ROAD TRIP: Second Installment – Cleveland OH

ON THE ROAD AGAIN:  After two great days in Cincinnati – props to the Cincinnatian Hotel downtown on Vine St, especially to the bartender Natasha - and don’t you meet the most interesting people in a hotel bar?   Not to digress, but I will, we met a wonderful, loving woman who along with her other daughter, was helping her eldest battle late-stage breast cancer, and a very talkative Australian guy in his sixties, who has traveled America coast-to-coast, visiting the nooks and crannies of our beautiful country.  Something most Americans never get a chance to do . . . 

Anyway, we drove the four hour trek to Cleveland in time to check into the downtown Wyndham hotel – which was a steal of a deal at $105 bucks for the night, and then walk the two blocks to the Jake.  Progressive Field, I mean . . . although most of the fans still sported THE JAKE shirts . . .

It’s a gorgeous ballpark, and I’d have to rate it ahead of the Great American Ballpark in Cincy.  The open “floor plan” was condusive to catching the game action from almost anywhere, and the beer prices were lower.  Plus any park that has an open bar in centerfield with the game cornhole set up next to it must have been well thought out . . .

The ushers at Progressive field weren’t very pleasant, you could even say they were annoyed at you being there, shooing people away and not making eye contact when talking to, or AT you . . .

A product of not winning a championship since the Browns did it in 1964?  Before the Super Bowl era?  Probably . . .

One of my favorite moments came after the game when we walked to down the street to “Harry Buffalo”, a rustic sports bar that had $2, 23oz Miller Lites – cheers – when a young girl who couldn’t have been older than 22 and was TANKED, approached me for directions with her two tagalongs - This is how the conversation went:

DLG (Drunk Little Girl):  Heyeyeyeyey!!  (while chewing gum with her mouth wider than Angela Jolie’s legs) D’ya know where the wess end issss?

ME:  No, I’m sorry but I’m not from here.

DLG:  Wowww, where ya from then? (chew, chew, chew, snap)

ME:  Pittsburgh, we’re visiting different . . .
 
DLG:  WAIT!  D’ya saya Pisssttburgh? (no more chewing, mouth just hung open)

ME:  Yes.

DLG:  Are ya Steelers flan?

ME:  Yes.

DLG :  F*#K OFF!   (chew, chew, snap)

Then she quickly stormed down the street sideways, with her tagalongs in tow, before I gathered my thoughts to say, “okay, and I’ll take our six lombardi trophies with me.”

I think I was in shock that this young chick would say something like that to me.  I’m a 30-year old woman.  Do kids have ANY respect any more? 

Or is it just a product of not winning a championship since the Browns did it in 1964?  Before the Super Bowl era?  Probably . . .

An Ode to Cleveland….