I have to admit, I was a little bit scared to go– for some inexplicable reason, I have an irrational fear of baseball games. So un-American, right? I mean, I love the idea of going to a baseball game, but for as long as i can remember, I am horrified when the game begins and the bats start crackin. Each time a batter winds up, my stomach knots up. Each time the bat whacks the ball, I flinch, furrow my brow, and bury my face in my hands. Every time the ball bounces off the bat, I am sure it is headed straight for my face.
After Mike and I had been dating for maybe 3 or 4 months, we went to our first Tribe game together. I was excited, loving the idea of eating peanuts and cracker jacks with my new boyfriend. But holy moly, guys. After only a couple of innings, my nerves couldn’t take it anymore and when a ball was hit into the stands, I LEAPT across 4 strangers in our row and DOVE into the stairway, and curled up in a little ball, covering my head. I think this is when Mike knew he was in love with me ;o). I was MORTIFIED and so embarrassed! The ball hadn’t even come close to our section.
I guess you could say I’ve come a long way since that game 5 years ago. I still tense up and mutter nervous expressions quietly to myself from time to time (oh sheesh…by golly…wow wee…hoooo boy….oh my…whoosh) but this past Friday, I mostly had a great time and was hardly nervous at all (maybe it was the dollar dogs and beer that helped to distract me).
It was a great game filled with drama and excitement. Mike and I were the last of our group to take our seats (I just needed desperately to have an Indians baseball cap) and upon reaching our section, we had a run-in with these 2 girls who were in our bleacher seats and SO mean! We asked kindly if they could just scoot down a bit so we could sit down and these girls rolled their eyes, pursed their lips, and bobbed their heads, telling us that they would absolutely not move over– these were their seats. Umm, no actually you’re in the wrong section, but even so, we don’t really care… could you just scoot down a little bit so we can stop blocking everyone’s view/sitting on the laps of our friends? NO. It was the strangest thing ever! I thought we were all Indians fans, all Clevelanders, and all in this thing together! Boy was I wrong! These young ladies started screaming for the official admission/seating guys. I smiled nicely to both of the girls and said, “I’m happy to talk to that guy about this and sort it out, but is it really necessary for you to be so upset with us about this 2 foot plot of space?” The girls snidely retorted, “Look– theses are OUR seats and we are NOT moving, so you can speak to the man about it if you’ve got a problem!”. Okay, happily. And so the official seating man came and promptly moved those persnickety girls out of our seats and into the next section over– indeed those were not their seats after all. We quietly, and smugly took our seats while our friend Mark sang “Nahnahnahnah, Nahnahnahnah, hey hey hey, goodbye.” That was the drama.
The excitement came at the bottom of the 9th inning– we were tied with the Nationals the while game, and we were the last ones at bat. One of our bleacher-mates we had met that night told us about the “rally cap”. He said in a close game like this, you had to take your baseball cap, flip it inside out, and put it on backwards, wearing it like that for the rest of the game. We did as we were told, and wouldn’t you know, we won the game. I think we owe it to the rally cap.
Until next time.
P.S. Captain America is filming in my lovely little neighborhood of Tremont this week! Hoping for a Scarlett Johansson or Chris Evans sighting!