Dear Dodger Fandom:
I live among you now, and in an effort to assimilate myself and learn your ways, I tagged along to one of your base-ball games last week.
I was hoping things would be different, Dodger Fandom. I really want us to be friends. The problem is that most of you were dressed like this:
I ask you this: How can I buddy up to grown-ass men wearing women’s sunglasses?
How can I relate to women who tie their hair back with actual rubber bands? Breakage! HelLO!
That’s not dirt. It’s back hair. Back hair on a man wearing a sleeveless basketball jersey to a baseball game (I don’t even want to talk about the hat):
I want to like you, Dodgers. I want to walk among you and talk stats and cheer for that one outfielder of yours who wears the blue knee socks (seriously, what’s his name? Can I keep him?), but I just don’t think this was meant to be.
Oh, honey, no.
It’s not me. It’s you.