CLEVELAND _ Just another typical Opening Day in Cleveland.
Temperatures in the 40s.
A threat of snow.
High hopes for playoff baseball in October.
And protestors trading barbs with fans of Chief Wahoo.
Friday was the controversial team mascot's final Opening Day appearance on a Tribe uniform.
The team and Major League Baseball agreed in January to retire the mascot from the field of play by the start of the 2019 season.
It is hard to spot the caricature inside of the ballpark, a Block C now takes center stage along with the script Indians.
There was still plenty of the grinning team mascot to be found on everything from hats, to shirts to jackets on fans filing their way inside.
The mascot dates back to the 1940s when former Indians owner Bill Veeck turned to an artist by the name of Walter Goldbach of Medina to come up with a primary logo for the club's patches. Goldbach died in December.
Some fans went out of their way to show off their Chief Wahoo to protestors gathered at two entrances to the ballpark.
A small number even waved a middle finger or two to catch the attention of the protestors that collectively numbered about 50.
Jon Brittain caught the attention and ire of the protestors as he motored by on his wheelchair wearing a tall traditional Native American headdress.
The Lakewood resident said he's been wearing headdresses to games since the 2007 season.
He said fans are supportive of his team spirit and often stop him and ask to take a selfie.
At a typical game, he will pose 20 or more times and at one game some 40 people wanted a snapshot.
Brittain said he's only been confronted once by another fan offended by his headdress _ this is third one he has owned _ but he dismissed that as one of "those Cubs fans."
Carrying a "We are Not Honored" sign, Robert Roche, a member of the Apache nation living in Parma, said it is sad that he once again has to gather outside a Cleveland stadium as he had to do since 1971.
Roche said the ballclub has no intention of banishing Chief Wahoo as he will likely continue to appear on merchandise long after he disappears from the players' uniforms.
And the team will continue to call itself the Indians.
'"This is the city of racism," he said. "We are not mascots. We are humans. They continue to dehumanize us."
Walking not far away was a counter protestor.
Angelo DiSiena, of Cleveland, didn't have a ticket for the game.
He made his way to the ballpark to show his support for Chief Wahoo.
He carried a large tapestry of the chief he purchased in Mexico a few years ago.
"I don't see why they would want to get rid of him," DiSiena said. "It's not that insensitive. Everyone I see is wearing him."
Joseph Patrick Meissner has a long history of fighting over the mascot.
As an attorney he was part of a bitter protracted legal battle in the 1970s to force the team to get rid of the mascot and team name and compensate Native Americans for money made from related merchandise.
Meissner, who carried a "People are not Mascots" sign, estimates that the team owes the tribal nations somewhere in the neighborhood of $9 billion.
"And that might be conservative," he said.
For some fans, Chief Wahoo is not a political thing but more of a personal thing.
Matt Coleman started his Opening Day at a cemetery in Tiffin with his wife and kids.
They gathered to honor his dad Leroy, a longtime season ticket holder in Section 182 and Tribe fan, who died in December.
Matt said he wore his dad's Indians Santa hat that has a Chief Wahoo in the front to honor his father and his love of the Tribe.
"We stopped by his grave and let some balloons go," he said. "His seats are better than mine this Opening Day."
