Tag Archives: Baseball

Some Glam Geek Thoughts on The World Series

No where in any of my books does it say what sports team a girl should root for, but if I was going to guess, I’d say that Arlene would suggest rooting for your husband’s team.  Since Ian doesn’t watch sports (this is fine with me) I guess I’m safe from having to choose.

My last boyfriend, Aaron, like the Buffalo Bills and the Montreal Expos, now the (Washington Nationals) because he enjoyed things that had no chance of working out (i.e. our relationship).  And since he had this annoying habit of completely abandoning me while he watched games (especially when he would drag me over to a stranger’s house and then ignore me while I tried to make small talk with a bunch of other abandoned girlfriends I’d never met), I’ve developed a healthy dislike for sports and a fantastic ability to make conversation with strangers.

Now Mike, wonderful Mike, is a die-hard Yankees fan.  Like, the kind of guy who wouldn’t date a girl who WASN’T a Yankees fan, even though I half-heartedly tried to set him up with my friend Melissa in TX.  And part of his being a Yankees fan means he HATES the Red Sox.  I’ve never had a man love me with the passion that Mike has for hating the Red Sox.  I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone as much as he hates the Red Sox, and I can get pretty angry. Like at James Franco.  Goodness, I just hate his smug, stupid face!

Anyways, I just can’t get behind the Yankees. I don’t know what team Mr. W roots for, but both Matthew and a former professor of mine who’s company I greatly enjoyed are both Sox fans, so my inclination is always to cheer for them if they’re playing and I happen to notice/care.  Mike, if you’re reading this (and I know you are) I am sorry.  If there were two different teams in the World Series, I wouldn’t even care, but since it was the Sox, I had to root for them.  And by “root for” I mean “noticing the score in the next day’s paper and thinking, “Oh, Matthew/My Professor will be happy’ and then carrying on about my day, because sports scores have no other effect on my life.”

Thus concludes our discussion of baseball.  Let us never speak of it again.

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Take Me Out to the Ball Game

A baseball game.  A date that isn’t too involved, one you can carry through comfortablyWhat To Do On a Date (1951)

Pictured: Victory. Also, Doreen

Pictured: Victory. Also, Doreen

I know literally three things about baseball: 1) It’s played with a ball, 2) There are bases involved and 3) That if you lose, you get ice cream and if you win, you get Pizza Hut.  This vast knowledge was culled from three years of pee-wee softball where my coach, Doreen, would sit down on a splitering, lead-painted bench, fire up an unfiltered Kool, gather us girls around and, in between inhales which she kindly directed right into our eight-year-old faces, tell us to get out there and play without ever actually, you know, teaching us how to play.  Needless to say,  Becker’s softball team never saw the inside of a Pizza Hut.

But apparently, a ball game is a fun date, and Mike has been anxious to see the Oneonta Outlaws play, so we did.  Mike is and always has been one of my favorite boy friends because he, having known me for nearly a decade, has figured out (more or less) how to treat me, like complimenting my skull earrings and paying for things.  I remembered too late that he liked the blue eyeliner I was wearing on our last date to the drive-in, or else I would have worn it for him.

Currently NY is experience temperatures not unlike the inside of a slow cooker.  It’s hot, it’s damp and it’s sunny, but the sunscreen merely lays on top of your skin like an extra layer, only unlike your cotton sundress or tee-shirt, you can’t sweat through it.  Miserable conditions for a ballgame, but we’d been trying to schedule this for three weeks now and we weren’t going to let nuclear sunlight drive us away from our date.

Mike knows tons and tons and tons about baseball.  He’s a Yankees fan, and the only non-jerk male Yankees fan I know, so throughout the game, he would explain stats and tell me about awesome plays he saw on YouTube.  We sat in the shaded deck and then, later, in one of the empty box seats to watch the Outlaws completely blow a game against the not-much-better Syracuse Salt Cats in the first game of their double-header in what was mostly an ongoing display of Beckers-esq incompetence.  (They won the second game, but I’m not sure what that does for the ice cream/pizza roster).

What was nice about the game was the relaxed atmosphere.  We could have drinks and chit-chat and keep an eye on the game and cheer when one of our players did something good, but it lacked the intensity of professional sports, where you’re crowded in with superfans screaming in your ears.  Plus, I also got to follow Arlene Dahl’s advice about drawing out his ideas, which I think Mike enjoyed.  And making sure your partner enjoys the date is, according to the short, one of the fundamentals of dating!

So maybe next time we’ll go to a weenie roast . . . or fix up a scavenger sale!