Mark Thursday, May 7th as the day I cracked. With my impending absence from work, I had a full day of clearing my desk before heading out for the Angels game. Why not use Conrad's Iphone to throw up a quickie post from the game? Two reasons:
1) We had the finest seats of my life and it would not have been advisable, from a safety standpoint, to take my eyes off the field for the risk of a right-handed hitter spraying a liner foul into my grill.
2) I'm not that serious about the whole thing.
It was a great game with the seats, the buddies, the retro 1980 uniforms, the first career complete game by Jered Weaver, two home runs by my fantasy players, and approximately 9,000 calories consumed. Not to mention, "Just Another Halo Victory!"
Someday when life allows, I would love to get season tickets to the Angels with the guys. And I'm not talking about going in on a couple seats and going to 30 games or so when we can and selling or giving away the extras. I'm talking about setting aside that summer and literally attending every single home game. Taking the journey with the team. Making the commitment to the team and with your bestest buds. It probably won't happen and if it does, I doubt it would be before we're all retired and the kids have all moved out (and they haven't even been conceived yet). What can I say, it's a dream of mine.
It bothers me when I am out running and a fellow runner passes me going the opposite way on the sidewalk and shuns me when I nod or smile at them. Now given the crazies in this world, I can fully understand why sometimes people might be wary of greeting a stranger on the street. Sometimes you feel it, sometimes you don't. I get that. But it's friggin' seven in the morning, folks. It's a proven fact that psychos sleep well past seven. Not to mention that they normally don't put on gym clothes and go jogging (soft J). I don't know about you stiffs, but I am rather proud if I am able to drag my ass out of bed and hit the streets for some stone cold sweatin'. Are you so pro that you feel not the pride? If you do feel it, are you too cool or tough to share it? I'm running, you're running; how about some sign of solidarity, guys? It reminds me of those rare times when you run into somebody wearing the exact same shirt as you. Some people smile and nod. Others are humorless dimwits or are simply above such frivolities. Same principle here, I guess. Color me a smiler.
Heading back to the heartland manana. We're gonna go for it. See most of you there next week! Hooooooooooooooooooooo!
I leave you with this great song by Glen Phillips.
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