Well, it only took me getting shat on by a pidgeon twice, but in the end I managed to help Your Los Angeles Dodgers defeat the lowly Gnats, er "Nats," in Game One of Think Blue Week, 5-4.

We had a hell of an entertaining game this evening. Two sub-par teams duking it out to be crowned King of RFK: MLB's 2005 Toilet Bowl champions.

Toilet Bowl in more ways than one.

During the bottom of the eighth, when the Nats rallied to pull within a run of tying on deplorable Dodger setup pitching, 19th Hole and I found ourselves not only staring at the field in terror, but above our heads in terror too.

Let me back up - we got hooked up with USA Today season tickets, which are officially the worst great seats in any stadium. Bottom level, great view...but directly below a perch gathering for pidgeons.

...It's not like we didn't see it coming.

The first time, the demon-bird nailed me right in the crotch. 'Surprisingly good aim. A few minutes later, after I'd scrubbed off my shorts in the bathroom, Hole and I found ourselves staring up at the bastard, contemplating his next move, when suddenly he shat again - right as we were looking up. No joke - we both jumped safely out of the blast radius, but it did cause a little scene.

So the Dodgers put on a rare home run clinic this evening - five runs on four, count 'em four homers off Nats pitching. It was fun to watch but as Hole pointed out, "You live by the longball, you die by the longball." Sure enough, in the eighth, while we took a smoke break out by the condiments, we heard the stadium erupting with energy. 'Never good if you're cheering for the visitors. The Nats had two runners on base with no outs and the tying run at the plate.

Of course I darted back to my seat - you put your guard down for one goddamn minute and all hell breaks loose.

The Nats score a run, still no outs.

Then, a pidgeon shits on me. ... Again! I really wish I were kidding.

This is not a good omen. It's like that blue bird on Six Feet Under a few weeks ago that wound up dead, heralding Nate's death this past week.

This is the point where Hole and I start alternating our worried gaze between the field and the steel bars above.

Well fortunately the Dodgers escaped by the skin of their teeth - right down to Dodger closer Yhency Brazoban's bad throw to first to end the game.

They had some help from the Nats fans, though, who are undeniably the worst fans in Major League Baseball.

After that eighth inning rally, where the Nats closed to within one? The stadium clears out. They give up! I mean, I was stunned. At Dodger Stadium, anyone trying that crap would get pelted with overpriced Miller Lite on their way out. If that's not bad karma to end your team's chances, I don't know what is.

Then again, maybe their exit - deflating all energy and mojo out of RFK - had something to do with the 90-degree weather at 9:30 pm in the goddamn motherfucking evening. Is there room on the Dodger charter flight back to God's Country...?

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to switch my shorts from the washer to the dryer.