an american sport

in my humble opinion, you can’t get much more fun, or american, than a baseball game.  you just can’t.

there’s something about the smell of the grass, the roar of the crowd, and even the crunch of the peanut shells under your feet, that evoke a patriotic infused feeling of summer. 

even if it’s at the minor league level.  the same feelings apply.

the sound of the bat, making it’s ever so brief impact with the stitched ball and catapulting it into the sky.  the moment the lights turn on to illuminate the field and it’s surrounding audience.  the smell of the dodger dogs, being roasted to perfection.  oh, wait … I guess that only happens at dodger stadium.  but our local minor league team {go rivercats!} has a pretty mean dinger dog going for them too …

it may go unmentioned, given my permanent union to a die hard giants fan … but deep down inside, I’m a dodgers fan at heart.  I blame my dodger blue blood on the mexican that raised me.  the guy that taught me the classic baseball song {take me out to the ballgame, for those that might not be american} and replaced “home team” with “dodgers” … for far too long, I actually thought the song was strictly a dodgers song.  im just that gullible trusting of the man that I call “dad”.

he loved the dodgers for good reason: born and raised next to dodger stadium, with stories of sneaking in to view the game from a perched position on top of a fence … before working there in highschool.  it’s his childhood.  and he passed the love on to me.

now, given our lack of a tv to help in my fandom, I’m not much of a fan.  {my blood is in fact red, like yours, believe it our not} but when it comes down to it, given the opportunity, I’ll always “root, root, root for the dodgers!”

but back to what I was saying about the game of baseball …

one thing in particular that makes the plastic-chair-sitting experience of being at a 9 inning-long baseball game so fantastic: the food.  and thank God for 9 innings.  makes way for 3 courses. 

1st inning: hot dogs
3rd inning: garlic fries with jalapenos
supposed to be 6th inning, but couldn’t wait: nachos … with jalapenos of course

at least that was the menu for our last baseball outing.  and to disgust my sister even further, another story about all the food items she would never dare let enter into her healthy little body: one time, my dad and I went to a rivercats game with the goal of eating one of everything on the menu throughout the game: dogs, nachos, cheese steak sandwiches, fries, crackerjacks, cotton candy, and who knows what else was consumed during that game.  I admit, it was in my younger years of higher metabolism and no care for the processed food.  {don’t worry kris, I couldn’t and wouldn’t do it again … but at least I can say I did it!}

he’d hate me for including this picture, but I guess that’s a perk of him not keeping me accountable and checking what I post on here.  he’s just so cute!