10 / 27 / 10 - Andrew, Dante, Harrison, Jean-Paul, Remy, Ritter, Walter, Xen
It's the first game of the World Series, and AT&T Ballpark has been buzzing with energy for HOURS now as fans from all over have gathered at the World Series, from die hard baseball fans to those whose teams have made it to the end of the season. The ballpark is almost literally humming with suppressed energy at a fever pitch, anticipation high about 30 minutes before the first pitch is ready to be thrown. This group arrived early, the better to enjoy the pre-game with, and has moved (mostly) to the seats along the first base line. Somehow, a small section of tickets has been acquired, positioned to accomodate the group of 8 Titan men in two rows of 4 seats, one in front of the other. Xen is decked in his Cubs gear, consequences be damned, jersey with 'BRANDT' scrolled across the top of a large '77', his Cubs cap firmly on his head. He's obviously on his way back from a food and beer run, for he has 'dogs and beer aplenty as he steps to the row of seats. "Got beer for whoever's empty, and a few 'dogs too!" And he begins distributing before dropping down in his seat with one of each for himself.
Andrew has no particular gear, but he's not immune to the atmosphere, and he's grinning pretty widely. He takes a beer first, working on that before he gets to the hotdog he also accepts. "Good seats," he comments, mostly in Xen's direction, but widely enough aimed that it someone else is responsible they could take credit.
Remy has claimed one of the seats along the pack row for himself, and his own clothing choices pay allegiance to some roadhouse no-one outside the Bayou has heard of, rather than supporting a particular team. "Beer me up, homme," he requests, plastic cup angled Xen-wards as he sits up out of a comfortable lean with a hat shading his eyes.
Walter is in the rear row of the titan men, but holds up his hand at the mention of dogs, already having a bag of peanuts, apparently using the occasion as an excuse to eat horribly. He, for his part, is dressed about like he always is, jeans and a T-shirt, this one baring the Flash logo on the center of the chest. He seems somewhat excited for the game, though, a glove in his lap in case of snatchable foul balls.
Only halfway through his first beer, Jean-Paul has no need of refills, thanks. He babysips. "They are pretty good," he admits with grudging admiration. He leans forward, caught in the air of anticipation. He wears, you know, clothes. They are not particularly baseball-y.
Take me out to the ballllgame... Although just sporting the cap bearing the signature 'A' of a team that was eliminated from the playoffs earlier, Dante has the appearance of one who is still alright with the resulting match up. There is something to say for watching games where there is no personal stake in the outcome and that something is not expressed in the form of screaming from a slowly turning red face. Dante's beer isn't in need of replacement just yet but a hand does come up to Xen's offer, "Dog over here."
'Consequences be damned' is apparently a popular sentiment among the Titan employees: Harrison is also sporting foreign colors today with a Yankees t-shirt and ballcap that both look well-loved enough to possibly be as old as he is. "Yup," he says back to Xen, because obviously he is already through his first beer. Because he's Harrison. He reaches in Xen's direction for one.
"I'm good, but thanks," Iago calls to Xen, tipping his still mostly full beer at the other man as he returns from a food and booze run. Like so many others, he's wearing some gear that supports a team that is not actually in this game with his bright Red baseball cap, but he's limited the show of support for his non-participating team to that. Otherwise, he's wearing an orange button down shirt that's probably a little too fancy, really, for a ballgame, but at least he's not wearing a tie, right? That's casual.
"Parks are like movie theatres. Make most o' their bread on the concessions," says Remy, resuming his contented sprawl in the sunlight as soon as his beer is replenished.
"Doesn't taste the same unless it's ridiculously overpriced," Andrew comments to Remy. He takes a bite of hotdog with great relish to illustrate.
The group is a little island of OTHER TEAMS, apparently, because Gabriel is certainly sporting Washington Nationals gear, he is just either away on his own food run, or has gone a little quiet to watch the teams continue to warm up. He passes out the requested foodstuffs. "Yeah, you just have to know how to dig for the right tickets," he says to Andrew, then grins to Remy, "Nowhere else do you pay a ten spot for a plastic bottle of beer, or six for a 'dog. But man, does this bring back memories. Been going to ballgames for a long time now."
Harrison glances over at Remy, who is likely nearby given the general sense of friendship -- maybe they are next to each other? -- and then makes a big show of looking around them. "You putting on a lesson for someone, LeBeau?"
Remy will sit with Harrison! He smirks at the look around, and says "Just statin' the obvious, Brady," in a tone of lazy lack of offense. With a vague lift of his beer cup in a toast that's even more vague, Remy tips a nod and then sets down to the serious business of taking a drink.
Walter returns Remy's salute with his dog before chowing down. "Went once with grandpa. On one of those days where they give out stuff for the first hundred or something kids through the gate. It was kinda fun," he muses to nobody in particular, glancing about at the group, then out to the diamond. His own cup is filled with soda. Perhaps he's the designated driver?
"They still do that, sometimes, those giveaways...just to get people in the door, really. It's all promotions and getting ticket sales, just another way to do it. But, some people collect that stuff. Sometimes it's even nice stuff," Iago says before taking a drink of his beer.
Andrew pulls an exaggerated face that nonetheless seems to have something more behind it. "If we're going to start telling 'and then I went to the game with my dad' stories, I'm pouring this over the head of the next person who tries it." He lifts his beer to demonstrate.
Jean-Paul drinks his beer, leaning forward. "People collect anything," he says, mild, with the barest flicker of a glance marking Andrew's demonstration, then ignored.
"Alcohol abuse," Remy chides, but with a hint of an understanding nod to take the edge off his smirk. (Or possibly he just doesn't want to wear beer.)
"Still do it pretty regular, if you look at the schedule," Harrison notes. He arches an eyebrow at Andrew, but says nothing.
Dante takes a bite of his newly aquired hot dog, chewing slowly. Expensive hot dog is tasty, but still expensive. To Andrew's threat he glances over, checking to see his potential range, "That's a waste of a perfectly good beer."
"That'd be a party foul, Andrew," Iago replies, mildly amused.
"Mostly it's a bunch of cheap crap," responds Xen, taking a bite of his own hot dog, chasing it with a drink of beer from his plastic bottle. He eyes Andrew for a second before settling a little more in his seat with another drink of his beer. "Don't worry, Swifte. Just drink your beer instead of wasting it."
Walter cowers a bit at Andrew's threat, a slight hunch of his shoulders, mildly apologetic. "I think it was a kid-sized bat," he says after swallowing the last of that particular dog. "Was a while ago." He goes quiet then.
"If you insist." Andrew knocks back the last of his beer, which is admittedly about a quarter of it. "What I don't understand are bobbleheads. Who looked at a doll and was like 'That's not creepy enough, lets make its grin bobble at you'?"
"That's not creepy," says Remy, with a more measured sip of his beer after he's held the cup up to the light and amused himself by trying to peer through it. "That's just kitch. Y'want creepy, check out some o' the better tourist crap voodoo shops down home."
"There's a /better/ sort?" says Jean-Paul, dubious.
"I would assume the difference would be on where the items being sold in the store are being made." Dante muses, "Actually made there versus outsourced to another country and just shipped there for later selling."
"Also how much theatre the owners put into it," says Remy, with a tip of a hand. "I mean, s'all a con in the end, but if y'havin' fun doin' it..."
"And hey, if it sells," Walter points out, sprawling a bit. "You have a particular item in mind, or are we best off not knowing?"
"Ah, paying for the experience instead of the mass production." Dante gives a nod in acknowledgement to the other point, "Good one."
Harrison sips his beer and looks generally skeptical at the idea of a 'better sort' of tourist crap.
"Better for the people selling it, I assume," says Xen. He nods to Remy and takes another bite of his hot dog.
"'Zackly," says Remy, before peering over at Xen and wondering "Y'got any more o' them dogs, or am I gonna have to be the next one doin' a snack run?"
"Someone'll come round eventually," Harrison figures, though he does glance around to see if there's a trusty hot dog seller anywhere nearby.
"Hey, I only have two hands. And there was more beer than 'dogs, so--" Xen nods in Harrison's direction, then looking around. "There's bound to be a vendor along--" He thumbs further back up the row. "Making his way to use right now." Sure enough, the call of 'HOT DOGS!!' can be heard, getting closer.
Walter turns around, waving the vendor down for Remy
Remy engages in the sort of negotiations appropriate to obtaining a hot dog. Money is passed along, and he holds out his hands with a grin, encouraging a throw.
Harrison passes along money as well, but he'll let Remy be the one to play catch with the vendor. YOUNG PEOPLE.
Remy is just able to catch without aggravating his arthritic shoulder or something, obvs.
Dante plays along with the money pass along, "It's kind of similar to what some cities do with historical tours. During the daytime for about ten a person you get to walk around with a tour guide telling you stories about the city." He cracks a slight smile, "And for those not all that interested, you slap an extra ten bucks to the fee, hold the tour at night, pick out the more interesting stories, get a slightly more dramatic tour guide, and call it a ghost tour."
Walter chuckles lightly at Dante's comment. "You know, now I have the urge to go on both a normal tour and a ghost tour just to see if there's overlap."
Dante grins, "If you're ever in Charleston. Do it."
"Ghost tour?" Xen makes a face, "Is it the utter kind of ridiculousness that these Ghost hunter shows are about? They walk you into an old house, cry out for ghosts to make noises and then be all impressed at the noises of the house settling?"
Remy is satisfied with the addition of hot dog to beer. (We can probably assume that Remy and the vendor can cooperate enough that he doesn't end up with the hot dog -in- the beer.) Both are consumed, slow and lazy, as he settles in to watch the interactions of his teammates as much as the players on the field. At least until the game gets properly under way, that is.
"I did the Seattle one once," Andrew offers. "They tell about all the ghosts people have supposed to have seen before, and their sordid lives. It can be a pretty good time."
"Never been on one, myself," Walter shares, giving a heavy shrug, but smiles. "Wonder if there's one in San Fran."
"Yeah, usually it involves tales of horrible things that have happened and people still haunting the spots," Iago says, nodding at Xen. "A little like Ghost Hunters. Less fancy equipment, more imagination."
"It's pure entertainment," Dante agrees, smiling, "Think of a ghost tour as the equivalent of the E True Hollywood Story for older cities."
"Somewhere between dragons and alternate realities, a house that makes noises--." Jean-Paul tips his hand, sips his beer, and leans back. His gaze remains intent on the field. ARE WE THERE YET? "Doesn't really rate."
Suddenly, there is some cheering from a small section of crowd behind the Titans group as a few more of the Rangers take the field to continue their warm ups. Loud cries of "GO RANGERS!!" spring forth from two or three loudmouths before a fourth chimes in with a blatant, "YANKEES SUCK! GO HOME, LOSER!"
"Every major city has one--" Andrew cuts off, to snort at the noise, but grin nonetheless. He's nearly done with his beer, but he stays put for the moment, just listening and watching.
Harrison is no stranger to sports heckling. He barely has to look back over his shoulder to toss off a quick "Shove it up your ass!" to the offending party.
"But they're /spooky/ noises," Walter says with a chuckle, grinning warmly as his attention is drawn to the field at the activity. "Just warmups still?" he asks, glancing towards his watch with more curiousity than urgency.
No Yankees fan is going to be a stranger to sports heckling. Iago merely snorts in amusement at the loudmouths behind them and Harrison's eloquent rebuttal and drinks more of his beer.
Xen can't help but look back over his shoulder at the loudmouths a few good rows behind them, smirking and shaking his head. He glances over at Walter, and then to the clock, "Almost time, really." He points back behind home plate where the media is getting ready along the backstop behind home plate.
"Even if you don't go for the whole ghost aspect, it's a nice fastforward if you want to get to the meat of what they put in the historical brochures. Just ignore the parts that happen after the subjects die." Dante glances behind him to the shout, cracking a smile to Harrison's response before turning back to look to the field.
Walter gives a nod to Dante, his attention firmly out on the field now as things start to pick up.
Before long, the show behind the home plate becomes center stage for the stadium as the voices and announcers are broadcast through the park. The roar of the crowd lowers itself a little what the announcements, though it choruses some booing at the Rangers as their lineup is announced (except for the guys behind the Titan crowd trying to cheer their team). But the real swell of noise comes as the Giants lineup is announced, people coming to their feet and cheering wildly as the announcers work their way through the players' names.
Iago claps and hollers with most of the rest of the crowd as the Giants appear on the field. Hey, they aren't his team, but at least they beat those damn Phillies.
Oddly enough, despite the Giants beating the team for which his cap represents, Dante may be clapping a tad bit more for the home team.
As the Giants are announced, Xen puts fingers to lips and whistles for the home team, despite the Cubs gear. It seems that he, too, has no love for the Rangers in this Series. Finally, all of the pre-game excitement and opening festivities come to a close, ending with the national anthem. And once that's done, the Giants take the field to start off the first game of the Series, and the pilot settles in to watch, chat, heckle, and hopefully cheer more than a little for the home team. PLAY BALL!
Sports.