Being a Guide for the Grouchy Grandstandee.
These "do nots" have been arranged, compiled and hammered together with
a view to rendering assistance to the spectator whose thinking machinery
climbs out over his collar, and who shows symptoms of being dazed and
disorderly during the progress of a game.
Don't have any regard for the feelings of your neighbors. Get up on the
slightest provocation and yell. To make matters more exciting you had
better get up on the back of the seat also.
Don't stop to make a careful selection of the English language before
addressing the universe at large when the play is not to your liking.
Say the first thing that comes into your mind. Doubtless, it will be
glad to get out.
Don't pay any attention to the fact that ladies are in the immediate
neighborhood. Your money is just as good as theirs. Besides, it's a
man's privilege to swear and make a howling idiot of himself.
Don't fail to keep up a running comment on the general inefficiency of
the visiting club. The majority of those who sit near you came out to
the game especially to hear your views on this subject.
Don't neglect to call him a fat-headed renegade every time one of the
home players makes an error. The home players need to be reproved at
times, and nothing is quite so reproving as the term fat-headed renegade
hurled at them by a bibulous gentleman with a subterbeerean voice.
Don't hesitate to tell all who are listening--and, if your voice is
as convalescent as usual, everybody in your section of the Western
Hemisphere will have to listen--that you know more about the game than
Pop Anson and Pop Anson's younger brother, Methuselah. Under certain
circumstances modesty is a crime; therefore, you should not commit a
crime by withholding this information.
Don't forget the umpire. Don't forget him for one little moment. He will
notice it if you do, and become miserably unhappy. Tell him what you
think of him unceasingly. There is nothing so pleasing to an umpire's
ears as the sweet strains of a whiskey-trimmed voice ringing softly on
the evening air: "Hey, red-light, youse is a robber an' a thief!"
Umpires love to be criticised in this manner. With every criticism they
brace up wonderfully, and their straying sense of justice returns.
You've noticed this fact, of course.
Don't hesitate to insult a player on the field. Remember, it is very
hard for him to pick you out of the crowd. Besides, if he does, and
jumps over the rail for the purpose of putting his imprint on your
slats, you can scream for help. The police will probably wake up and
come to your assistance.
Don't forget to use the most blood-curdling and decorative style of
language now on the market when you engage in the pleasing duty of
hurting a player's feelings. This will attract attention to you from all
quarters, and will stamp you as a gentleman of the aber-nit style of
architecture.
Don't pay any attention to the uneasiness displayed by those about you
who came out for the selfish purpose of enjoying the game. If they
cannot enjoy you and your lung-power exhibit, they should stay at home.
Keep right on utilizing your vocal chords. Chatter on incessantly. Be a
consistent ass until the last man is out and the umpire crawls into his
cyclone cellar. Then go home and bathe what's left of your voice in
witch hazel, and get ready for the morrow.