Opening Day is frickin’ Amateur Hour, Dude. Frickin’ amateurs. For 161 games, baseball is an everyday affair where people sew it into the fabric of their days and evenings. On Opening Day, however, it’s “lets’ start drinking at 7AM and be jackasses.”
Even worse? That’s a $10 beer, most likely, that you’ve just wasted on a guy who will, if he’s lucky, serve as the most-days right fielder for what looks to almost certainly be a last place team.
But kudos to you, sporto, for the quick sit-down. No one will ever know it was you who did it.