off.

Oh. And that giant green void in center. That's the press. Really. That entire section and a huge room behind them is filled with press. That's an easy 2k fans displaced by your friendly neighborhood sports hack.

Progress! Bases Loaded!

Yeah, we know what happened there, don't we. Squat.

Here's a Mad Oilman's view of the White Sox celebrating their rightfuly won championship:

I cheered for them when they won. They were clearly the better team. And as much as I like Gary Gaetti, dude, you're gone. When stranded men enter the hundreds, it's time to say adios.

Congratulations Sox fans. A well earned Championship, indeed.

Update!

Well, this post is almost 24 hours after game time. Things come back.

I left the suite for a potty break in the 6th. And I ran into Dusty Hill of ZZ Top fame with his entourage. Cool.

When the game was over, Mrs. Oilman and I headed out. Mrs. Oilman needed a station break so I patiently waited in the hall. I saw a bright light approaching rapidly from the right,. Dammit, cameras. Mad Oilman is a private person and he has no need for this.

Well the camera man was running with Jerry Reinsdorf and his peeps. They were going downstairs to champagne land. Well deseved champagne land.