Jeff!!! I loved your pictures from Nats park and I’m psyched that you
got to see Strasburg. I also saw that you’ve been to Sox park and
Wrigley recently. What’s your favorite ballpark that you’ve already
visited and which place would you like to see the most?
After a fiery, bloody internal debate that lasted well over an hour, I finally decided not to begin addressing this query by postulating what one would find if he/she were to actually venture to Manassas, VA… ‘cuz I’m pretty sure one can find Man-assas (a$$e$?) anywhere… including ballparks all across US America.
Still got it, folks.
Okay, maybe not.
But it doesn’t matter… and neither does the ballpark, Caitlin. What matters is the game. Sure Busch hosts my boys, Wrigley’s nostalgic, Nats Park has Ben’s Chili Bowl and Sox Park is a good place to pick up Latin Queens; but to be honest, I can find something positive about any and every ballpark I ever go to. And I’ve been to many.
My favorite random ballpark story is the one about the Oakland Coliseum. I happened to be in San Francisco on business. It was a Saturday night and I had nothing to do, so I hopped on the BART to Oakland, walked up to the ticket counter at the Coliseum and said, “I got forty bucks. Where can I sit for that?”
“In a good seat, Honey.” said the kind ticket lady.
Ten minutes later I’m sitting behind homeplate on the first tier above ground level and I can hear Nick Swisher’s awful jokes with my own ears. Ten minutes after that and I have a Fat Tire in my hand (at the ballpark!) and a few hours after that I was sufficiently drunk off the seductive elixir of the game itself.
And that can happen anywhere.
Though there is one place in particular that I just gotta go to, before it goes back to just hosting football games:
(Chewbacca image via 9GAG)
Finally, there is something to distract me from the escalating woes of St. Louis’ bullpen, the blooming ERA of the White Sox pitching staff and the rumor mill officially known as Veepstakes!. Yes, dear readers, it is time for another Olympiad. The story lines are plenty, but first and foremost my focus will be on whether or not the Chinese follow through on their promise to change the weather to their specifications. They have made great strides in weather modification (I heard the North Koreans gave them a hand with the necessary plutonium) so I really look forward to seeing them turn off the rain and turn on the sunlight. I am also curious to see how successful they are in duping athletes into thinking that the ominous, smoky, gray haze really is just fog and not smog like the big bad foreign devils claim. And of course, we all look forward to watching sappy melodrama after sappy melodrama, narrated by Bob Costas, featuring Olympians who overcame war, severed limbs and mange to compete on the world’s stage.
Interesting as the above may be, still, as a proud US American, I must say that the two main story lines I looked forward to the most will not be present in Beijing. And this, dear readers, makes me sad.
Because ever since Deadspin made her an internet sensation, I have long dreamed to watch California pole-vaulting vixen Allison Stokke turn multicultural heads. When I found out she didn’t make the USA team, I was crushed. In my depressed stupor, I chugged a 40 oz., plucked out a few of my eyebrows, and drunk-dialed everyone I knew.
No one answered the phone.
If you’re one of those people unfamiliar with the greatness that is Allison, you don’t need to know much. These pictures will provide all the necessary information:
Besides Ms. Stokke, the presence of St. Louis Cardinal top-prospet Colby Rasmus will also be missed. Touted as the ‘next big thing’ in the Cardinals farm system, I have been ravenous to watch him play. With a measly .249 average and just 11 homeruns in 329 at-bats, I know he hasn’t had quite the year everyone expected him to at Triple-A Memphis, but there’s no telling what putting on the Red, White & Blue uni could do to a player. Unfortunately, a leg injury will keep him from making the trip so I will be left to watch Davey Johnson manage the likes of Gronkiewicz, LaHair, Segovia and Bacsik — very US American-like names that I’ve never heard before.
Of course, there will be one big name I’m glad I won’t have to see play, whine, cry, shoot-up, whatever and that is Roger Clemens. There was some hinting that he might make a run at pitching for Team USA and all I can say is that I am very pleased that general manager Bob Watson quickly dismissed any potential shenanigans involving Mr. Clemens. After the Marion Jones fiasco, the last thing US America needs is to have another steroid scandal — especially one involving the most detractive PED user this side of the Atlantic.
The decision to keep Clemens at home with his underaged and/or married love affairs was elementary my dear Bob Watson and I thank you for making it. In fact, I, and the rest of US America, applaud you for it. That being said, I don’t quite agree with your hasty acquisition of Chewbacca for the starting pitching rotation. His fastball is a little weak and I’m not so sure he’s from our country — or planet for that matter. Did you check his birth certificate?
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I ask the tough questions, Watson, and don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
U-S-A, U-S-A, U-S-A!