After doing particularly well on a final exam this spring, I marched triumphantly to the front of the room, exam in hand. I placed it on the professor's desk, wished him a good summer, and started for the door. Just as I was leaving the room, I sensed someone sneaking up on me. It was too late. A classmate hit me in the face with a pie. What can I say? We had class chemistry. I mean chemistry class.

O.K. that was terrible. Anyway, it started slowly, but the Indians' pie phenomenon reached a tipping point a few weeks ago, probably when someone in the marketing department (Amy Michelson? Who knows?) created a "Rally Pie" highlight package and accompanying graphics for Jacobs Field's many video screens. Set to the insufferable "movie song," fans get to watch most of the active roster get belted with pies during post-game interviews. Even if you haven't seen it in person, the birth of the rally pie won't come as news. STO has created pie-themed commercials of their own and the Plain Dealer got in on it with another oh-so-witty headline.

As a kid, I remember watching the bubble gum-hatting '95 team and high sock-socking '97 team and hearing these kinds of chemistry-building pushed the teams over the top and into the World Series. While I know that's untrue, I have no problem with the "good chemistry" of the face-pieing 2007 Indians. At least it saves the fans from incessant updates on what goes on behind closed doors. Just be glad the team doesn't have any clubhouse cancers, like Jon Lester.

I do have problems, however, with the pies themselves—if one can call them that. Since when is shaving cream in a towel a pie? Now, I'm assuming the white foamy substance in the towel in this clip is shaving cream, because, seriously, who puts whipped cream in a towel? I realize this was probably just the one of his first attacks, and Trot Nixon hadn't yet solidified his methods. But even nowadays, when an Indian gets a pie to the face, it's just whipped cream on a styrofoam plate. While this passes for pie on Nickelodeon, no one sits down to dessert for a plateful of ReddiWip.

Whipped cream on a styrofoam plate has passed for pies in show business for decades—mainly for reasons of cost, I imagine. Being bombarded by real pies could set you back a pretty penny, while whipped cream and disposable plates remain cheap. However, professional baseball players aren't on much of a budget. Trot Nixon is slated to make approximately $3 million this year, or about $20,000 per game. I think Trot, or any Indian for that matter, can afford a real pie. And how cool would it be to see Travis Hafner wiping sticky blueberry goo off of his face and out of his goatee?

If the Indians want to really take the rally pie to the next level, I have a few suggestions: (1) real pies—the players could easily afford ten for every home game, and it would make a direct hit more fun; (2) mix it up when someone gets pied—players know to be on the lookout during television interviews, but what about when jogging back to the dugout or when coming in from the bullpen? (3) Can they construct some sort of pie pod? A pie slide or coaster would be best. I could really get behind that.

It's been far too long since my last installment of Concessions Reviews. In case you're unfamiliar, for four summers now I've been grading the food choices at Jacobs Field, in a futile attempt to try everything they offer. If you want to catch up on my gustatory exploits of yore, click here for a menu of previous installments.

Tonight's game may not have been a winner for the Tribe, but I got to try a few new items, plus some old standbys. Let me just say that I love love love Dollar Dog Night--not because I like to eat dollars or dogs, but because there are virtually no lines at any of the "specialty" concessions stands, even despite near-capacity crowds.

Anyway, here's what I sampled:

Chicken Breast Sandwich. A mainstay at most stadiums, baseball and other, I've found it's surprisingly easy to screw up a simple chicken sandwich. Luckily, the Jacobs Field chicken sandwich, while unoriginal, has no major flaws. The chicken is actual white meat, and not too dry. The lettuce and tomato are relatively fresh. And the overall mildness of flavor makes the sandwich an excellent delivery device for some tangy Stadium Mustard. Grade: B+

Cheesesteak. As far as I know, this item is only available at the pavilion in center field. It wasn't quite what I expected--I had more of a classic Philly cheesesteak in mind when Alex and I saw this on the menu. Instead, we got a sandwich on a hoagie roll with thin-sliced beef, grilled peppers and onions (not unlike an Italian beef sandwich), and shredded, un-melted cheese underneath the beef. It works fine on a flavor level, but I would still prefer the classic. Also, it's a little too similar to the "Cleveland Bombers" sandwich, available at the very same concessions window. Grade: C+

Steak fries. I've never been much of a fan of Jacobs Field's regular fries, so I was glad when, last year, they introduced new specialty fries at the "Slider's Diner" locations. Similarly, I was glad this evening to find thick-cut steak fries for sale at the stand where we bought the cheesesteak. I don't swear by a particular size or cut of french fry, but I have always loved steak fries. These were no exception. Grade: A-

Brownie. At one of the Strickland's locations on the first base side of the main concourse, they offer baked goods such as cookies, muffins (which are frosted... doesn't that make them cupcakes?) and fudge brownies, available in a few different styles. I went for the one with white chocolate chips, but they also have brownies topped with powdered sugar, nuts (not sure what kind), and something else (don't remember). The brownie was a little gooey for my preference, but had a very good taste. Grade: B

Corey and I have been writing the Mistake by the Lake Sporting Times since July 6, 2004 now, or for 158 weeks. Knowing only that, you could predict (with statistical significance) that we'll continue at it for more than 28 days and less than 118 years. Yes, I'm sorry to say, there probably won't be a Mistake by the Lake Sporting Times for the Cleveland sports fan in 2125.

That seems self-evident and pretty stupid at first glance. Of course we're unlikely to still be writing this blog in the twenty-second century. And, barring some tragedy, we'll no doubt live on for another month or so. But the reasoning behind the prediction, the Copernican Principle, doesn't care how unlikely a tragedy is, because it simply predicts how long something will last only given only one input: how long that thing's been around in the first place.

I first read about this line of thinking and its champion J. Richard Gott III in a New York Times article a week ago. As John Tierney explains much more eloquently, the rationale is to assume that our viewing point is not a special one. The 158th week in the life of the Mistake by the Lake Sporting Times isn't much different than any other week. There's a 95-percent chance it's within the middle 95 percent of our blog's lifetime. Do the math and the bounds of that middle 95 percent are 28 days on the short end and 118 years on the long.

Fortunately, I can apply this quick and easy calculation to just about anything (chances are I'll live between 28 more weeks and 821 more years), but usually get laughably large ranges of time. Nevertheless, I'm soldiering on and perhaps we'll learn something interesting.

• Cleveland's championship-less streak (dating back to December 28, 1964) should end sometime between August 23, 2008 and July 12, 3667. Sorry 2007 Indians, it doesn't look good for you. However a title's pretty much in the bag before 3668. So, at least Cleveland gets one in before we're enslaved by our ape overlords!
• Ryan Garko's current 14-game hitting streak will likely end between tonight and 546 games from now, or near the end of the 2010 season. Thus the intergalactic hitting streak record of 561 games set by Iggglot of the N'Kluoq V Professional Baseball Union is probably out of the question.
• How about what's sure to be one of the hottest topics of the upcoming Browns season: whether Romeo Crennel will still be head coach at the end of the year? Well, Crennel was hired 127 weeks ago, on February 8, 2005. So, I predict he'll keep his job at least until fourteenth day of training camp on August 13, but probably not past 2103. Young offensive coordinator Rob Chudzinski should be ready to take over the job by then anyway.
• And what about the newly-created and soon-to-be AHL powerhouse Lake Erie Monsters? The best I can tell, the team as we know it has been official since January 25, or for 178 days. It'd be reasonable to say then that the team will fold in between this Thursday and the middle of 2026. So, get those tickets now!

It goes without saying that predictions like these can be made more accurate with additional information, like the likelihood of Ryan Garko getting a hit during any at-bat or the fact that Romeo Crennel probably won't live past the age of 140. We're only dealing with one input, after all. Still I find these calculations interesting to ponder—for example, we can rest assured our great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-granchildren will have more recent Cleveland championships than the '64 Browns to relive on their holodecks.

As a final prediction, I tried to compute the duration of LeBron's awesomeness. But all that I could get was "USER ERROR." I suppose Copernicus just couldn't deal with some celestial bodies.

We get a lot of reader mail, and sometimes we fall a little behind in responding to it all, what with the 13 jobs, the constant travelling in Eastern Europe, the taking care of our secret black sheep younger brother, Gomer, and of course, karate practice. That's why we're taking some time this All-Star Break to clean out the ol' mailbox. We did a Browns mailbag during the Browns' bye week, and a Cavs mailbag during the NBA All-Star Break, so here you go: it's an all-Indians mailbag. Enjoy, everybody, and keep writin' those great, great letters!

Hey guys,

When's the best time to call up Adam Miller?

Your Biggest Fan,
Anonymous
Location Redacted

Alex says: Miller seemingly has been the Indians' top pitching prospect since being drafted in 2003. During spring training, it was an open secret that he was going to be sent to Buffalo initially, but that when the first pitcher faltered, Miller would be called up. The all-too-predictable implosions of Robert O'Hernandez and Jeremy Sowers would've been perfect times for Miller to stick in Cleveland, but unfortunately he was nursing an injured middle finger. And so he remains in Buffalo.

I don't like leaving a young pitcher in the minors to get some "seasoning" when he's clearly ready to be called up. Fortunately, Miller is past all that. His half-season in Triple-A should constitute enough seasoning to placate anyone. Miller ought to be brought up now and pitching out of the bullpen. Call it the "Johan Santana Plan," if you'd like. Saving a young pitcher's arm from abuse for a couple of years is a great low-risk strategy and one particularly suited to the 2007 Indians—considering their established rotation.

The problem is who to send down. The best option is likely Jason Stanford. Miller would be well-suited to fill his role as swingman at first, and could later take on higher-leverage situations if he proves successful. Unfortunately, Stanford is out of options and losing him for a call-up that isn't urgent would be costly. Rafael Perez has options left, but he has been one of the team's better relievers.

If you want to get radical with roster construction (and we here at the Mistake by the Lake always do), why not send down Tom Mastny? The "Starta from Jakarta" started the season hot, but overall has been the team's second-worst reliever to Hernandez, with -4.4 Adjusted Runs Prevented. Mastny nominally may be a setup man, but of late, putting him in a game is throwing gasoline on the fire: since June 1, he has an ERA of 7.62 and allowed a line of .352/.500/.426 (in an admittedly small sample).

Sending down Mastny would probably be unpopular at first—he was pretty clutchy last year as closer—but in the end, wouldn't hurt the team much. Plus I want to see Miller in an Indians jersey sooner rather than later.

Dear Mistake by the Lake,

I haven't been able to make to the Jake yet this season. Are there any new food items I should try when I finally make it? Come to think of it, whatever happened to Concession Reviews? Thanks guys.

Guy M.
Isle of Man

Corey says: First of all, Concessions Reviews lives, I swear! I will make sure to post a new installment relatively soon. Unfortunately, I don't believe I've seen a single new-for-2007 concessions item at Jacobs Field, in my various trips there this season. Alex previously waxed prosaic about the subtraction of a beloved Jacobs Field concessions item in 2007, of course, but I haven't noticed any additions. I guess we'll have to wait until next year for the roll-out of Slider's Lad Nar Noodles and Chief Wahoo's Cherry Cheese Blintzes.

One food-related thing that is new this season—and I can't believe I haven't blogged about this already—is that our beloved Hot Dog Race has graduated from scoreboard-viewed to live action! I am all about the new hot dog races, although, at my last check, valiant, trustworthy Mustard was trailing soulless, conniving Ketchup by one or two races in the season standings. C'mon, Mustard! Overthrow those cheating, corporate Pittsburgh ketchup boosters!

Dear guys,

Everyone knows the Indians are going to blow it again. They always do. Chokers.

R.K.
Elyria, OH

Alex says: R, history is certainly on your side. The Indians haven't made the playoffs in five-and-a-half long and painful seasons. Though, they only came close the past three years. In 2004, the Indians made a surprising push but faltered against the eventual AL Central-champion Twins. In 2005, a collapse during the season's final weekend kept the team out of the playoffs. Last year, they defied high expectations and sucked from the start. Who knows about 2007? But then again, a string of three straights seasons with bad luck or disappointing play doesn't make for much of a sample size.

As a sports fan, I tend to err on the side of optimism. After all, isn't watching baseball supposed to give you joy? Right now, the Tribe has a 75.2% chance of making the postseason. Which sounds good to me. If they do falter in the end, I'll be upset like everyone else. But why not root them on now and try to enjoy the pennant chase?

Corey Brothers,

I'm hungering for some new nicknames—you guys are the masters! Can't you do something with Garko or Ben Francisco?

Alex R.
Cleveland Heights, OH

Corey says: Hmm, is that a challenge? Let's see here... Ben Francisco... Ben Francisco... how about "Rice-a-Roni" (the Ben Francisco treat)?

Ryan Garko... okay, bear with me on this one: Ryan Dvarko. That way, when we apply the A-Rod corollary, we can shorten it to R-Dvark. Which is fitting, you know, because, ask any aardvark in Cleveland—they love Ryan Garko. The ladies love Grady Sizemore ("Grady's Ladies"); the Jews love Shin-Soo Choo ("Choo's Jews"); the aardvarks love Ryan Garko ("R-Gark's Aardvarks"... who happen to root for R-Dvark... okay, admittedly it's not a perfect construct).

Here's a nickname for you: Kelly "Shomer" Shoppach. (Goyim, I'll save you the trouble.) Anyway, I hope this helps, and thanks for reading!

Hey Mistakesports On the Lake,

So, are the Indians playing up to their ESPINOZA projections?

M. O'Polo
Bucklick, SC

Alex says: Well, Marc, it turns out that the original ESPINOZA predictions I published were faulty. My research assistants had forgotten to account for the road construction on Euclid Avenue and Superior Avenue. Soon after I first posted the forecasts, I caught this error and reran the program with the new adjustment. I didn't feel it pertinent to publish these results as well, since they were nearly identical to the original set, but rest assured: they have proven wholly, 100% accurate so far this season.

Dear Mistaken by a Lakes Sporting Times,

Joe Borowski is the greatest. He has the toughness and grit it takes to be a closer. How come you haven't written more articles about him?

Julie Davner
Seatac, WA

Corey says: Julie, I see that you are under the impression that to be a closer requires some degree of "toughness" and "grit" above and beyond the "toughness" and "grit" necessary for being a normal major league reliever. For my sake, let's not have that argument right now. Let me simply point out that Joe Borowski's actual, physical, quantifiable pitching has been about sixth-best among Indians relievers in 2007. Rafael Betancourt is far and away the team's best reliever, of that there should be no doubt. But Rafael Perez, Aaron Fultz, Tom Mastny, and Fernando Cabrera all also lead Borowski in ERA and VORP (despite pitching far fewer innings, in a few cases). Borowski also trails Betancourt, Perez, and Fultz in ARP, edging Cabrera only by having pitched many more innings (Mastny, for some reason, has a terrible ARP).

Now, Borowski has pitched in higher leverage situations than any pitcher on the Indians roster, so it's safe to say he's had a bigger impact in terms of deciding the outcomes of games, but, on a pitch-by-pitch basis, he has performed below par. I am grateful that his performance thus far has been just good enough to avoid major disaster (ie: losing a lot of games late), but I am less than confident in Joe's ability to maintain that [acceptable but admittedly less than ideal] standard.

Dear Corey,

This is you in the future. I am sending you this message from the year 2042. I have extremely important information for you. Some time in the next 13 minutes, you will be invited to join a dangerous Arctic mining expedition. It is IMPERATIVE that you join this expedition at all costs!!! You'll thank me later. Oh, and by the way: you were totally wrong about Joe Borowski. Turns out he goes on to lead the New Berea OctoDawgs of the New Greater Cleveland Lunar Colony League to consecutive Solar System Series titles in 2016 and 2017.

Your buddy,
Dr. Corey Rubin
J-Omega Space Penitentiary

Corey says: Um, thanks?

To understand the connection between Cleveland, Ohio and the tiny town of Port Burwell, Ontario, you should probably read (or re-read) this post I wrote in August 2005. Essentially, I discovered that Port Burwell is the one and only town in all of Canada that is closer to Cleveland than to any other major city. Thus, based purely on geography, it stands to reason the people there would be huge Indians, Browns, and Cavaliers fans.

Since making that hypothesis, Port Burwell has become something of a mini-obsession for Alex and me (see, for example, this post from August 2006). So I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when Alex suggested we take a Port Burwell road trip on Canada Day 2007 (which also happened to be Alex's 21st birthday). What follows is a brief photo montage of our journey.

For starters, we determined that it would take roughly the same amount of time to get to Port Burwell via the westerly route (through Detroit) than via the easterly route (through Buffalo). So we decided we might as well make a big loop around Lake Erie. We started out by going west, crossing into Canada on the Ambassador Bridge in Detroit/Windsor:



Not long after that, we discovered Port Burwell was, well, off the beaten track. We traveled over some very rural roads, but got to see some very idyllic countryside:





Finally, we reached our destination:



Port Burwell is a quaint little town, with a number of shops and restaurants along a main street that leads down to the beach. On the other side of town is a provincial park and campsite, which make Port Burwell a popular tourist destination (we gathered). In no time, we were familiarizing ourselves with the local sights:





The historic lighthouse was the first one to be built on the Canadian side of Lake Erie (if memory serves).



We didn't sample any of the world-class Canadian and Chinese food at Burwell's Cove restaurant, but we did enjoy some fresh-caught perch and pickerel at a restaurant across the street.

Not long after our arrival, it was time for the big Canada Day parade. The locals, prettied up in Canadian flag attire, gathered on the sidewalks:



The parade featured a number of dignitaries, such as the mayor:



The highlight was probably the shipful of those legendary Canadian pirates:



Following the parade, the crowd traveled up the road to the site of the new visitor's center for the Lake Erie wind farm--a seemingly never-ending row of massive wind turbines that line the Canadian Erie shore in the vicinity of Port Burwell. We gathered the turbines had been constructed within the last couple years, but Port Burwell was holding the ribbon cutting for their new visitor's center that day. There were speeches, and, as promised, cake.





Okay, so the visitor's center was a little underwhelming, but the wind turbines were cool.

Later, we decided to storm (read: make our way down to) the beach and officially mark our (ie: Cleveland's) territory.





(Alex is pointing toward Cleveland in this picture.)



"I hereby claim this land... FOR CLEVELAND!!!"



The people of Port Burwell barely batted an eye at us. Clearly, they know full well in whose territory they lie. In fact, they had already erected this sign:



(Oh, in case you're confused--km, we figured out, is some kind of wacky Canadian unit of distance. It stands for Kanadian miles.)

Later, we stopped at Port Burwell's trusty gas station to fill up the ol' tank before making the journey home. Unfortunately, the people who run the gas station must be confused or something, because they measure gas in these crazy things called "litres", on top of which, I'm not even sure they know how much a "dollar" is.



Never fear; we made it all the way back to the U.S. in one piece. We crossed the Peace Bridge into Buffalo, NY:



All told, we traversed more than 600 miles (that's, I don't know, like 100,000 Kanadian miles), in the most exciting pointless endeavor ever undertaken by a Clevelander. So, the next time you're relaxing by the shores of Lake Erie, raise a frosty brew to your brothers to the north--those brave Port Burwellians, representing our fair city proudly.

In case you've missed it, the Mistake by the Lake Sporting Times was featured in the Metro section of today's Plain Dealer. To the intrepid few who took the initiative to find our blog after reading about it in the paper, I salute you. You'd probably like to see the source, Parking at Indians Games: A Guide. And when you're done with that, go nuts. Poke around in our archives, which you'll find to the right. And to everyone else, enjoy an extra hot dog slathered with stadium mustard for us today.