I just got back from the ball park. The home team won. That made me feel much better for the four boys we dragged out with us. It's not as if they wouldn't want to go - getting to see a professional baseball game is still a pretty cool ticket around our house - but it's always just a little less fun when our team loses.
I have the same visceral satisfaction to baseball that I have for Disneyland. When I go to Disneyland, there is a moment as I pass through the gates, and head up under the train station and look out on Main Street - with Tomorrow and Adventure on either side and Fantasy straight ahead - I've gotten my money's worth right there. I have the same kind of feeling as I walk up the stairs to our seats in the stadium. When you finally look out at the perfect green grass and the freshly manicured infield, the day's game is an empty scorecard of potential.
My son and his friends were able to stay put for about three innings, then the sugar from the the root beer floats (today's promotion) started to kick in and they needed to go check out what was for sale as well as how fast each one could throw a baseball. My wife sponsored this exodus, and I was left alone in the upper deck (okay, the other 40,000 other folks kept me company).
The home team was behind by two runs in the bottom of the ninth. Careful base running and timely hits got us back to even, but the rally stalled and the extra innings began. What a treat - the seats were two dollars apiece and then they made the game a little longer. In the tenth, with runners on second and third and two outs, a little bloop into left by the second baseman drove in the winning run. The kids had made it back to the seats by this time, and we all had a grand high-five celebration. After that, we picked up our souvenir cups and headed down the ramp to the parking lot. The only sad part was thinking of the kids who left after the eighth inning. Oh well, they can head back out to the park on Friday - I hear it's bucket hat day.
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