Sunday, June 26, 2005
Take Me Out To The Baaaall Gaaame
I have now enjoyed a baseball game. I'm officially an American again.
On the other hand, it was the annual Congressional baseball game, where the Republicans play the Democrats in a fantastic display of no athletic talent. The Democrats all sit on the left side of the field, and the Republicans all sit on the right. Sometimes I had trouble remembering whether to root for the batting people or the throwing people, but overall I had a great time. Mostly, I think, because I knew who all the players were. This may also be why I like college sports.
Case in point: Rick Santorum gets up to bat (The man, not the frothy mixture). The Democrats boo him. I understand this. The next time he gets up to bat, we start chanting "Bob Casey." I understand this as well. Thus, I both boo'd and chanted with relish. (Someone also made the mistake of giving me "bam bam" sticks, which were great fun. It's worth noting that I avoided bam-baming the sticks on other people, mostly because I avoided the overpriced beer. Though also not drinking, The Boy had no such reservations. Alas. It reminded me of Michael's favorite joke). I understood the rest of the game as well, which surprised me, but it was the caring that made the difference. That, and the Congresswomen getting up on the dugout to lead the cheers.
Other News: Mr. Picky's girlfriend (she needs her own name, but I'm too tired to think of a good one) fell outside while chain-smoking and spent the weekend in the hospital.
Also, Mr. Picky is in a much better mood these days, and it's not because I vacuum (ew). In other words, I get another month to find a new place to live, so I don't have to live in the U-Haul truck. And we're getting a new third roommate.
On the other hand, it was the annual Congressional baseball game, where the Republicans play the Democrats in a fantastic display of no athletic talent. The Democrats all sit on the left side of the field, and the Republicans all sit on the right. Sometimes I had trouble remembering whether to root for the batting people or the throwing people, but overall I had a great time. Mostly, I think, because I knew who all the players were. This may also be why I like college sports.
Case in point: Rick Santorum gets up to bat (The man, not the frothy mixture). The Democrats boo him. I understand this. The next time he gets up to bat, we start chanting "Bob Casey." I understand this as well. Thus, I both boo'd and chanted with relish. (Someone also made the mistake of giving me "bam bam" sticks, which were great fun. It's worth noting that I avoided bam-baming the sticks on other people, mostly because I avoided the overpriced beer. Though also not drinking, The Boy had no such reservations. Alas. It reminded me of Michael's favorite joke). I understood the rest of the game as well, which surprised me, but it was the caring that made the difference. That, and the Congresswomen getting up on the dugout to lead the cheers.
Other News: Mr. Picky's girlfriend (she needs her own name, but I'm too tired to think of a good one) fell outside while chain-smoking and spent the weekend in the hospital.
Also, Mr. Picky is in a much better mood these days, and it's not because I vacuum (ew). In other words, I get another month to find a new place to live, so I don't have to live in the U-Haul truck. And we're getting a new third roommate.
