Ah, The Bachelorette always on the cusp of love, always on the cusp of heartbreak, always slow walking and looking thoughtful. Ali reminds us that this is all really hard. All this jet-setting, all this whining, dining, site-seeing, hair flipping, giggling, indoctrinating, dotted with making out with mostly attractive men (Kirk, sorry, but you are walking fungus) and at what cost? Merely a few roses, a few man tears, having to spend time with Chris Harrison and pop a handful of Valtrex at the end of each day. Is it really so hard, Ali? Should I remind you it is the six-month anniversary of the Haitian earthquake and you are but a blonde tater tot getting whisked around the world on ABC's dime hoping to maybe score a Trista and actually find love and babies and shit (no, really, from the babies -- look into it). My point, Ali, is simple: Shut up. Jesus. Off to Tampa! Wait: Tampa? You have to go to TAMPA? Never mind. Your life SUCKS.
Roberto is back in his hometown of Tampa, Florida sitting on the steps of his alma mater the University of Tampa waiting for his gringa. By the way, high school seniors and people inspired by that Rodney Dangerfield movie where he goes back to school, University of Tampa has a freaking awesome main building, so suck it University of Phoenix. Roberto is a wise man and has realized that on Ali's visit to his hometown he has to fall back on the one thing that really separates him from the man masses: Professional Baseball. Girls are silly like that. So Roberto brings Ali to his college ballpark, presents her with a jersey with his number on it (he's number 19!) and then disappears to the locker room so he can show up on the field in his full baseball jersey. Ali just about spread eagles on the ground at the sight of her man in uniform. Well she would have if this wasn't 8 p.m. on a Disney-owned television station. Instead she just straddles him on the pitcher's mound. In the confessional, Ali tells us that there is nothing sexier than a man in a baseball uniform. Um, yeah, we know. What are we, dead inside?
Ali and Roberto pitch, catch, chase balls, he goes to second, and third, and about twenty other things that are double entendres for the dirty minded. Ali spends a lot of time leaping into Roberto's manly arms and wrapping her legs around his torso, which is clearly not standard operating procedure for baseball and would probably be cheating if this were MLB rules. Yes, Roberto, even in the minor leagues. Also, it makes it hard to run the bases. "Hard" was the double entendre there in case you were wondering. After they collapse from all the major league flirting, Roberto presents Ali with his rookie card. She about dies from glee and then Roberto's goes to second on the pitcher's mound. But things get sewious when Ali admits to being nervous to meet his entire extended family this evening. Roberto admits he would be nervous, too, which probably isn't the right thing to say to soothe anyone's nerves. He explains that his parents are the stereotypical military Latino family with a kind but slightly overbearing father and passive mother who cooks a lot of things in lard and uses too many paper towels. Roberto will probably spend the entire evening trying to prove her lily white worth to his father and being snappish to his mother but also hugging her a lot. Should be fun. Like Leave it Beaver with more arroz con pollo.