A Day at the Ballpark
I went to the Texas Rangers, Los Angeles Angels baseball game yesterday. It was the first weekday day game I’d ever been to, I was with two of my best friends, and it was everything I wished and hoped for.
I got to see a grand slam (the Angels).
Two home runs (Rangers- that came way too late in the game, still, there was fireworks, even in the middle of the day).
I got to see Sammy Sosa and Mark Teixeira do absolutely earn loads of money for very little effort.
I got to see the giant tarps dragged across the infield cause of a short rain storm.
I had several $6 beers and hotdogs.
The three of us friends debated the merits of the clock spotting method (I’m not sure what that’s really called, but an example would be, “Boogie at 10:00!”). “What if you’re facing the person, and you say, ‘crazy looking person 6:00.’ Do you mean your six, and the other person’s twelve? Or vice versa?” “I think you always say your own clock, unless you specifically say, ‘your six’.” This debate came to a head when we started talking about the Knights of the Round Table. How hard would it be to tell directional time to a group of people who were sitting in a circle to begin with?
I got a little upset with my friend who was text messaging through the seventh inning stretch (well, really it was off and on from about the bottom of the fifth through the seventh inning stretch. “I hope they show you on the big screen!” I said. “You sound like my mom.” Was their retort).
And finally we got to see one grown man grope another grown man. Man A was trying to get back to his seat (carrying food). He scooted by man B who was sitting on the end of the row. As man A was passing man B, man B decided to place his hand on Man A’s torso, I guess to help keep him stabilized? Man A and Man B did not know each other. Man A also had shingle mouth… there was something crazy odd looking growing out of the side of his mouth. If I were Man B, I wouldn’t have touched Man A with a ten-foot pole. Still I guess all’s fair in love and sports watching.
By the end of the day, we were all pretty tired (it was sort of hot and humid yesterday, though I can’t imagine what it’d be like watching a game in 90+ degree weather), so tired that the word “poop” became the funniest word in the world.