Play ball!
As you might imagine, things are a bit rough for me. Yesterday I felt like I was falling apart at the seams and the only thing really holding me together was shock. Not such a fun way to live, says I.
Just after 3pm, my newish and awesome friend from the Dub, Brandi, sends me an IM asking if I want to go to the Giants' game...in 4 hours. Well, gee, I guess so. I was stoked! She'd been given free Club Level tickets. Lovely seats.
I'd only ever been to one ballgame before that. It was through the D.A.R.E. program and we saw the Giants at Candlestick park when I was nine. This was before my parents got divorced. The Giants are My Team® (live here) as are the Cardinals (born there.) My new native american name is "Grins like idiot." I felt like a poor kid getting spoiled. Again. It would probably surprise most people to find out just how often I feel like that. Hell, every (mexican) coke I drink is still a treat to me!
So we met up and she decides to drive to the game because she'd been given free parking passes too. We park, think about snagging a beer from one of the tailgate parties and head into the game. Before we find our seats she walks me over to the big glass wall to see the field. The game is suddenly far more real to me. Then, she insists that we have a ballpark hot dog with everything on it and a beer and she buys me crackerjacks when I comment how cute it is that they sell them.
We gorge ourselves on the Hebrew Nationals and settle to watch the game. 0-0. 0-0. 0-0. Nobody scored (until after we left) but I didn't care. Grins-like-idiot was pleased as punch at the sound of the crowd. The ballpark, just so you know, smells like griddle-cakes and meat.
She said we had to take a walk around the park, so we did. We noted that the behavior of the people in the lower section was considerably less desirable: "Hey baby...yeah you...you fiiine...nice ass...what? I'm too drunk?" We wondered if 3 stumbly men would ever wear their bright orange bucket hats outside of the ballpark. We went down the coke slide, because I will never ever be too old for that shit. Next time, I'm bringing a piece of waxed paper. We wondered what an Irish Coffee - "Buena Vista Style" is. We got Bud in souvenir cups. She constantly turned to me and laughed at my permagrin.
We got back to our seats and it was freezing, so we left at the top of the 9th. I'm not entirely sure what superstition dictates about this, but the Giants scored after we left.
I had an amazing time. I will never throw away my souvenir cup. Massive thanks to Brandi!
Just after 3pm, my newish and awesome friend from the Dub, Brandi, sends me an IM asking if I want to go to the Giants' game...in 4 hours. Well, gee, I guess so. I was stoked! She'd been given free Club Level tickets. Lovely seats.
I'd only ever been to one ballgame before that. It was through the D.A.R.E. program and we saw the Giants at Candlestick park when I was nine. This was before my parents got divorced. The Giants are My Team® (live here) as are the Cardinals (born there.) My new native american name is "Grins like idiot." I felt like a poor kid getting spoiled. Again. It would probably surprise most people to find out just how often I feel like that. Hell, every (mexican) coke I drink is still a treat to me!
So we met up and she decides to drive to the game because she'd been given free parking passes too. We park, think about snagging a beer from one of the tailgate parties and head into the game. Before we find our seats she walks me over to the big glass wall to see the field. The game is suddenly far more real to me. Then, she insists that we have a ballpark hot dog with everything on it and a beer and she buys me crackerjacks when I comment how cute it is that they sell them.
We gorge ourselves on the Hebrew Nationals and settle to watch the game. 0-0. 0-0. 0-0. Nobody scored (until after we left) but I didn't care. Grins-like-idiot was pleased as punch at the sound of the crowd. The ballpark, just so you know, smells like griddle-cakes and meat.
She said we had to take a walk around the park, so we did. We noted that the behavior of the people in the lower section was considerably less desirable: "Hey baby...yeah you...you fiiine...nice ass...what? I'm too drunk?" We wondered if 3 stumbly men would ever wear their bright orange bucket hats outside of the ballpark. We went down the coke slide, because I will never ever be too old for that shit. Next time, I'm bringing a piece of waxed paper. We wondered what an Irish Coffee - "Buena Vista Style" is. We got Bud in souvenir cups. She constantly turned to me and laughed at my permagrin.
We got back to our seats and it was freezing, so we left at the top of the 9th. I'm not entirely sure what superstition dictates about this, but the Giants scored after we left.
I had an amazing time. I will never throw away my souvenir cup. Massive thanks to Brandi!