Tune into CSNBA tonight at 11pm for a re-airing of Chronicle Live and see the ABIDE shirt on tv! A big thank to @Noctro to bringing the shirt to the post game BBQ for me while I was at work.

So happy!

Part one here. Part two here. Read one, or read them all. I suggest reading them all.

Dawn breaks over our third and final day of baseball. Dawn's a bitch like that. We slept right on through the sunrise and awoke to a lazy day spent finding food in the streets of NoHo and waiting for Jeff to finish working. We watched a lot of Dr. Who. Jeff and I had to explain a lot of it to Mina, as she'd never seen any of it, which is shame because it's been quite good. (it was also the end of David Tennant's reign and the man was the perfect Doctor.)

Of all the games, I think this was the one Mina was most looking forward to and also dreading the most. A life long Giant's fan, this was going to be her first foray into the heart of enemy territory. Sure, she's been to Giant's v Dodger's game before, but in the friendly confines of PacBell (AT&T) Park. This would be a whole new experience.

After walking around the entire stadium, we met up with Ivy and headed over to the store. Mina was reluctant to enter, but as I had gone into the Angel's store the day before, I figured she owed me a walk though Dodger World. We made a hasty trip through, then waited outside while Ivy bought out the store. (her most prized purchase being a stuffed animal snake/boa she named Quagmire.)

Last time I was here I wasn't eating hot dogs (it's a long story), so I was REALLY looking forward to finally having a Dodger Dog. These foot longs are the stuff of stadium legend, spoken of in lands far and wide. I had been looking forward to this all trip. I spotted the nearest food dispensary, and despite the fact that we were sitting on the exact opposite side of the stadium, I ran up and purchased a Dodger Dog. I then noticed they had Blue Moon on tap. I don't normally have beer at sporting events, mostly due to the price, but this was simply too good a chance to pass up. They serve you beer in a lidded plastic cup at Dodger stadium. We suspect this was to keep people from committing beer fouls, but we saw it as an invitation to stick straws in our beers and drink them that way. It's what civilized folk do.

I'd post a picture of this, but it's of me and I look like a dork. Who drinks beer with a straw?!? Oh...right.

The Giants, to Mina's delight, took an early lead. I clapped too, as I feel it close to impossible to pull for the Dodgers, what with being best friends with Mina and a long time supporter of the Giants as my National League team. (you can have two teams. Yes you can) Sure I love my A's first, but I don't turn down Giant's games just because their Giant's games. It's all baseball.

Anyway, I was also in wholly neutral deep purple, not wanting to revisit the experience of my last trip to Dodger stadium in 2004 which involved a very drunk fellow walking up to me and screaming "FUCK YOU!" so loudly in my ear I thought my eardrum might rupture. I was dressed in orange and black then. I wasn't really eager to tempt fate in that regard, despite the fact that we were going to be sitting downstairs and not in the loge.

Back to the Dodger Dog. It's not that is was bad, it's that it wasn't mind blowing. It was tasty, but not filling and really unimpressive in pretty much every regard but length. (I feel weird critiquing cylindrical foods) Still hungry, Jeff and I set out to find more overpriced stadium fair. We stumbled upon a booth that sold salads, dipping dots, and sushi. Odd combo to be sure, but I am all about Dipping Dots, so we braved it. Nothing like a beer and tiny bits of ice cream to make you feel like a classy gal on a Monday night.

A nigh full of back and forth banter between Ivy and Mina, as well as some back and forth with the very drunk, and very amusing gentlemen behind us (who invited at least Ivy to a party. I have no idea if she went) The Dodgers did score 2 runs to the Giants 4 and for awhile it looked as though the boys in blue might come out on top of the Giants, but thankfully that did not come to pass. I was not at all looking forward to the shit talking that would have followed that outcome.

On the way out I high fived some Giant's fans, which on me the immediate ire of Ivy, who grabbed my hand and drug me off towards her car loudly chiding me for being involved in such activities. Jeff and Mina headed off towards Mina's car, and we had an unofficial, slow moving race to see who could get back to Ivy's the quickest.

Rolling through the streets of LA at night, blasting gangsta rap from the interior of a silver Saturn gets one strange looks, especially when one is white. Oh a whim Ivy decided we NEED to drive through the park, so we embark on a twisting turning, u turn filled journey that nearly saw us run down a stop sign at the end of a road. It also involved a zoo and a small train.

Needless to say, we got back later, much to the confusion of Jeff and Mina. Ivy also had the only set of keys, so there was some grumbling about being forced to wait to get back into her place when we needed to leave in the morning, but we explained that a zoo and, later a train, had been involved, and that seemed to confuse everyone into silence.

We retired to Ivy's apartment floor once more, ready to head back home the following morning. It was a great trip, although short, perhaps too short, but totally worth it to see two great ballparks and one festering red wound on the face of Orange County.

We shall miss you Great Baseball Roundtrip.

Perhaps next summer we'll take a trip to see the park in Seattle. I hear they have a bridge troll.

Part 1 of our journey through the ballparks of the Southland can be found here.

San Diego's cool and foggy morning greeted as as we arose and headed down to the parking lot to once again stuff Mina's car full of bags and humanity. We settled in for the 90 minute drive to Orange County and sped off down the misty highway. Unlike the previous day's drive, this trip was uneventful and accident free.

We arrived in Tustin/Irvine at The Market Place, a shopping center off 5 that has grown considerably since last I saw it in 2005. We had a late breakfast at a Jamba Juice before wandering around the center in the hopes of finding an ATM before we hit Anaheim. Time sufficiently killed and monetary paper units acquired, we headed off towards Angel's Stadium.

Let me tell you something about this ball park; I hate it.

I hate it with the fiery passion of ten thousand burning suns. A resident of the area during the 2002 World Series, I grew to hate all that is Angel's baseball. Those stupid thunder sticks, the sea of bandwagon read, those two stupid hats out front of the ballpark, I loathe it all.

I had been here only once before, to watch my A's play the accursed Angels, and I had sworn never again to set foot inside this ballpark. The A's had won that game but so annoying was the experience the best part of it was when a sudden Thunderstorm rolled over the field and dumped buckets of rain down on the stands. I had agreed to do this trip knowing the risk of setting foot inside this place of darkness would be great, but hoping that they would just drop me off at Art Supply Warehouse in Garden Grove for the game's duration.

It was not so.

The up side to this journey was meeting Earl Sleek of BoC fame. Reluctantly, and spouting off a fantastic fountain of obscenities, I entered the park. If Mina was going to enter Dodger Stadium the following day, I too would have to face my enemies in their own home.

The park is nothing special. Built in the slightly older style, it's concrete walls and run of the mill concessions remind me of late 1980s and early to mid 1990s baseball. There is nothing special here.

We climbed northward, finding out seats in the uppermost deck and squarely in the hot burning sun. After about 5 minutes of sitting there, now covered in sweat and whatever that is in the air in Orange County, we decided to move up into the shade. Our friend "Ivy", who was on the journey with us, was really tempted to tell the little man directing folks to their seats we were moving. We convinced her not to. It's pretty much an accepted practice in baseball to move to different (e.g. better) seats and then vacate them once the proper owners arrive. This game was NOT going to be sold out, so we took refuge in the shade covered seats above and stayed there for the duration of the game, unmolested by the actual ticket holders.

This game was one of the most boring games I have ever witnessed. So boring was it that I actually fell asleep. TWICE!

The highlight was meeting Sleek. Of course, he's also the one who said he was feeling extra innings that day, so I blame him for making us sit through 10 innings of sheer boredom. He also tried to buy booze with an expired license, which led to some hilariousness and as he was denied his jack and coke. Yes, it's true, the man pouring the drinks would have likely noticed his license had expired and not allowed him to purchase the booze but you don't OFFER that information. You wait and see if you can buy the booze first, then admit to expired license. (or, as we suggested later, you don't let your license expire, but that's clearly beside the point.)

Sleek decided to be far too honest for his own good. Ivy had to buy him his drink, which I found tremendously hilarious.

I tried to get Sleek to admit that Rudy Kelly is in fact a) a figment of his imagination b) a robot or c) a chick, but he would do no such thing. He claims he really does exist and that he has a real name. I find this claim dubious at best. He really seemed to get a kick out of my desire for Rudy Kelly to be a woman though. Someone that vulgar and hilarious, yet unseen by most of the BoC staff HAS to be a woman. And probably a hot one at that.

To those who have not met us before, Mina and I have to resemble a whirlwind that speeds towards anyone in our path and sucks them up only to dump them 20 miles away confused and worn out. Add Ivy into the mix and I fear we may be more than most men can handle. Our friend Jeff, also on the trip, is used to this and spent the game actually rooting for his Mariners to win (which they eventually did, 2-1. We all stood up and cheered and watched as our section first gave us some dirty looks then quickly fled towards the exits), while Sleek seemed slightly overwhelmed by our oppressive female force.Game over he seemed to want nothing more than to have a smoke and then make a hasty retreat back to his home, far, far away from the cacophony that is Couchtarts live.

But we're coercive, you see. You don't meet us for the most boring baseball game in the world and then get to leave scot-free. No, no, we force you to come to dinner with us as well. Sure we may have talked hockey and sci fi during the game but there is so much more we could discuss. Join us, Sleek. JOIN US!

From screen left: Gray, Mina, Ivy, a very scared Sleek

So he did.

I'm sure he learned way more about us than he wanted to over burgers, and then coffee, as we met up with an old high school friend and chatted the evening away. At one point he said "...but back to the Hills..." stopping all conversations dead in their tracks. Seriously, Sleek, the Hills?

The sun setting and the hot arid lands of Orange County growing cold, we stumbled out into the fading sun and bid Sleek and our friend adieu. Once again piled into the car and headed back up to LA. Tomorrow would be the last of our games, and perhaps the biggest. Tomorrow featured the Dodgers and the Giants at Dodger Stadium.

Ah, baseball. America's past time. It fills the long hot months between the Cup Finals and the start of the regular season. Steamy summer nights (or for those us in the Bay Area, freezing cold foggy ones), over priced watery beer, hot dogs, the crack of the bat and the good old roar of the crowd. Baseball. It was made for summer.

We set off on our epic journey last Friday, heading down the long and dusty ribbon of road known as I-5 on our way to a weekend of baseball filled madness. We made good time and spent a lovely balmy night enjoying Thai food and debates over right of way (human walking in front of traffic +fast moving car= it doesn't matter who has right of way. If you're the human side of this equation, you just lost.) in Old Town Pasadena before retiring to our temporary home away from home in Toluca Lake.

We headed of Saturday morning to our first ballpark, Petco, down in San Diego. Anyone familiar with southern California geography will tell you this isn't a 4 hour drive. In our case, it was. Fate blessed us with a steady supply of accidents to drive past, causing us to arrive in SD just a scant 90 minutes before the 5:35pm start. We checked into our hotel, dropped our stuff off, then headed down to the ballpark.

I love Petco. I had never been to a game here before so I had no idea just how lovely this park really was. Seating is open, the walkways provide endless views of the field, the concessions are actually good, I don't think you can find a bad seat in the house, and the grassy hill out back that provided folks a chance to come and picnic and enjoy a game for $5 was brilliant. A prefect fit for the generally pleasant weather in SD. The way they worked the old building left standing on the property into the park was also genius, and I really enjoyed the little standing room only spot in provides fans at field level. You can stand there and watch a game, right next to the outfield! Fantastic.

The Padres were facing the Diamondbacks on this night, which lead to a small protest being assembled peacefully outside the park's entrance. Few Diamondbacks fans were in attendance. It was mostly a sea of people in blue hats. This probably was due, in large part, to the fact that it was free giveaway night and everyone got Padres hats as they entered the ballpark. This was my main reason for rooting for the Padres that night. They gave me a free hat.

I am easily swayed.

(in my defense, it's a quality hat. It really is.)

The Padres also have one of the greatest signs ever. GO TACOS!

The game was great. The lead was back and forth all night, and there were 4-5 home runs total over to course of the game. The majority of those from the Padres. That in and of itself is such a rare feat it would have made the game even if it had been less enjoyable. (that was a baseball joke for those of you paying attention)

The Padres ended up winning the game 8-5, sending the crowd home happy.

The rest of my party went out to see Despicable Me after the game, while I retired to the hotel for a workout and some much needed shut eye. We were due to be out of town by no later than 9am the following morning and I wanted to make sure I got my 8 hours in. No one likes a bitchy Gray. Especially not when they're forced to be in a small car with her for several hours. I can be quite moody when sleep deprived and forced to be up and about before breakfast.

I chose WISELY.

Greetings and salutations dear readers!

Today Mina and I set off on a cross state trip to visit the various ballparks that dot the southern california landscape. Now, normally, my vow to never again set foot in Angel Stadium, would prevent me from full participating in such an adventure. I hate the Angels as a team with the same passion that I hate the Ducks. It's a burning, deep seated hatred born out of being in socal during the 2002 World Series. (stoopid monkey!) But the lure of meeting the venerable Earl Sleek got me to agree to once again set foot inside this accursed stadium. Mina also tried to lure out Rudy Kelly, but he declined, thus adding to my belief that he is, in fact, a figment of our imaginations.

For Mina, this marks a journey into the heart of the enemy; Dodger Stadium. I've been there before and it's a wonderful ballpark, if just a tad on the fighty side. The traditional upper deck activities were amusing, although they did bring into question why anyone in their right mind would give away fold-able paper products. The FAA was called out to make sure that all the paper airplanes shooting about weren't going to have any mid air collisions.

We will also be hitting Petco Park, right during the insanity that is Comic Con before the insanity that is Comic Con. I suspect the park will be relatively empty as the local citizens will have fled to avoid to smell of mass quantities of nerds running around in their fair city. (I've been to Comic Con. Folks, let me tell you there are some FUNKY ass smells going on in there. It's a cool event, but seriously people, shower please!)

So off we go, into the wild, dusty yonder. I can smell Harris Ranch already.

It smells like cow butt.

Well you know you've been really busy when you miss your own blog's birthday. On 6/21/07 we burst onto the blogging scene with this lovely and amazing insight:

"Coming soon to a couch near you!"

As you can see, we've been about hard hitting blogging since day one.

The cartoons started in 2008 and looking back at them, man, did those come a long way. So happy birthday to us! My we continue to blather incoherently and about Dan Boyle's Abs and the Sharks for years to come! Maybe one day with less typos.

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So much for the summer being quiet and slow, eh? There have been some interesting moves going on across the league, many the result of poor cap management in this new era of poor economic outlook. The biggest splash so far in Teal Town has been the Sharks signing Niklas Hjalmarsson to an offer sheet. This move is super ballsy by DW and I absolutely love it. 14 mil over 4 years is crazy money, but this guy is good and it's clear DW is willing to play hard ball to secure his services.

The downside of this is, if the Sharks do succeed in snagging Hjalmarsson, someone will have to go. Seto, having opted to not file for arbitration, has to be close in getting a deal done with SJ, so it's less likely that this deal will negatively affect him. Possible trade bate seems to be Murray (NO), Clowe (NO) and Huskins (I would be ok with this. Not a hater just, he's making more than I agree with). All conjecture at this point, but interesting nonetheless.

The other big Shark related summer story so far has been the signing of Nabokov to the KHL. This is not a move I saw coming if only because I was pretty damn sure SOMEONE in the NHL would be dying to get their hands on Nabby. I know, he's not the best goalie in the world, but he IS GOOD and he could really help out some teams that need a more solid presence in net. Not only that but he's a work horse and would easily give any team that signed him 60+ games.

At first I saw this move as a reflection of Nabby's lack of desire to win the Cup, but I have since revised my views. This is a guy who wants to play. It was clear come July 1st that while folks might have been interested, his price was likely a little too high. The KHL seized this opportunity to get a world class player to come play for them, and Nabby, wanting to play, took it. It's shocking to know that I watched his last few games in the NHL (not to say he won't come back but at his age it is less likely), and that he spent them all as a Shark. My personal hope is that, maybe, just maybe, really didn't want to play for anyone BUT the Sharks and opted for the KHL out of a fondness for his old organization. I'm trying to avoid falling into the "greedy jerk" trap with him. I don't know his motivations, but I have a lot of fondness for the guy who was the man in net for the Sharks for some many years so I'm inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt here. (even if Toskala was my first love in net)

On the upside, it means we don't have to deal with the ridiculously sticky and overhyped game where the Sharks face Nabby for the first time as a memeber of the opposition. I don't know about you, but I was NOT looking forward to having to play against him. That game pretty much just had "train wreck" written all over it.

What saddens me about this, I think more than anything, is knowing that Nabby has moved on to the KHL while Turco will likely be signed by someone out of quiet desperation this summer. Look, I love Marty as a person, he's absolutely hilarious, and he used to be very solid in net. But he's past his heyday now and I fell like dragging out the end of his career is cruel and unusual punishment for the man.

That and I REALLY don't want him on the Sharks.