Just in case you’re sick of reading about the election, here’s something that is 100% NOT election-y. (If you’re NOT sick of reading about politics and feel like a good dose of liberal energy, well, you know where to find me on FB ;-))
Jeff and I have decided that, as often as we can, each week we’ll do one adventure-y thing here in the Los Angeles area. Earlier, I posted about going to the Santa Monica pier and the La Brea tar pits. Here’s our next adventure. This happened on 9/15.
One of the best things I’ve gotten out of my relationship with Jeff – in addition to the lifetime of love and companionship, the home, and the gorgeous child who theoretically has half my genes – is the St. Louis Cardinals.
I was never a baseball fan, growing up. Once a season or so, my dad would take us to a Royals game. So I always thought baseball was a place you go to have your sweaty legs stick to a stadium seat, roast under the sun for hours on end, and watch the team (to whom you were supposed to feel an affinity, based solely off geographic proximity to your house) lose. Whoop-de-frickin’-do.
That all changed in summer 2005, when Jeff introduced me to the St. Louis Cardinals: a team that actually won a game once in a while, had a stadium that actually got some shade, and oh yeah: those Minute Maid frozen lemonade cups.
Not to mention that there was an incredibly attractive gentleman to explain the game in all its nuances to me, and admire my assorted tank tops and miniskirts (I WAS NINETEEN. IT WAS 2005.)
[I spent 20 minutes looking for a picture to prove it to you, but I apparently didn't own a digital camera in summer 2005. So you'll just have to believe me. Anyway.]
I fondly remember sitting in Jeff’s parents’ season ticket share seats, watching Eckstein and Carp and Edmonds and Molina and that rat bastard Pujols. We must’ve gone to 4 or 5 games that first season, and I don’t think the Cards lost a single one. It’s enough to make anybody into a fan!
Fast forward 7 years (and two World Series wins!). I’ve retired the halter tops in favor of cardigans (my mom is so glad) and we’ve moved across the country, but we’re still Cards fans through and through.
Best of all, we’ve added another little fan to the mix. His first Cards game was back in mid September, when our guys were in town to play the Dodgers.
Yeah, just a little bit different than our first game, 7 years ago
Simon was thrilled to be there!
Or he was asleep. Whichever.
Never mind that he didn’t really know what was going on. Never mind that it wasn’t at Busch stadium. They were still our Cards:
Though once Jeff had given him a rudimentary understanding of the game, and after the Cards started losing, he became despondent:
It’s OK, baby. There will be other games.
Oh yeah – this happened too:
Cheaper than buying him his own beer and hot dog
One thing Dodgers stadium has over Busch: tofu hot dogs!
This is how little dude spent most of the game: sleeping on his dad, blissfully oblivious to the trouncing that we suffered at the Dodgers’ hands:
It’s OK that we lost: at least we got to be there
This adventure gets 7 out of 10, but only because they really should’ve brought home a win for Simon’s first ever game. I may write an angry letter.
PS>Back when I was pregnant, I bought a super cute onesie for Hoopling to wear to his/her first game: we’d been planning on attending one in this series all along. But then when someone decided to arrive early, the onesie was ludicrously huge. Sad day. So it’ll have to wait on our next little guy/girl