On a sunny Thursday afternoon last month I snuck out of work to go to a Royals game. Zach Greinke was on the mound. When my son, Justin, got home from school, I called him to brag about the fact that I was sitting in the 7th row about 1/3 of the way from home to third base. When I got home I continued to brag about being there while he was in school. I shouldn’t have done that because baseball karma bitchslapped me last night.
My mom took Justin to the T-Bones game (they’re the single-A minor league team in KCK). It was Emporia State Alumni Night at Community America Ballpark, and as the young guest of an ESU alum, Justin got to run out onto the field with the shortstop, Mark Minicozzi, as the lineup was announced. Lucky &^@%#&%!!!
In the 7th inning, he got a foul ball. Lucky &^@%#&%!!!
Then in the bottom of the 9th with the bases loaded, two outs, and the T-Bones trailing by 1, he got to see a walk-off grand slam. Lucky &^@%#&%!!!
Sigh…at least I got to drink beer at my game.
Comments
Does anyone else think it's odd that you'd name a baseball team after a tasty cut of meat that others eat for dinner?
Posted by: doubleohsoul | June 11, 2009 9:46 PM
Instead of Field, Club and View levels, the seats where the T-Bones play are called Prime, Choice and Select.
Posted by: Flick | June 12, 2009 7:13 AM
Maybe Justin snuck in his own beer?
Posted by: Mr. Guapo | June 12, 2009 8:43 AM