It's The New Coo Review, Coming Right At You!

So, Guggenheim Baseball Management pulled off the greatest coup (Pun not intended, but I'll take it.) in the history of professional sports and brought back the Cool-A-Coo ice cream sandwich last night. The heavens opened. Everything seemed bright again. Even the Dodgers' lack of offense seemed less frustrating.

Nope, I'm kidding. That part still sucked.

They did make a big deal over the return, though. Eric Smith read a welcome back message over the PA, then DodgerVision cut to Tommy and Ron Cey chowing on a couple of Cool-A-Coos. I missed this part, because I was in the middle of my search for one. Vin Scully Is My Homeboy has some pics.

It wasn't exactly an epic quest, but I did have to do some legwork to attain my ice-creamy goodness. I was sitting on the Top Deck, and, at first glance, it appeared that the concession stands up there weren't carrying the Cool-A-Coo. (At least, according to the menu boards.) So, I popped down the eleventy or so stairs to the Reserve.

Not wanting to miss too much of the offensive onslaught on the field, I hopped in the first line I came across. This stand's menu board did list the Cool-A-Coo...at a whopping $5.75. Yee-ikes. Unfortunately, I picked the one line that Guggenheim hasn't managed to improve the serving time of, so I was camped out for a while. I got to see Beckett's epic groundout single on the TV, and joke about it with some fellow fans. ("He's, uh, not used to hitting!") After about 15 minutes in line, I had my Cool-A-Coo in hand and headed back to my seat.

So, how does it taste? Pretty darn good! I can't say for sure if it's at all like the original, since my last one was consumed probably 20 years ago. It definitely felt familiar, though. I hope you like cinnamon, because there is a TON in the cookies. Also, grab some napkins, because the chocolate coating melts faster than our hopes for the postseason.

One more thing: Look at the word just above Cool-A-Coo. Yep. As one of our Twitter followers put it, "Nothing sold in Dodger Stadium should say 'GIANT' on it." Huge faux pas. Even outside of that context, the sandwich itself isn't big enough to merit using the word. (Not that the Cool-A-Coo is tiny, or anything, despite how my freakishly large hands make it appear.)

To recap:

• PROS: Taste, Nostalgia
  
• CONS: Filthy five-letter word, Price (Seriously, drop it to $4 and you'll sell TONS.)

Photo: SoSG Nomo