Mike took me to a Detroit Tigers game for my birthday and we had kick ass seats in the club type place where there was food and alcohol and none of the unwashed masses that you encounter in the bleacher seats.
Wisenheim came along, because he had been watching the baseball with us for months, and wanted to see what all the fuss was about.
He liked the pop more than anything, even though it was Pepsi. He also liked my beer, but I forgot to capture the moment. SORRY.
Anyway, the Tigers won, it was a glorious night, and we took a stuffed owl puppet to a baseball game in downtown Detroit. We win the day.