Over the Memorial Day weekend (Yeesh! It is already June!), Amanda and I partook in an American summer tradition by going to a Cleveland Indians baseball game at Jaco...err....I mean Progressive Field!
It was fun! My first ever major league sporting event and the Indians broke a seven game losing streak! Of course, then they slipped into another losing streak, but they won yesterday! Against the same team they beat at this very first of my major league ballgames*.
We had horrible seats. Section 514, Row K, Seat 18. After the gates opened, we fumbled around the ground floor trying to find the section. All the other people (i.e. real fans) knew where they were going and my hope was to find some other poor saps stuck at the roof of the world. We did reach the stairs to our section and after about three flights I noticed another sign for Section 514 and I said to Amanda, "Keep going up."
Hey, but that is part of the fun! We paid 16 dollars combined for those seats! And, let me tell you, we certainly knew that the white ants were our guys and the blue ants, the other team.
Oh, the sights and sounds! The children's choir signing the National Anthem and the heckling! The announced listed off the Indians starting roster and finished by saying "And they are managed by Eric Wedge." Then someone behind me (Yes there were people even higher than us. It is all relative) screams out, "No! They are mismanaged by Eric Wedge!"
Genius! I don't even know why they hate this Eric Wedge guy, but that is right up there with the heckle I heard at a minor league hockey game in Syracuse, NY.
"Get off your knees, ref! You are blowing the game!"
Amazing!
I hope to go to some more games this summer and into the future. I might not like sports very much, but I sure do like the home team. I still use this tired gag whenever conversation lulls, which is something along the lines of, "Well, how about that local sports team?" My college roommate and I had this mini vaudeville bit around the line:
OK, well, by vaudeville, I mean nerdy, and by bit, I mean the reason we had no friends!
But now the bit has it's own new cadence, because there is a real local sports team!
So, more games for sure. If we can afford them. I remember reading about how expensive it is to go to a ball game, but it is different actually feeling it in the flesh and pocket book. At 6.25 a beer, I expected to watch a couple of movie previews on the world's largest baseball scoreboard or hear that my connecting flight to Atlanta was canceled.
The prices put a whole new spin on "Take Me Out To The Ball Game!"
But, again, it was fun. There was an energy to the event. The game was sold out and knowing that about 39,999 other people share a common interest with you always takes the sting out of any bullshit life deals you. So, while we still have to deal with George W. Bush, we beat the team he used to (partially) own! WOO HOO! Makes up for the erosion of civil liberties, delay of global warming response, and water boarding with the crack of Ben Francisco's bat and the leather plunk of Grady Sizemore's glove!
Peace!
*I must have gone to umpteen baseball games in Puerto Rico watching the teams of the Professional Baseball League of Puerto Rico. These had their own fun, but were far beyond major league, even though you could see some stars play there during the off season.
I hope to go to some more games this summer and into the future. I might not like sports very much, but I sure do like the home team. I still use this tired gag whenever conversation lulls, which is something along the lines of, "Well, how about that local sports team?" My college roommate and I had this mini vaudeville bit around the line:
"Hey, how about that local sports team?"
"Oh, they need to fire the manager."
"And build a new stadium."
"Hi-yo!"
"Oh, they need to fire the manager."
"And build a new stadium."
"Hi-yo!"
OK, well, by vaudeville, I mean nerdy, and by bit, I mean the reason we had no friends!
But now the bit has it's own new cadence, because there is a real local sports team!
So, more games for sure. If we can afford them. I remember reading about how expensive it is to go to a ball game, but it is different actually feeling it in the flesh and pocket book. At 6.25 a beer, I expected to watch a couple of movie previews on the world's largest baseball scoreboard or hear that my connecting flight to Atlanta was canceled.
The prices put a whole new spin on "Take Me Out To The Ball Game!"
Take me out to the ball game!
Take me out to the crowd!
Pawn off your class ring and golden latch
Don't you worry if you get your investment back!
Because it is...
Root, root, foot for the pawn shops!
If they close down it's a shame
Because it is...
ONE!
TWO!
Three mortgages on your house
To go to the old ball game!
Take me out to the crowd!
Pawn off your class ring and golden latch
Don't you worry if you get your investment back!
Because it is...
Root, root, foot for the pawn shops!
If they close down it's a shame
Because it is...
ONE!
TWO!
Three mortgages on your house
To go to the old ball game!
But, again, it was fun. There was an energy to the event. The game was sold out and knowing that about 39,999 other people share a common interest with you always takes the sting out of any bullshit life deals you. So, while we still have to deal with George W. Bush, we beat the team he used to (partially) own! WOO HOO! Makes up for the erosion of civil liberties, delay of global warming response, and water boarding with the crack of Ben Francisco's bat and the leather plunk of Grady Sizemore's glove!
Peace!
*I must have gone to umpteen baseball games in Puerto Rico watching the teams of the Professional Baseball League of Puerto Rico. These had their own fun, but were far beyond major league, even though you could see some stars play there during the off season.
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