Take Me Out to the Ball Game

A few weeks ago, we went to see a baseball game. I have to admit it’s been years since I’ve watched the Zephyr’s play. I used to go often. Maybe I’m weird,

but I liked sitting on the levee to watch the game. You weren’t restricted to a seat that never gives you enough leg space and you are so close to the person next to you that you can smell their body odor. And let’s face it, watching a baseball game in the summer in New Orleans means lots of body odor because you sweat so much you look like you jumped in a pool with your clothes on. On the levee we used to bring blankets and sneak in food(Gotta have peanuts) and drinks (shush). It was like going on a picnic. When I’d get bored, I would go to an empty part on the levee and roll down the hill. WARNING: The kids that are there will follow your lead if you do this, and be careful they may think of you as their new best friend and pick grass and put it in your hair. (True Story)

Baseball is an American tradition. Don’t get me wrong. You will not catch me watching it on television unless I needed a nap. But being at the game is fantastic. The last time I went, my father-in-law scored us seats right on the first base line above the Zephyr’s dugout. Although it did not replace the levee, the experience was still remarkable. However if you suffer from attention to the game issues, I don’t recommend it, unless you hear the ball connect

with the bat and are willing to duck just in case. :o)

Because it was Friday, this meant Firework Friday. This wasn’t the usual firework show that I had remembered. It was so much better. The music could use a little work, but the fireworks were very cool and close. I was in awe. I can’t believe how great the pictures came out on my phone.

Point of this: Take a day to travel back to America’s roots. Go watch a baseball game. “Root Root for the Home Team. If they don’t win it’s a shame. For it’s one…two…three strikes you’re out at the OLE BALL GAME.”