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April 27, 2009

Just A Quick Check-In About Going to the Ballgame This Weekend

Went to the baseball game this weekend. The Mets hosted the Washington Nationals at the sparkling new CitiField, so named because the good people at Citibank had too much money, and so decided to get rid of some on a baseball stadium. And thank goodness they did because CitiField is a much better name than H&HBagelField, which was the runner-up.

I attended the game with my brother, his son, my two kids, and my uncle who was visiting from Chicago, or as he calls it, Chicagoland. Everybody was excited to go to the game, and that excitement lasted all the way until the second out in the first inning when the whining began. My kids wanted hotdogs. Which was expected. I wanted a hotdog too, but I didn't need it within three minutes of sitting down. First I wanted to admire the green, green grass and the blue, blue sky. First I wanted to take in my surroundings, and see if there was any potential upskirt vantage points (there weren't). I did not want to immediately get into a long hotdog line. But I did. Because if there is anything worse than whining children, I don't know what it is, and I have long ago learned to give my children whatever they want because it keeps them quiet for three minutes at a time. Yet another reason why I am once again a finalist for Parenting Magazine's Father of the Year Award.

So we all got hotdogs, which were made by the famous folks at Nathan's. Delicious, as expected. Their crinkle cut french fries, while tasty, were a little on the mushy side, and the water we all shared was watery - just the way I like it. After the hotdogs, the kids were quiet for three minutes and then started asking for Cracker Jacks because the guy came around yelling "Cracker Jacks! Cracker Jacks! Who wants Cracker Jacks!" Had he not asked the question, my children might not have answered: "Me! Me! Me!" But he did ask, and they did answer. So I bought a bag of twenty-two dollar Cracker Jacks. (Not really. I don't know how much they were because I'm on TV, but to a regular person they were probably a lot.)

My son dug right in, but my daughter decided she didn't like Cracker Jacks, which triggered the first "I want to go home." This is the third inning. I explained her we couldn't go home yet because the game had just started and because we weren't fucking going home. She turned around and decided she wouldn't watch the game. Which was fine with me. Then she said she wanted cotton candy. I said no. I don't know why I said no, except that I think cotton candy is gross and because I had just bought so much crap I didn't want to buy more. But apparently "no" was the wrong answer, because that started tears and tantrums and undoubtedly planted a seed of resentment that will eventually blossom into a tree of rage during her adolescence. Did I finally give in and get her the cotton candy? I did. Because I am trying really hard to win that Father of the Year Award.

So then they had cotton candy. When that was done, my son decided he'd had enough, too, and he wanted to leave. And his stomach hurt, which I could not understand. But we did not leave. My brother, nephew, and uncle seemed intent on staying, and we were not going to pussy out before they did. So we sat there and watched a few more innings of uninteresting baseball; the others went to walk around the new stadium. Did we want to join them? My children did not, even after being promised a chance to view the new Jackie Robinson rotunda. Now I am a huge Jackie Robinson fan, but his significance was somewhat lost on my eight and six year old. So instead, we just sat in our seats and I listened to them complain some more. Finally we also decided to walk around, which was fine.

We found my other family members, and together we checked out the kid's area, sponsored by EA Sports. They had a fancy t-ball set-up, a pitching machine and a Hershey Park sponsored dunk tank, which was notable for the fact that the tank was filled not with water but foam, which ruined the entire effect. Plus, the guy getting dunked didn't yell insults, but instead shouted words of encouragement like "Good try!" Good try? Who wants to dunk somebody who wants you to do your best? That runs counter to the whole dunk tank mentality. So that sucked.

Then we roamed up and down the stadium stairs because my daughter wanted to go as high as we could go, which turned out to be pretty high. We did that. Twice. Then we retired to our seats where the drunk guys in front of us recognized me, and I had to sign one of their college textbooks and the other guy's tits. Which would have been okay if he'd had a better rack, but he didn't. Finally after, the Nationals put away the listless Mets 8-1, we made our way out of the lovely CitiField and to our cars. The game was more than a bust, but less than a rousing success. My son told me he hates baseball and doesn't ever want to go to another baseball game, but at least he said this somewhat cheerfully. There was no malice in his voice; instead it was just a simple declarative statement: "I hate baseball and never want to go to another game." So much for my breeding another Sandy Koufax. My daughter also does not need to return, although she seemed less adamant about her decision.

As for me, I'm going back to CitiField tomorrow night, this time without the kids. Because unlike them, I love America.

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SaraNicole

That sounds like one long day.


Hope you have fun going alone.
GO AMERICA!

ProfBrendi

Try giving a quarter to each kid for 15 min of quiet. See if you ever get to 50 cents per child. Did not appreciate vodka & tequilla until second one started speaking to the first one.

EmGusk

As probably the only Nationals fan who reads your blog, GO NATS! Also, I was at CitiField Friday night...Beautiful stadium (but I wasn't there with small kids).

SchenkelTown

I used to go to every Philadelphia Phillies Sunday home game. It gave me a chance to point out why being Jewish on Sundays was pretty awesome, or at least for three hours or so. I used to be really freaked out by the birds that used to flew around Veterans Stadium. You'd think I would have been fixated on the fact that the Phillies had a shortstop named Dickie Thon.

Will

I gotta get out east where they have watery water. This dry west coast shit is grating on my nerves...

Christina - whatsinyourmanpurse.com

Do you like being recognized?

How many tits have you signed?

Do your kids understand that you're famous?

Are you the younger brother or middle child?

Fred Wilpon

Thank you for supporting our New York Metropolitan Baseball Club. As we discussed at the game, I am indeed very interested in your investment opportunity.

tvparty

I'm going to have to side with your kids on this one.

Bicky

I find this to be hilarious.

kristy

At least you did it in the right order! Had you gone with cotton candy, cracker jacks, then hotdog, you would have most likely been shaking kid chunks off your sneakers. Surprised the sgar coma didn't last longer...maybe not enough cracker jacks.

Keesh

This blog is number 342 on the list of "Why not to have kids".

EVERYONE- get a dog, you don't get thrown in jail for putting them in a kennel.

Reen

Your spins on everyday life are simply the best.

I remember well the days of "whine and rosy (butts)". Day trips with small children rarely live up to the Normal Rockwell image. It's a damn good thing kids are so cute, with their chubby grubby sweaty blushy selves, it's what keeps them alive.

The Naked Redhead

I, too, went to a baseball game this weekend, but it was for the Columbus Clippers, who, in all honesty, I did not watch. The only reason to go to a baseball game is to eat hotdogs and drink beer. Hands down. It is the only time I feel patriotic, and dammit, if terrorists came to Columbus, Ohio and tried to take over Huntington Park, I would follow the example of my Revolutionary ancestors, buy a pitchfork at Lowes and charge those bastards. Then, if they drank tea, I would throw all their tea into the Scioto River, where everyone knows you can catch syphilis if you accidentally fall in.

kevin

you should take pictures of yourself at the next game eating obscene amounts of hot dogs and cotton candy, and show them to your kids after.

Mikey

I'm a regular guy, and yes, those Crackerjacks are expensive.

thecitychicken

I have two kids. Been there, done that. Remember that t.v. commercial for granola bars and the hook line was, "Chewy stops the chatter!" I always thought that was insulting. But now I hand out suckers left and right and say, "Chewy stops the chatter!"

Dan

At least your national summer pastime is baseball. In the UK we have cricket. I'll have to pass on going to games until my son is old enough to bugger off on his own and look after himself.

Bailey

If you keep giving into your kids' every whim, they is going to be fatties. Ain't they?

ChrisL

Dear MIB:
I want to apologize for commenting on your "Doomsday" Blog(?) without reading it. That was unfair. I skimmed this piece and found it quite easy to skim in spots. Was this a school assignment? I found the parts that did catch my eye very detailed, and I enjoyed your use of descriptive words. I would give this a B+ myself, but I grade rather easily. Keep up the good work!
Thank You
A Fan

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Then, if they drank tea, I would throw all their tea into the Scioto River, where everyone knows you can catch syphilis if you accidentally fall in.

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Their crinkle cut french fries, while tasty, were a little on the mushy side, and the water we all shared was watery - just the way I like it.

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The only reason to go to a baseball game is to eat hotdogs and drink beer. Hands down. It is the only time I feel patriotic, and dammit, if terrorists came to Columbus, Ohio and tried to take over Huntington Park, I would follow the example of my Revolutionary ancestors, buy a pitchfork at Lowes and charge those bastards

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Cho Yung Tea

Wow you guys make me want to go to a ball game. As an avid football fan I'm now trying to broaden my sports horizon by watching baseball but its just sounds like I have to go to the ballpark for the true experience

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