50,000 people are screaming. The world's best athletes are performing at the top of their game. The crowd chants as one: "Let's Go Yank-ees!" When the most perfect set of snuggle-bubbles bounces by. Ah! Why am I so easily distracted by boobies?!

I love baseball. And the game itself was great. But if you wanted a rundown of the game you'd be at some sports site and not hogwild.net. So I'm gonna give you the HogWild report of what was really going on.

Most baseball vendors are really friendly people. They are our blue-collars heroes who've got "Beer Here!" But for some reason, the Yankees hired the most angry vendor I've ever seen. She was kind of a living stereotype. She was an angry big black woman. And she shouted at everyone, "WHO WANTS A COKE?! COCA-COLA M0THERF*CKER!"

NOTE: Okay, so she didn't actually curse, but she may as well have.

She would get frustrated when no one would buy from her so she was like, "I GOT COCA-COLA! C'MON, THIS SH!T IS DELICIOUS!"

The odd thing was once somebody DID order from her, she suddenly became super nice and spoke in a warm soft voice, "Thank ya, sweetheart. Here's your change, honey...

"COCA-COLA M0THERF*CKER!!!"

Then there was this other vendor. Little guy. Hauling the boxes of Cracker Jack.

NOTE TO THOSE IGNORANT OF DELICIOUS AMERICAN CONFECTIONS: Cracker Jack is caramel covered popcorn that comes with peanuts and a toy surprise.

NOTE TO CRACKER JACK:  About your toy surprise... the surprise is that your toys continue to suck. Once in awhile, would it kill you to put in a half-way decent toy?

NOTE TO SELF: Dude, are you serious? You're complaining about toys? Grow up already!

So my buddy points something out to me about the Cracker Jack vendor:

MY FRIEND: The Cracker Jack guy throws like a girl!

ME: Get out of here!

MY FRIEND: Really!

So I check it out.... and he does! He throws the bag of Cracker Jack like a sissy-girl! HA HA HA! I ready my video camera... this is gonna be GREAT! I can't wait to post this on hogwild.net!

MY OTHER FRIEND: Dude, you know that guy is disabled, right?

ME: What?

MY OTHER FRIEND: Look at his arms. They're really short and gimpy. And he's having trouble walking.

ME: Oh. This isn't funny any more. Thanks a lot, dude! Why did you have to tell me that? You suck!

Now I feel all guilty for laughing at this guy... when I realize... Hey! Why did the Yankees put him on Cracker Jack duty?! That's f*cked up!

They KNOW the guy has gimpy arms! Why are they making him throw? Couldn't they have given him the cotton candy? Or the #1 foam fingers? This is wrong! This is gimpy-girlie-throwing racism! This must be stopped! I'm going to march right into the Yankees offices and... BOOBIES! 2 o'clock! Look! Look! Tee-hee-hee!

But there was something even more eeeeee-vil going on in Yankee Stadium that night. Something so patently wrong that it makes me furious just thinking about it.

The legendary Yankee Stadium announcer, Bob Sheppard, was taking the day off. He needs a day off now and then because he's about 147 years old. Mr. Sheppard (who is still alive at the writing of this article) is the only person alive back when the New York Yankees were still called The New Amsterdam Yankees and played in the Dutch Baseball League.

NOTE: As you might imagine, players back in the Dutch Baseball League didn't steal many bases because it's very difficult to run in wooden shoes.

So Bob Sheppard has the day off. You'd think his replacement would do his job and the crowd would get used to it. Although we miss our legendary announcer, we understand this new guy will do the best he can.

But no. The substitute announcer attempts to MIMIC Bob Sheppard! He's using his famous voice patterns and wobbly old-man-speech! This is an outrage!

This is like back-in-the-day when they replaced an actor on your favorite sitcom with a new actor who looked similar and they expected you not to notice! How stupid do they think we are?! I'm going to march right into the Yankees offices and... BOOBIES! HUGE BOOBIES 12 O'CLOCK!!!

Somebody should really rank all of the baseball stadiums in order of how many hot chicks you will see at a typical game. Yankee Stadium has to be way up there. Sure, there is L.A. with the tan girls with their  Foobies (Fake Boobies) and if fans actually attended baseball games in Miami, they would be up there... but there is something about a no-nonsense girl who is a serious baseball fan wearing a cap with her pony-tail through the back... and her little booty in her blue jeans cheering for the home team... yummy.

That's the All-American girl... take that you Commie-Bastards!

There was one such hot girl in my row.  But sitting next to her was a girl who -- I don't want to say she was ugly -- but... if you pulled down her panties her v@gina would bark at you.

NOTE: Visualize that. A girl's actual v@gina... angrily barking at you. Growling. Foaming like it had rabies.

NOTE TO SELF: HA HA HA! I am a sick bastard!

So this ugly girl, she's what I call the "barrier reef." She's preventing access to her hot friend. Now, my buddy wants me to approach the barrier reef and befriend her so he can move-in on the hot girl. He wants me to hit on the barrier reef.

But I'm not good at that fake stuff. Pretending to be attracted to that girl would require serious acting. Robert DeNiro couldn't pull this off.

VENDOR: WHO WANTS A COKE?! COCA-COLA M0THERF*CKER!!!"

Before I do this, I need a beverage. I know what you're thinking, "Why didn't you throw down a few beers first?"

1 - Because it was late in the game and they stopped selling beers.

2 - Because the amount of beer necessary to make this girl look acceptable would be the amount that causes me to vomit. And even still, only if I vomited on her face would she have looked slightly better.

NOTE TO GIRLS: I know I sound really mean right now, but see, I had no problem with her at all. It's just that my friend wanted me to hit on her. It's like this: You think the guy who played Screech on Saved by the Bell is a huge dork. But whatever, who cares? Now imagine your friend set you up on a romantic date with Screech. Are you starting to feel sick?

ME TO THE VENDOR: 1 Coke!

I hand her a $50 bill.

VENDOR: Thank ya, sweetie-pie. Here's your change, my love.

She hands me back 2 quarters.

So I began to think of opening lines for this ugly girl who looked like she belonged on the set of Star Wars...

"Hi! I see that you like baseball. Is that why you look like that? Because you were hit in the face with a bat? Repeatedly?"

No. Uh, "Hi! Isn't this game exciting? There's a man on every base! And to sleep with you, I'd have to be just like the bases --- loaded!"

See, I'm no good at this. I don't want to be mean to this aesthetically-challenged girl. It's like my mother always taught me, "If you have nothing nice to say, then it's better to say it behind their back."

As this is going on, my @sshole friend thinks it would be funny to order multiple bags of Cracker Jack so the poor gimpy Cracker Jack vendor has to throw like a girl in front of everybody.

MY @SSHOLE FRIEND: Cracker Jack, here!

CRACKER JACK VENDOR: 1 Cracker Jack on the way!

He throws the bag like a sissy with a limp wrist and my @sshole friend is laughing hysterically.

MY @SSHOLE FRIEND: Another one!

CRACKER JACK VENDOR: Okay! Another Cracker Jack coming your way!

Again he throws the bag like a sissy and again my @sshole friend laughs uncontrollably.

MY @SSHOLE FRIEND: One more!

Okay, this is just wrong.

CRACKER JACK VENDOR: One bag of Cracker Jack coming your way!

ME: HUGE BOOBIES!!  3 O'CLOCK!

My @sshole friend quickly turns to look... and the big bag of Cracker Jack smacks him dead in the face.

ME (THINKING): Looks like the laugh's on you, man!

MY @SSHOLE FRIEND: Hey! I didn't see any boobies!

ME: Oh. You must've just missed her. Really amazing.

MY @SSHOLE FRIEND: Damn it!

My other buddy is getting anxious about the hot girl. Fine! I'll do it! But I'm not gonna lead this poor ugly girl on! So you'd better make your move quick!

I get up and sit down next to the barrier reef. My plan is to make small talk. REALLY small talk.

ME: Hi. Great game? Huh?

BARRIER REEF: Sure is.

ME: Beautiful night for a game. Don't you think?

BARRIER REEF: Yes. It's really nice out.

ME: So uh..

I'm starting to sweat. My buddy gives me the thumbs up. I need to occupy this girl but I've got nothing. And -- I don't know if you've been around a really ugly person before -- but it's difficult to make eye contact. It's like, I feel like if I make too much eye contact the ugly person will turn me ugly, too. Kinda like an ugly vampire thing.

I've got nothing left to say. I'm desperate.

Out of the corner of my eye I see the hot girl laughing with my buddy. She's touching him. He's almost in. Dang it! Somehow I've got to keep this ugly girl occupied. Double-dang it!

ME: Uh, let's take a picture together!

I take out my camera. I swear I could see a salty tear run down from the camera lens.

BARRIER REEF: Why do you want to take a picture?

ME: Uh, because you're so <GULP> pretty!

I can't believe the words left my lips. All I wanted now was to scrub myself in a hot shower. Eeew!

BARRIER REEF: You're so sweet! But you should know that you're really not my type.

What?!

ME: (Choking) Really?

BARRIER REEF: Sorry. Just being honest.

ME: Wait, why am I not your type?!

BARRIER REEF: Well, if you really must know, I just don't find you attractive.

ME: Why I oughta give you a...

VENDOR: COCA-COLA M0THERF*CKER!!!"

So I did. I gave her a Coke and a smile.