Milwaukee = Algonquin word Millioke = "The Good Land"

You're so right, Alice Cooper.

Everybody who knows me (and many that don't) have heard of my frustrating quest to somehow watch the Tribe while living in Dayton that ended with me contacting state legislators and obtaining the personal number of Indians VP Bob Dibiasio. Please... Extra Innings... I'm trying to give you $150.

Anyway, last night I went to my local Buffalo Wild Wings and Weck to watch the excellent contest between the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim and our beloved Cleveland Indians of Milwaukee.

Two things:

1) Slider looked absolutely beautiful going down that slide. Grace... Presence... What a majestic creature. I no longer think he's one of the worst mascots in baseball. Thank you for that, Miller Park. Unfortunately, the Indians front office must not have been able to persuade the pussies that head the Brewer organization and allow him to land in a mug of beer. I blame Bud Selig.

2) On behalf of all Fans of the Feathered, I would like to extend my heartfelt gratitude to Mr. John Adams who continued his streak of attending every home game... even those not played at home! I don't think I'd be nearly the fan that I am if it weren't for this perpetual icon. At least Joanna has finally resigned herself to me slapping her on the leg with "WHOMP whomp whomp whomp WHOMP whomp whomp whomp..." while we have men in scoring position and the opposing hurler is getting set.

I attended a quickly scheduled makeup game a few years ago that took place on a Tuesday afternoon. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something was wrong during the first few innings. Then it hit me. No John Adams! He must've shown up sometime in the third inning, as his spiritual drumming helped us go on to beat the Orioles that afternoon. I imagine he got held up after putting in a half day at the super secret spy organization or high-class male escort service where he works.