7/11/2013
Even though the Weather
Channel had predicted a 90% chance of thunderstorms that night, by the evening
there wasn’t a sign of rain – very lucky for us since the boys and Kathleen
hadn’t been able to stop talking for weeks about the baseball game we were
going to. (I kind of pumped it up at home as the highlight of the trip, along
with the horses, which I’ll get to later.)
As our loyal reader knows,
Laura and I are not sports people (I’ve been to one professional baseball game
in my life and it was under duress), but the kids were pumped and certainly a
trip around America requires a foray into America’s pastime.
I bought the tickets
online – the cheapest possible of course ($9), but I still got complaints from
the banker, i.e. my wife. I even sprang for the parking pass, which was $10. [Good grief, one shouldn’t have to PAY to see people
throw balls at each other!!! And the parking, oh the parking. It was actually not worth it.] This
turned out to be a good idea, since all we had to do was drive to the
appropriate lot, hand the guy our pass (the stadium mailed everything to us in
advance) and Bob’s your uncle, without having to deal with parking lot shysters
who love sporting event confusion.
We got to the stadium just
as the game was beginning. Laura complained about our nosebleed seats. [What are those tiny little dots on the field???] I
offered to share an economics lesson on the correlation between the price of
tickets and the quality thereof, but she politely declined. Veronica didn’t
mind the view, though.
The boys sat on each side
of me, while Kathleen sat on my lap. They were more interested in what I had to
say than others in our party. They all listened attentively as I explained all
the little basebally details, like some big all-American sports dude. How long
before they learn the truth about me?
I had promised the kids stadium hotdogs, even though such a thing exasperated my cheapskate gene, but every once and awhile you have to “be a dad” as Laura tells me. Laura insisted on getting the hotdogs, so I could “do manly bonding” with the boys (and Kathleen and Veronica too), but I think she just didn’t want me to see how much they’d cost. Laura came back a few minutes later with 3 hotdogs and a basket of fries. When she put the fries down on Daniel’s chair, he stood up. He was trying to be helpful, but these are those flippy stadium seats, so you know what happens when you stand up. Fries everywhere. Laura suddenly got into the spirit of the game by using some great baseball player language. She angrily scooped up the fries and threw them away, flames shooting out of her ears, and looking for someone to kill. While her back was turned towards the trash can, Philip and Kathleen both immediately dropped their hotdogs. I quickly snatched them up, handed them back to the kids, and didn’t say a word. Gross? Maybe. But I didn’t want to die. [Well, if you’ve just spent $25 on a very small meal for three children, and your child wastes $6 in a mere blink of an eye, you are going scream a long string of very unrepeatable words. AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!]
Dirty hotdogs were
consumed and the game marched on. All in all it was a really relaxing
experience. I never really noticed before, but baseball can be kind of
hypnotically repetitive, like watching waves splash against rocks. I think
that’s kind of the point, as opposed to some other sports that are all about adrenaline.
Sure, there were a few exciting moments, but for the most part that calmness of
it all was the appeal. [And it helps greatly when
you can’t see anything.]
After every inning there
was some sort of hometown ritual, which in a strange way really does bring the
crowd together through some sort of comfortable tradition. The kids did their
best to join in by copying the old pros. It reminded me a little bit of them
trying to follow along with rituals in church. I suppose in a little way it’s
not that different.
Remember that 90% chance
of a thunderstorm? Well, it finally came during the 7th inning and certainly
made up for lost time. The rain exploded out of nowhere, and suddenly the
crowds were drenched. Well, everyone in the rows ahead of us. We were safely
positioned right at the edge of a hanging canopy. The people sitting right in
front of us were soaked, but we were completely dry. Despite the rain, the game
went on. Many of the people in the closer seats ran hysterically up the
bleachers to get out of the rain by sitting behind us. Who got the cheap
tickets now?
The storm passed as
quickly as it came, so after the game the six of us walked back to the car,
happy and dry and feeling like a family.
Oh, and the Orioles won,
by the way.
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