Japanse New-Girl Monkey Network
Take Me Out to the Crowd
Last night, in belated celebration of Jennifer's and Kevin's birthdays, I met up with a bunch of folks down in Seattle (again) for a Mariner's game at [Sponsoring Corporation] Field. It's the first game I've been to at the new field since they blew up the Kingdome. It's nice, but you definitely feel the heavy hand of advertising there. Didn't really get in the way of enjoying the game.
The game itself was M's v. the Detroit Tigers. A bit slow to begin with, and certainly not slated to be anything intense, but there were a few good plays and after all, it was a baseball game. Jeni was there, too, and is a huge baseball fan, and her family was even something like Dodger Family of the Year or something, so she made sure all our baseball-watching needs were provided for.
Dinner: Garlic fries and a 7-UP, sunflower seeds and peanuts (both in their shells and salted, of course), half a Red Vine, a cup of coffee. Followed by Big League Chewing gum for dessert. Wow, did that bring a wave of nostalgia, memories of watching my parents' softball games in the evenings when I was younger. The way you grab a big wad of gum out of the packet, bigger than could possibly actually fit in your mouth, the way it starts out all soft and gelatinous and sugary, then gets harder as you chew, until it's a flavorless cud-like hard lump, the perfect bubble-gum pink color of it. The smell. Baseball... that weird uniquely American phenomenon, its crazy rituals. I'm a great believer in redirected violence-- that if only we turned more to competitive sports we wouldn't need war. I could be wrong-- maybe competition just feeds aggression-- but wouldn't it be cool if we could resolve conflicts with a basketball game instead of blowing each other up?
I think that had to be the randomest line of thought I've ever put to paper. Bah.
I miss Mr Wiggins. I had a great time at the game, but I kept wishing he was there with me, whinging about stupid Americans and our crazy traditions, wishing I could futilely attempt to explain that, no, baseball is really cool, because there's the seventh inning stretch when you sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" and when you go along with all the goofy behaviors it's really quite fun, so go ahead and do the wave with everyone else; explaining the intricacies of the game...
{ link me }