That’s what we were thinking when we read this story in the profile of Cleveland Indians’ president Paul Dolan in last Sunday’s Plain Dealer:
"Paul Dolan and Mark Mansour, a Beachwood investment banker and Dolan’s friend since high school, bike together when time allows. They once made the 26-mile trek from Dolan’s sprawling home near Chagrin Falls to Jacobs Field under overcast skies that quickly let loose.
"By Shaker Heights, they were pedaling in a deluge. By Cleveland, they were hydroplaning down Chester Avenue. By Jacobs Field, they were drowned rats stopped at the security gate.
" ‘ Where do you think you’re going?’ the guard said. So the team president had to bare his I.D.
"As they entered the locker room to shower and change, they ran into Indians relief pitcher Bob Wickman, who asked what the heck happened to them. When Paul explained how far they rode in a downpour, the former Tribe closer called them stupid and walked away shaking his head."
Wickman may not get it, but we sure do: Paul Dolan, like us, loves to ride his bike.