Ahh, Aruba. The ultimate get-away. An escape from the daily grind of the baseball season. Or, so I thought.
While vacationing in Aruba with my wife a couple years ago, we decided to sign up for a pub crawl.
Our plan: get away from the tourist traps, catch some of the local flare, consume a few Balashi's.
Near the end of our trip, and three-sheets beyond the wind, we arrive at a rickety destination in the outskirts of Paradise.
Tiny neighborhood pub with wood floors, oozing with island character, on an off-the-beaten path in Aruba, situated barely 15 miles from the coast of Venezuela.
And, what do I hear emanating from the television? No kidding, it was the all-too familiar chimings of George Grande and Chris Welsh.
Of all the satellite viewing options available to them, this random watering hole in Paradise chose Reds baseball on FSN Ohio.
For me, there is truly no escape.
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