Ok, so I promised a semi-interesting story about what went down at Wolff Stadium last Thursday evening as we took in the Missions/Hooks game. I was very excited that the San Antonio team's opponent was from Corpus Christi because a) they are a Houston Astros' affiliate (I used to work for the owner of said team) and b) my husband has finally begun to instill some Texas pride in my heart (but please don't tell my friends and family from Cajunville).
Anyway, imagine my surprise when we showed up and found Koby Clemens (yes, Rocket's kiddo) has moved up to the CC Hooks. You see, when I was working for Uncle Drayton, that was in the golden era of Houston baseball when the Rocket and Andy Pettitte were pitching for the 'Stros. In fact, I was still there when we drafted the ol' K-ster so it was pretty cool.
Plus, look at him below (#21) - he totally looks like Roger from the back, which made my heart very happy. Why? Well, because when Andy signed with Houston all of the ladies in the office just thought he was the most beautiful man upon which they had laid eyes. I, however, had an affinity for Clemens (not in a leave my husband way but, you know...)
Why? Well, I have this theory about men. I like 'em with a little padding. There's just too much pressure for someone with my palette for sweet and salty things to be with a man whose physique resembles carved stone.
That's all I'm sayin'. You could, perhaps, say that had something to do with my current (and final, I'm happy to report) choice of man. Who, by the way, looked super cute sporting his new sunglasses in an upside down fashion. And Taylor was actually cheesing it up so I had to snap a photo with my trusty Blackberry (see poor photo quality) because I forgot the camera in the car and, let's just say Mama was tuckered out by this point so there would be no returning to said vehicle.
Anyway, we were enjoying what turned out to be an overcast evening at the ballpark that boasted a semi-strong breeze (thank you, Jesus) and munching on $1 hot dogs while fawning over our new Missions t-shirts that were being given out that night when I realized that our friends down south are major baseball fans.
I mean, like, yelling and screaming fans.
One could use the word heckling and, quite frankly, I don't think that would've been too strong. Just a personal opinion but a rather solid one, I believe.
And then the evening took a turn. While I was engrossed in some ice cream (one must enjoy it to the fullest, regardless of location, in my opinion), there was some type of disputed call at first base. It would appear the manager of the Hooks did something so naughty he was ejected before he even left the dugout.
Which, of course, meant he had to come out and make a statement. The statement turned into a scene. The scene turned into the manager actually trying to physically attack the umpire/official/whatever. And then the fans started throwing bouncy balls at the players.
So, of course, the players then began to "call the fans out" from the field. Did I mention the fans throwing things were, of course, in our section? And that we were on the third row at first base where all of this took place?
Well, we were. And my child had a birdseye view of some very childish behavior, which I tried to turn into a teachable moment between bites of Rocky Road. Eventually the manager actually left the field (you know, after one of the other coaches drug him off) and the fans who were throwing the balls were ejected as well.
That's right, folks - the fans were EJECTED too!
Which is what precipitated my man turning to the guy next to him and asking, "So do y'all always play baseball like this down here? It's wildly entertaining."
His answer? "No, just mainly on dollar night."
So, I'm thinking, the get all hopped up on hot dogs and popcorn?
Nope, it was also dollar beer night as well. Clearly you've gotta read the fine print when scheduling family outings.
0 comments:
Post a Comment