I do not understand how such a thing could possibly have come to pass, but I am leaving my apartment in 45 minutes to be a spectator at a live baseball game. The New York Yankees are playing at Yankee Stadium. My brother says they are probably playing the Minnesota Twins. I have never seen a live baseball game before and I am very frightened. What if I get hit in the head with a ball and develop amnesia? What if I get food poisoning from a hot dog?
What if I have to watch people playing baseball?
If there are never any posts on this blog again, you can blame the New York Yankees for my untimely demise.
TAKE YOUR KNITTING! I’m serious, there’s even a “pitch and knit” in Seattle this weekend. Knitting is the COOL thing to do at baseball games which last rather a long time and which are rather slow going. Have fun!
Calm down. All of your anxieties will wash away when you see your first shirtless straight hottie in the stands. And there are going to be tons of them.
There are always tons of people to ogle (those shirtless boys are adorable when they don’t think anyone is watching them).
If you get bored (and you will get bored, go walk around and look at the people.
As for balls flying at your head, you should always be on the lookout for that…
Please just promise not to actually cheer for the Yankees. Just…please. Not the Yankees. Anyone but the Yankees.
*shudders*
Would you feel any different if they had cheerleaders?
Baseball’s much better than football. You might actually have fun.
Hmm. Or not.
You may not have much fun (then again, you may), but at least you will provide entertainment for those around you. A few years ago, I took a friend who was 35 or so to his first ball game ever, and it was a scream. We were right above third base at Camden Yards. We were a good way up off the field, but every time the ball was hit anywhere within a hundred yards of us, he would cower in his seat and cover his head with his hands, which amused me endlessly. I also got to explain the game to him, and it was good to find that my time in little league had not been for nothing.
I go to Mets games every so often with my baseball-loving dyke buddy Big D. I always take something to knit. And there’s beer. It’s survivable, pinky swear.
BTW, I’m going to pimp this since Faustus hasn’t yet — Faustus and I are going to be on the Derek & Romaine show on Sirius OutQ tonight (assuming he makes it out of Yankee Stadium alive). Details on the time and how to listen online are here on my site.
LOVE live baseball.
When I lived in NYC that was one of my favorite things to do. Can’t stand watching it on TV but the whole event itself, in person, was something I could have done a lot more.
I’m trying to adjust to the concept of Faustus eating a hot dog
Pretend that they’re playing for your love.
And, if there’s a brawl, pretend it’s over you.
Baseball is so boring!!
I just hope you’re not pee-shy, because the bathrooms at Yankee Stadium are horrifying. See if the lesbians will let you use the ladies’.
Tonight I am going to a baseball stadium to see the Baltimore Orioles play what my source tells me is an important game. I hope to see the man in the bird costume dance around, and I hope to learn about the infield fly rule.
He must be i a coma ~ it’s Saturday and nary a peep.
It’s such a pity you grew up in a minor-league town. A childhood in Cincinnati — home to the country’s first professional baseball team — took me to the park on many occasions. It’s not just watching a game (though I will confess I find the game fascinating), it’s a social experience. You eat, you drink, you gawk at weird people, you chat with friends, you knit — so much more sensible than painting your body blue — you enjoy yourself however you want. It’s worth noting that baseball is played in a “ball PARK,” i.e. a place of general recreation. I’m not surprised that you survived.
One great loss: After 9/11, Majopr League Baseball turned the 7th-inning stretch into a patriotic exercise. “God Bless America” supplanted “Take Me Out to the Ball Game,” alas. Once when I was taking an advanced conversation class at the Alliance Francaise, the conversation somehow turned to baseball, and Daniele Seban, the teacher, was quite astonished when 20 business-suited conservative types delivered a perfect rendition of the song. Hey, even you went aloing with the Cracker Jack….
Pingback: The Search for Love in Manhattan