Take Me Out to the Ball Game

So I have just been to my very first major league baseball game. Ever. So THAT's what all the fuss is about! Awesome. It probably helped that the Cubs won the game. The mood at Wrigley was festive. We went to the game because today is our friend Sergio's birthday. (Happy birthday, Sergio!) His girlfriend bought eight bleacher seats for him to invite friends. I wasn't going to go but they had an extra ticket and Mike convinced me. "It's the CUBS, Cindi." I figured...why not? If it's boring, I'll have plenty of people to talk to to keep me entertained. In the car on the way to Sergio's house before the game, Mike randomly turned to me and said, "We're going to a CUBS game." Just like a kid.


I was sitting inbetween Mike and our friend Greg...who amuses me just about as much as any one person on the planet can ever amuse me. Amid watching the game and discussing the absurd ratio of cotton candy guys vs. hot dog guys (4:1), we also engaged in a heated debate involving the parameters of Generation X. Greg claims I am not a member of Generation X because I did not see Star Wars: A New Hope in the movie theater. I question his requirements.

It became clear that the hot dog guy was not going to make his way back to the bleachers section - so we had to dispatch a hot dog "envoy" to bring us back some tasty treats. Mike and Greg decided to head out and get some beer, soda and hot dogs for our little crew. Greg made it all the way back from wherever it is (in WISCONSIN) that they have the food-and-beer place located at Wrigley Field without spilling. He makes it all the way back and is standing next to me when he is thrown off balance somehow and splatters himself and the two rows in front of us with beer. Luckily one row in front of us was still part of our group and the row in front of them was caught with only minimal sprayage. Greg cleaned up the seats with the napkins while we heckled him mercilessly. He finished the clean up and sat down...on his hotdogs. He'd set them down behind him so he had both hands free for clean up. It was the funniest thing. Greg keeps cracking jokes at his own expense and we're all holding our sides - laughing so hard we're crying.

Who needs a game when you've got entertainment like that?

P.S. I had peanuts but was unable to locate any Cracker Jacks. I feel a little cheated. I did eat three hot dogs, though. Sergio's girlfriend put it this way...and I have to agree. "Baseball...come for the hot dogs, stay for the game." Yummy.