Give 'em Some Stankeye!

Remember those sunny days at Mays Field, where you'd go with your old man or your girlfriend to catch some rays in the bleachers? You'd take in the scenic bay view, kick back for some garlic fries and a brew, and just relax and watch some baseball. Just an idyllic scenario, something that would make W.P. Kinsella wipe the tears from his eyes and on to the paper where he writes his unreadable and pretentious prose.

Remember also the time when you decided to take your little lady up for a ride down the Coke slide behind the left field bleachers, and, as you went down, you caught your foot on a turn, broke your ankle, and were left totally unable to walk? Ah, baseball at the park. It just brings families together.

Wait, what? That's right, the Coke slide at Mays Field is apparently a veritable death trap, as several people have gotten seriously injured while riding on it and have made their voices heard through law suits. One person was already awarded $177,000 after getting hurt, and now it looks like the Giants and Coca-Cola are going to be dishing out more money for their contraption that would make Arcade proud.

Now Bill Neukom has to figure out what to do about the damn slide before the gates open and thousands of fans risk mortal injury on the Guzzler. I can't help but think of the mayor in Jaws, who knows there's a man-eating shark out there, but he keeps the beaches open in search of a profit, and poor Alex Kintner* gets eaten. If Neukom dismantles the slide, he'll save some people from injury and save himself from court. If he doesn't, many kids (and kids-at-heart) just won't get to have their fun, and isn't Coca-Cola paying a lot of money to advertise on that thing?

It personally have never gone on the slide. I figured it's only for kids and, I mean, just look at the thing. It looks like a monstrous medieval torture device. It's crooked, narrow, and just screams pelvic injury from the moment you lay eyes on it. So with the latest injury news, excuse me if I stick to my old Mays Field pastime: going twelve rounds with Lou Seal in the bleachers.

* Okay, how unbelievably pathetic is it that I know, without having to consult IMDb or anything, the name of the kid who got killed by the shark in that one scene in Jaws? I mean, yeah, it's like one of my favorite movies, but should only mean that I know most of the lines to Quint's U.S.S. Indianapolis speech (which I do by the way). But the kid on the raft? I think I may have just had what alcoholics refer to as "a moment of clarity".

You didn't think I was going to let you get away without an Irish-related St. Patrick's Day video did you? Before you freak out and think I'm going to indulge my U2 obsession again, no, we've got something that just might make you cry.