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Re: haysaw post# 36464

Tuesday, 03/29/2011 9:56:53 AM

Tuesday, March 29, 2011 9:56:53 AM

Post# of 51150
In Boston's Fenway Park, where the Red Sox play, there is an area in the right field bleachers, the (relatively) cheap seats, that extends up to the back wall. Those seats are 450 feet or more from the plate. That's where you'll often find a middle-aged guy who peers in without benefit of binoculars, bleary-eyed from four or five beers, convinced that he can call balls and strikes better than the umpires, and could utilize the roster better than the manager. On a night that the Sox are losing, he starts to yell insults and obscenities at the field, and the people around him shrink away from the spittle and the risk that the beer may make a sudden return. He doesn't care: He paid his money, he bought his ticket, and he is 100% certain that he knows the game better than those overpaid clowns on the field and in the dugout.

You're that guy.

NeuroInvestment

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