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March 3, 2007

Take me out to the ball game...

This week at work I was asked if I wanted some tickets to the local college's baseball game. Tickets to a suite actually, and while I've never found baseball to be particularly thrilling, I took them. You can't pass that up right? The field just so happens to be mere feet from our apartment complex, we can actually see right field from our living room (living room / kitchen / dining room / office.....just in case you were all thinking we had an ACTUAL living room...).

Caleb and I were excited, gearing ourselves up for a day of classic American fun - baseball, hot dogs & Cracker Jacks. We walked over reveling in the warm 70 degree weather, tickets in hand. I think we were most excited about the fact that we wouldn't be sitting around our apartment asking each other what we should do. We do that alot. Too much.

We were to be sharing the suite with several Special Olympics athletes, one of which was going to throw the first pitch or whatever it's called. (First pitch? See how much I know about baseball?!) We arrived just in time to see him throw it, a little too high, and the entire room was just buzzing. The other athletes were so excited to see him out there, and after he threw it you could just see him just puff up with pride. I nearly lost it, especially watching him get high fives from all the players. You'd have to be a statue not to be affected by something like that.

Earlier in the day, I'd asked Caleb how long the baseball game would last. I hadn't been to a game in years. He said "Oh, like 2 hours."When we were an hour into the game and only in the 2nd inning, I realized that uh, 2 hours was a bit fat lie. Try 5 hours. 11 innings. That'd be more accurate.

So during the 5th inning we decided to get something to eat, but found that they didn't take anything but cash. I guess that's what you get when you go to a college game. So we walked down to Subway (a perk of living "in the city") to get some lunch. I was secretly glad, I couldn't have ACTUALLY ingested a hot dog. My dad worked in a meat factory when he was younger, and many a nice dinner has been ruined at our household after he's finished up the meal by giving us the low down on the inner workings of meat factory's. I do not eat hot dogs. Anyway, by the time we'd returned, it was only the bottom of the 6th inning.

Needless to say, we grew a little bored. So we messed around with the camera.


Not a fabulous picture, I realize. I'm learning, I swear.


Caleb took this one, and I always hesitate to put his pics on here because well, they make mine look like crap. I decided to post it anyway, because I rather like it. That's flexibility people, rather impressive from a male. Is this a normal pitchers stance? It looks like he's practicing Pilate's. Maybe he is.

This one was taken with our telephoto lens, and I quickly discovered that while it IS great for long distance shots, it can ALSO double as binoculars. Which is great for people watching. And watching the pitcher make his funny hand signals to his team mates. And holding an unofficial "who has the best butt" contest. And that kept me entertained for awhile.




Caleb throws us his favorite face. The you-can't-touch-me look.


This is me resigned to watching the game because Caleb, realizing my evil plot, has usurped the camera / binoculars.

We didn't win, but we had fun.

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