Bill and I went to our second Cactus League Spring Training game yesterday – this one the Rockies v. the White Sox at Salt River Field at Talking Stick. We actually had real seats just above the third base line instead of sitting on the grass, or so far in the outfield that you have to rely upon the rumor mill to know what’s happening.
Several funny and wonderful things transpired at this game. For example, I took my first selfie. Perhaps as I get better at it, I will learn not to shoot from down to up, as it shows all of my many flaws. J-Lo always looks good in hers….
Oh, and I forgot my phone in the car, so after we found our seats, I left the ballpark to go get it. I was feeling very smart because I remembered to take my ticket. What I didn’t remember to do – in fact, never even thought of it – was to get my hand stamped. It was only as I walked back up to the gate that it occurred to me that there is absolutely no reason they shouldn’t think I am coming in on someone else’s ticket that had already been scanned.
Which, of course, they did. And it is one of the few times that I think it’s better to be old and lucky than young and sexy. “I promise that I am telling you the truth,” I said, because I’m certain if I was lying I wouldn’t say that. I’m sure that’s what they were thinking. But I guess they just didn’t want to take on this frazzled baby boomer in her Rockies shirt. They let me back in, rolling their eyes all the while.
Probably my favorite thing that happened, however, was on the field. It was the bottom of the fourth inning. Rockies were ahead 2-0, and both of those runs had come that inning. Two outs and the bases were loaded. The batter hit a foul ball down the first baseline. Instead of letting it go foul, the White Sox outfielder DOVE for the ball, literally disappearing into the Rockies bullpen as he caught the ball. He comes up a second or so later with the ball in his hand and a big smile on his face.
And here’s what I like about baseball. As he left the field, the crowd stood up and cheered him. Not just the White Sox fans, but the Rockies fans as well. Now, maybe that wouldn’t happen in a regular season game, but it felt good to let him know we appreciated his hearty effort.
But, friends, I buried the lead.
Just this past week I learned something you all probably knew, but I didn’t: the plural of Cracker Jack is Cracker Jack. You will know just what a nerd I am when I tell you that for 61 years, it has bugged me that “Jacks” didn’t rhyme with “back” in the famous seventh inning stretch song. So it was with great pride and enormous gusto that I sang out “Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack; I don’t care if I never get back.”
Have a good weekend.