My seats used to be in left field, where every Sunday home game we would celebrate America’s past time by hurling unfair and unprovoked insults at whomever was unfortunate enough to be slotted in the position for the opposing team.  Usually Pat Burrell got a solid dosage, too, with a few middle-aged housewives chiming in with thier undying support of his ass.

One year, the Blue Jays came to town, and their leftfielder was a stocky journeyman named Matt Stairs.  Those of us who even knew who he was were aware of exactly zero of his accomplishments.  There were no Matt Stairs headlines for us to transform into antagonistic shouts.

“Hey Matt Stairs!” the guy behind us screamed.  ”… I will Stair you down!” (more…)