Yawn
I overslept this morning. We went to a baseball game last night. We saw the Akron Aeros, who are a minor league affiliate of the Indians. The future of the major league team. Pee-yew, they stink! The top of the first inning lasted nearly an hour as the Aeros pitching gave up 7 runs. Seven! We were sitting behind home plate and the umpire made a horrible call against the Aeros (a ball when it was obviously a strike)and people started heckling. Including my dearest husband.

I enjoy the game of baseball, but when I'm actually there, at the stadium, I pay no attention to the game. I'm all about the people watching. At a minor league game you get all sorts. You have the section of scouts with their radar guns, recording every move the pitcher makes. You have the section of wifes, all done up in their hootch outfits, some of them with babies, all sitting together. Occasionally you have the washed up celebrity in the audience (last night it was some old Browns player I had never heard of, but that's not shocking because until Tim Couch left he was about the only name I knew -- and Bernie Kosar of course). Then you have what my father-in-law calls the "misfit toys" -- the weirdos and crazies who frequent the ballpark. First you have Microphone Man, who carries a playskool-style microphone around the ballpark and announces everything that he sees. Mind you, the microphone is not turned on. For instance, he'll announce the menu at the concession stand. "All beef hot dog! Threeeeee dollars! Pepsi, Diet Pepsi, and Sprite!"

Then there's BatMan. He is an actual employee of the Aeros. A fully-grown, rotund adult, BatMan's role in the organization is to be the bat boy for the opposing team. He sits in their dugout and retrieves bats when necessary. However, he does it with his own special flair. He'll pick up the bat, and then weave it, figure 8 style, around his legs, and then behind his back, and then pick it up and carry it back to the dugout. During breaks between innings, he will come onto the field and dance to the songs they play over the loudspeaker. We're talking air guitar, we're talking a move akin to the Robot, we're talking the thing where you kind of make a wave with your arm and then the wave travels over to your other arm, as if a current is running through your body. And not executed gracefully by any means. Last night this dance routine was performed to Bon Jovi's "It's My Life," and also the classic "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)". I can barely do him justice, he's really something you have to see for yourself before you can appreciate the wonder that is BatMan.

Next there is Heloise. She is an 80+ something usher who gets up after the 7th inning and leads the crowd in "YMCA." Cute if you've seen it once, annoying if you've seen it anytime thereafter. I guess that while she's not booging it up to the Village People, she is complaining and bitching about everything under the sun.

The concession stands are a trip, as well. It was $1.50 beer night, and the entire concession stand is being manned by teenagers. There's one adult allowed to dispense beer, and she's in the back, so they have to find her, and when she finally comes, she has to fish in her pocket to find her glasses to check Owen's I.D. Twenty minutes later, we had beer.

And finally, you have the charm that only a smaller ballpark can bring. There are contests between innings, which usually are amusing enough to watch. For instance, two drunk, beer gut havin' buddies had to put their hands behind their backs, grab a chicken wing off a plate with their teeth, and race to the finish line. And this adorable little boy, in another contest, raced around the bases with the team mascot. He couldn't have been older than 3. He started down the first base line and instead of turning to go to second, he kept heading straight into right field, which brought the house down. Amazingly, he was set back on course and won the race to the crowd's delight.

It may not have been a spectacular game, but it was an enjoyable evening all the same. The final score was... oh hell. Do you actually think I remember?