That's right everyone . . . I got to spend last night with William "the Refregeator" Perry. They brought a special couch up to the third base dugout for his frigness to hold court over the game, and for a few magical innings, I got to do my stuff spitting distance from the man. Not only that, but during one of our promotions, the fridge hefted his enormous bulk out of the couch to actually PERFROM THE SUPERBOWL SHUFFLE! Singing, "dancing", the works! The cherry on the top of this magical ice cream? He blew the lines!
The Saint's dropped the fourth game of the series, but who cares? The fridge didn't. I got his autograph on a baseball. He politely refused my offer to give him a signature. He had about three or four gigantic beers during the four innings he was up on the dugout. When he smiled, I could see past his missing teeth and into . . . eternity. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the new odd couple: Cody and the Fridge:
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