I try to be accepting of a wide range of fan behavior, from stoic reverence to drunken idiocy (I did some intensive research into the drunken idiocy side of things on Friday night). But I do draw lines at certain points, i.e. ravenous greed for free promotional items.
I took my little brother Nic, “The Dude,” a former Baltimoron, to see the O’s get reamed on Sunday. We ran to the Park in the rain, grabbed our Polish Racing Sausage Bobbleheads and went to a bathroom to dry our own heads with paper towels. Dude set his bobblehead on the counter above the sink and stood off to the side, in front of the mirror. We watched in dismay as some asshole glanced over his shoulders, each way, snatched the souvenir and made for the door.
“Uh, I think that’s mine,” The Dude sheepishly chimed in as the thief rushed through the door.
“Oh,” the creep panicked, then apparently decided he hadn’t already shown himself to be a total loser. “You shouldn’t leave your stuff just laying around.”
I stepped toward him and put on my James-Gandolfini-from-Sopranos-Season-1 growl.
“Why? Because you think you’re just going to take it?”
This drew “Oh yeah, tough guy?” eyebrows from both Nic and I, and the coward-crook backed down.
“I mean… you should just be more careful with your stuff,” he said, handing over the bobblehead.
In an act of altruism, we let him walk away — he was a Brewers fan, after all. I will not speculate about the unattractiveness of his girlfriend or his need to sell the trinket ($15 on Craigslist?) and use the funds to buy a new shirt — as Jay says “y’all dudes acting way too tough / throw on a suit, get it tapered up.”
But I will shame him on the Internets, and ask: Please, get a life.
If he had asked for my Polish bobble, I would put it at 50/50 I would have given it. I’m giving it away anyway — it’s not like it’s Prince or something.