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Aug. 15th, 2008 08:41 pmIt may be almost as insane to take your 3 1/2 y.o. to a night game at Fenway as it is to take your 2 1/2 y.o. to Spain. But it's less insane if it's nearly free.
We lucked out on Thursday: some season ticket holder had a change of plans, and was looking to just get rid of 4 tickets for the night, so we got those for free. Since it was such last-minute scrambling to get there, we got there kind of late, and therefore could park in my employer's parking garage for free, too. (I get free parking for the night shift only.) Snacks were rather overpriced, as usual, though.
The only trouble with getting there late-- ALL the excitement was in the 2nd inning, when the Red Sox batted around, which we partially missed. After that, not much drama or suspense in that game.
But it was pleasant. Sophia dealt with the whole thing pretty well, even though it went way past her bedtime, and she missed the fun stuff they do at minor league games, such as balloon animals, Canaligator putting on a show every 1/2 inning, and running the bases after the game. Minor league games are more for kids, major league games are much more serious about the baseball.
It's different watching the game in the park than on TV. It's kind of nice to not have the commentators blabbing away. I don't know why people fawn over Jerry Remy and Don what's-his-name so much. They're not bad as TV sports commentators go, but, seriously, folks. Unfortunately, I can't just turn off the sound when watching baseball on TV. Without any sound cues-- the crack of the bat, the roar of the crowd, the commercials marking the half-innings-- and with the game just on a little tiny screen instead of all around, I would lose track of the game entirely.
Well, it was pleasant to not have the commentators blabbing away, but it was weird not telling me what just happened. Things happen faster than I can see them, and I don't really know the little sign language the umps use to signal their calls. Was that a strike? Did they tag that runner? Did that pitch actually hit that batter or did he fall just because he dove to get away? I think I'm getting over the commentator habituation, though, because it seems to be that you can always figure out the answer to these questions by looking at what happens next, or the scoreboard. Hmm. Low-tech baseball viewing! Neat!
We lucked out on Thursday: some season ticket holder had a change of plans, and was looking to just get rid of 4 tickets for the night, so we got those for free. Since it was such last-minute scrambling to get there, we got there kind of late, and therefore could park in my employer's parking garage for free, too. (I get free parking for the night shift only.) Snacks were rather overpriced, as usual, though.
The only trouble with getting there late-- ALL the excitement was in the 2nd inning, when the Red Sox batted around, which we partially missed. After that, not much drama or suspense in that game.
But it was pleasant. Sophia dealt with the whole thing pretty well, even though it went way past her bedtime, and she missed the fun stuff they do at minor league games, such as balloon animals, Canaligator putting on a show every 1/2 inning, and running the bases after the game. Minor league games are more for kids, major league games are much more serious about the baseball.
It's different watching the game in the park than on TV. It's kind of nice to not have the commentators blabbing away. I don't know why people fawn over Jerry Remy and Don what's-his-name so much. They're not bad as TV sports commentators go, but, seriously, folks. Unfortunately, I can't just turn off the sound when watching baseball on TV. Without any sound cues-- the crack of the bat, the roar of the crowd, the commercials marking the half-innings-- and with the game just on a little tiny screen instead of all around, I would lose track of the game entirely.
Well, it was pleasant to not have the commentators blabbing away, but it was weird not telling me what just happened. Things happen faster than I can see them, and I don't really know the little sign language the umps use to signal their calls. Was that a strike? Did they tag that runner? Did that pitch actually hit that batter or did he fall just because he dove to get away? I think I'm getting over the commentator habituation, though, because it seems to be that you can always figure out the answer to these questions by looking at what happens next, or the scoreboard. Hmm. Low-tech baseball viewing! Neat!
