There are few things I enjoy as much on a summer afternoon as a good
baseball game. I admit to being more of a cultural fan than someone who
has the slightest idea what the infield fly rule actually is, as I tend
to be there more for the atmosphere and excitement than the actual game
play. But sipping a cool drink under the warm sun, watching nine
innings go by is one of the best ways I can think of to spend time in
the nice weather.
And I have been to exactly two games since my daughter was born.
Part
of it is my team actually ceased to suck there for awhile, so my
season-ticket-holding connections were avidly seeking more tickets
instead of trying to palm off the ones they had. But the major reason
is
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