If you live in Philadelphia, you have to like a sport. It's required. Philadelphia is known, for better or worse (often worse) for it's sports fans. There are the football fans, remembered for that time that they, en masse, threw snowballs at Santa Claus during an Eagles game. There are the hockey fans, known for that time that they loudly booed Sarah Palin in front of her 7-year-old kid. And then there are the Phillies fans, who in their delirious joy at finally winning the World Series for the first time since 1980, joyfully overturned several of their fellow Philadelphian's cars (we paid for it--I met the owner of one of the overturned cars, and his website, phillyfixmycar.blogspot.com gave him enough money to replace his trashed vehicle, plus more to give to one of the other victims of Phillies fan joy).
Mark and I are Phillies fans. You may have guessed that from the fact that Mark is rarely seen without his Phillies cap and we've been schlepping a Phillie Phanatic across the country. We are used to the Philadelphian way of watching sports, which is to be highly educated about every player on the field, chant and clap with all our hearts, scream until our throats hurt, and take everything that goes wrong as a personal affront. "WHY ARE YOU DESTROYING MY SOUL???" We have been known to wail to the umpire on the teevee who has made what we consider to be a bad call. Mark may be from Ohio and I may be from New York, but we are Phillies fans through and through, which is why we felt completely out of place at the Indianapolis Indians game last night.
At the game. I usually don't look this ghoulish, but lets just say my greenish tinge was due to my missing the Phillies.
We recognize that people, in general, do not put as much stock in minor league games as they would for the major leagues. It's a smaller field, a smaller audience, we went on a Monday night, but COME ON PEOPLE. SCREAM!!! YELL! FEEL RAGE!!! FEEL JOY!!!!!!! DON'T JUST SIT THERE. Oh dear lord, the Indians, which had been ahead for the whole game, were falling to pieces before our eyes in the 8th and the only real sentiment that it seemed to stir up in the crowd was one of mild disappointment. ARE YOU KIDDING ME???? THE OTHER TEAM HAS MADE 6 RUNS IN TWO INNINGS AND NOW IT IS TIME TO BEAT AT OUR CHESTS AND TEAR OUT OUR HAIR AND THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR THE WOMEN BEHIND US TO BE HAVING AN INVOLVED AND INCREDIBLY BORING CONVERSATION ABOUT ALL THE MEDICATIONS THAT THEY ARE ON!!!
But on the whole, it was still a fun night. We got to eat dollar hot dogs for dinner, watch the kid next to us freak out every time a foul ball came near us, and we saw Aroldis Chapman, this really amazing prospect, pitch for the Louisville Bats.
This is what I look like when I play baseball, or what I assume I look like when I play baseball. Or it's what I look like when I dance. Either way, I look awesome.
Today we're headed to Kids Ink for an event, and then making our way to St. Louis for the event at Puddin'head Books tomorrow evening. Stay tuned, dear readers, for pictures of Atticus trying to eat the Indiana State Capitol Building.