I'm totally excited right now.
Because I have a date tomorrow with my very first boyfriend.
He and I are having a father/daughter outing and going to a spring training baseball game. The last one, actually, to be played in my hometown. Probably ever. Our resident team, the Tampa Bay (Devil) Rays, are moving their spring training show down the road starting next season.
My love of baseball can be traced directly to my dad. He played in high school and college and might have gone on in the sport, had an ankle injury not stopped things. Growing up, my tuchus was firmly planted on the unfinished splintery pine of ball park bleachers, as my brother played little league and Daddy was always the coach. There wa a time when I thought I might want to be the first female umpire. Until I realized how dirty I would get and how unattractive that chest protector was.
Daddy taught me how to keep score, how to watch the pitcher/catcher relationship and how to anticipate certain plays. To those who say that baseball is boring, I say pfttt -- you've just never been schooled in how to really watch it.
These days, I watch my own little ballplayer (left field!) play ball...
So tomorrow at about 1:05 pm, I will have my tuchus firmly planted in a grandstand seat, scorecard and pencil in hand, hot dog in my tummy, my first cold draft beer of the afternoon at my feet and my daddy next to me. (Plus my ball cap on my head and SPF smeared everywhere the sun might touch my skin.) Ready to hear those words: "PLAY BALL!"
In honor of the occasion, I've been marinating in All Things Baseball...
... I threw together a baseball playlist -- on Imeem, natch...
... I've been watching James Earl Jones sum up all that is beautiful about the game...
...and I've been laughing at this, perhaps the greatest comedic duet ever.
Enjoy! I'll see you at the seventh inning stretch.
Probably in line for the ladies... because really -- you don't buy beer, you just rent it.