We are newbies when it comes to sharing season tickets to our local baseball team. For years, friends, neighbors and colleagues have exhibited their Natitude proudly, but somehow we have never been swept up in the hoopla, even when the team won the World Series a few years ago. But this year, when we were approached directly about splitting a 22 game plan, we decided to see what all the fuss was about. "They're going to be terrible," our neighbor shrugged when we agreed, "but it's still baseball!"
And after two games, we have found that she is right. It's fun to go out to the ballpark, to cheer and dance and make some noise. It's nice to sit outside and people watch, and I like try to identify the type of pitch before they put on the screen, and predict how the hitter will do based on his season stats. And it's easy to get caught up in the drama and outrage of a bad call, even if booing the guy who left for the other team is a little too much. It's not that personal for us, yet.
But... last night it took us an hour and a half to drive the 7 miles to the stadium from our house. We left plenty early and only missed the first inning, but dang! That could be a deal breaker.
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