An asylum is only as good as its inmates, so here we are back in Anaheim, trying to make sense of these crazy Angels.
Never have a bad time down here. Angel Stadium is strangely atmospheric, the forest green seats darkening an already moody ballpark. The O.C. seems to be all about sunlight and sequined surf. Yet, this low-def stadium looks like it belongs in downtown Detroit.
Actually, that’s what it reminds me of — old Tiger Stadium, a dump among dumps. But that old joint reeked of beer, ballpark mustard and stale coffee. So, naturally, I found it felt much like home.