In Hiroshima, after the game, we met Ramirez and he shook my hand! (And my hand smelled like him all evening long -- he must have used a TON of aftershave! It actually smelled really nice, though, and I couldn't stop sniffing my hand. And I tried to make other people smell it. And I never, ever, ever washed it again. And now it's kinda dirty. Now I'm making stuff up.)
I was just standing at the bar, talking with the owner and suddenly Ramirez appeared next to me. I was flabbergasted! I took him to the room where my pals were so they could meet him and then I shot this picture. He was nice to us, even though it looked like he was there to meet friends. My buddy on the left got Ramirez's autograph (on the back of my ticket!) for his wife.
Of course, I was just happy to meet a good-lookin' bald guy with big muscles and a big smile!
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