Monday, 11 July 2011

Why I hate baseball

My friend hoodyhoo just returned from vacation which included an I'm sure very boring baseball game.  She made me think of the one and only major league ball game I've ever been to. 

In eighth grade we went to see the good ol' Toronto Blue Jays at Skydome for our graduation trip.  If you've never heard of them it's because they haven't won a game since the early 1990s. 

The whole class was seated behind one of the bases.  I don't know which base.  Are there three?  Maybe the second one.  Yeah, behind base number two. 

Anyway, it was surely the most boring thing I've ever witnessed.  Throwing fuzzy peaches at your eighth grade ex-boyfriend can only entertain a person for so long. 

At some point we realized that our classmate Collin was way up in the nosebleed section.  WAY up there.  I don't know how we knew that.  Eighth graders didn't have texting devices in 1998. 

But there he was.  Sitting and waving from the upper atmosphere.  And of course this was a friggin GENIUS idea. 

So off we went.  Wandering up through the ballpark as high as we could.  I don't remmeber much of the trip.  I must have been too lightheaded to commit it to memory.

Once we got situated and waved to our friends, some douchbag Ball Cop found us and asked us what we were doing away from our seats. 

Wtf?  There was nobody - not a single soul - up there.  And those seats cost, what? Three, four bucks?

Perhaps we should've explained that it was just for fun.  But we were too chicken.  So we did what any reasonable fourteen year olds would do. 

We lied. 

We lied through our fuzzy-peached teeth. 

We claimed we were looking for our friend Michael - Michael who was the ultimate dork and didn't even come on the trip in the first place.  But for some reason his was the first name that came to mind. 

We said he was lost and we were worried about him. 

The lie seemed to work, until we were walking behind the Ball Cop down the layers of walkways, with him on his radio searching for a weird kid with high jeans and shaggy hair. 

Yeah.  It was like a park-wide search party.

So what did we do?

We lied.  Again. 

When we got back to our bleacher level, we raced down the steps, ran up to a random kid in our class (Jacob) and whispered for him to play along. Then we started yelling: "Michael! Where have you been? We've been looking everywhere for you!"

He half-smiled with giant question marks written across his face while we nervously waved away the Ball Cops with a thumbs up.  I have no idea if they bought it or not. 

This is the kind of antics I got into as a kid.  The dorky loser kind.



  1. I used to go to Expo games all the time and do the same shit... granted there were only about seven other people AT the game, so I'm pretty sure no one cared.

  2. For various good reasons I spent most of my high school years attending every single home game of our local professional indoor soccer team. This sort of thing happened ALL THE TIME. It made no sense - this was INDOOR SOCCER. In the USA. In the 1990's. The stadium was never more than half-full on the best of days. What gives?

  3. This is such a coincidence because I was just talking about baseball an hour ago and I never do that. I was shopping with my sister and I saw a really cute Atlanta Braves shirt. And I asked her if I bought the shirt, did that mean I had to start watching baseball again. She said yes, so I put it back. I'm not ready for that kind of commitment.

    But I used to watch every single game. And I also played softball every year. AND I always made the all-star team. What a lazy ass I've become.

  4. Kev - The Expos! I forgot about them! Are they still a team? I should know, but I guess I don't. There was nobody at the Jays game either, really. Ball Cops are just dick pickles.

    Ang - I can't even believe there WAS an indoor soccer stadium in the USA in the 1990s. Sounds like fun though.

    jacqui - I don't blame you. i wouldn't be ready for that commitment either. however, I have to respectfully disagree with your sis. I think you should wear all kinds of Tshirts that you have no real association to. I have a Harvard tshirt, for example.

  5. Haha...that's hilarious!

  6. I was ready to say, "Amen Sister" after reading the title. Not of fan of the baseball.

  7. To Jacqui and Marianna: I agree with Marianna. I'm wearing my Yale t-shirt as we speak, and I have definitely never set foot on that campus. Go get that tee and wear it proudly! Cute trumps accuracy!

  8. Lin - :)

    Mediocrity - Glad you get it "Sister" ;)

    LB? - Damn skippy. I at least have been to the Harvard campus, but still. Cute does trump accuracy.

  9. Pretty much all sports bore the shit out of me, but none so much as baseball.

    And if that's the worst you ever did, then you were a pretty good kid. Me, not so much...

    Michael probably owns a billion dollar company now. Too bad we didn't know we should be hooking up with the dorks for lifelong financial security.

  10. Liar, liar, pants on fire.

    I'm from Cincinnati, land of the Reds. So I grew up on baseball. I knew you'd want to know that.

  11. Falnnery - Yes, I'd be terrified to look up Michael now.

    Laura - You make "baseball" sound like an alien planet. Which it is.

  12. Yup - I got it for $5 at some sketchy store north of Toronto. I adore it. I did go to the Columbia and Barnard campuses to buy THOSE tees though!