It's fairly transparent that I'm a baseball fan--have been ever since I was a kid. But I'm not one of those pigheaded fans, loyal to a single team. I love the game and I love the sport--but no professional team means more to me than baseball itself. Sure, Yanks rule and Red Sox suck. But just because my team lost doesn't mean I don't care.

I think that attitude is represented best in the clothes I wear. While I wouldn't be caught dead in a Boston cap, I would be willing to wear attire from every other team in baseball. I have over a dozen different caps from a dozen different teams. It doesn't mean I like Padres more than the Cardinals--it's just because I love baseball. The same philosophy applies for shirts, too. Dodgers, Brewers, Angels--it really doesn't matter to me (especially if the shirt is free).

The Angels made the playoffs this year. It used to be a rare occurrence and I could make wisecracks about the world coming to an end, but with four playoff appearances in the past six seasons I suppose it's time I keep my mouth shut. This week the Angels had and event called Rally Monday--which was basically just a pep rally for Angel fans at the Big A. Since I work for a local television station, it was only a logical fit that we send a crew out there to cover the event.

It was a pretty cool event for me 'cause as a member of the press, I got to walk on the field of Angel Stadium. There I was, standing where the pros stand (and unlike Garrett Anderson, I actually hustled). I took some photos of me on the field and ran my fingers through the outfield grass. It was a pretty awesome sight.

"Hey man, you better take the shirt off," I heard someone yell from the crowd.

Now normally I welcome any invitation to shed clothes (especially if someone is waving dollar bills in front of me), but this request seemed a little unusually coming from a fat man with a goofy red wig.

"Huh?"

"That shirt--you can't wear a Dodger shirt at Angel Stadium."

He was right. That morning I unknowingly decided to wear a Dodger shirt. It was just a shirt--the only clean one I could find--and I didn't think anything of it when I put it on. But now I was standing at home plate of Angel Stadium wearing a Dodger shirt.

The fat man in the red wig started playfully booing at me and a couple of his buddies joined in. But it wasn't anything to be concerned about because I expressed my deepest sympathies--and I wanted to point out to all the Angel fans just how much the Dodgers sucked this year. This got all of them laughing and we had good fun with it.

I had to go out to our production truck for some equipment and when I returned to field, I noticed that the crowd of fans had gotten bigger. Again I got some boos from the fat man. He was playfully mocking me; unfortunately, more of the crowd realized what was a wearing...and the whole section started to boo me.

I had to take another trip to truck. Along the way, I stopped to watch the Padre-Rockie game on TV. Twenty minutes later, I returned to the field. At this point, the event was filled up. From first base to third base, three levels up was filled with Angel fans decked in red. As I walked toward my camera, I was greeted by an even larger chorus of boos. It was deafening--15,000 fans booing me, the 'Dodger fan,' at Angel Stadium.

I know I've left a lot of people disappointed in life (the girlfriend, my parents, my parole officer), but I've never had so many people hate me at once. I felt like Barry Bonds--only with a smaller head. 'Cause let's face it, you gotta do something pretty awful to get 15,000 people to simultaneously boo you (unless we're talking about K-Fed).

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