Take Me Out to the Ballgame

One of our favorite summer activities is watching a Bees game at the minor league ball field in Salt Lake City. The park is beautiful, with the mountains to the east and the lake to the west. I love to sit out on the berm -- the kids can run around to their heart's content and I can eat all the Kettle Korn while they're gone. Perfect.

Also, some nights they shoot off fireworks after the game, accompanied by country songs (mostly about America, mostly by Toby Keith). It's so small-town USA -- I love it. They also let the kids run the bases after the game, which is always a big hit too. I like the certificates for a free kids' meal at the Spaghetti Factory that they get as they cross home plate. Me, four kids, and four certificates = dinner at The Spag for $9.72. Awesome.

We attended a game the other night and a fly ball came our way sometime during the 6th (5th? 4th? 8th? Ok, I don't watch the game, I watch the people. Duh.) inning and our friend doused herself and the two hapless folks on either side of her with some sort of golden-colored, possibly alcoholic, beverage. I was glad I wasn't taking the kids up to their father's house afterwards . . . I can just imagine the conversation.

"What? Beer? No, I don't think they smell like beer. Do you smell like beer?"

We were very surprised to see my aunt and uncle on the JumboTron, apparently they'd won tickets to the game from RC Willey and they got to sit in La-Z-Boy recliners for the whole game.
The boys found the Bee -- and came back with hard evidence of their encounter.

One of the secretaries in my office is a Bee Girl (she's the cutest one, of course) and so I worked that connection on the next game we attended. Zach got to call the lineup for the third inning and Abby and Spen got to be in a dance competition on top of the dugout. Spen had a hard time focusing on his dance moves because, Hey! There I am on the JumboTron! Look at me!! Now I'm pointing!! At me!! On the JumboTron!

Of course, I didn't take any pictures of that. Instead I just texted my parents and Rich. That's enough, right?

Rachel, the diva-est diva of the bunch, magnanimously gave up her fifteen minutes (or seconds, whatever) of fame so Abby could participate in the dance contest. What a struggle for her poor little attention-seeking self! I was very proud of her generosity; I'm pretty sure in the same situation I would have given in to the part of me that loves the spotlight and made Abby sit it out. And by "part of me," I mean, "all of me." But you knew that.

Anyway, now the season is winding down and I don't think we'll get to another game this year. Which is really too bad, because I haven't had nearly enough Kettle Korn.