A lovely spring day in the Pacific Northwest yesterday. It’s been like that all week, actually, but yesterday was special as it was the first baseball game of the year for me. We went to see our local team, and Claire’s faves, the Seattle Mariners playing against last year’s American League champions, the Tampa Bay Rays.
We got there nice and early to see batting practice, and after moving around the stadium a bit, found ourselves very close to where a ball was coming… closer… closer… closer… bounced off the floor, and like a panther, Claire was on top of it. Little did she know as she was going for it, there was a little old fella trying to get it too. We had made a decision that if a pre-teen kid was going for the same ball, we’d let them get it. We didn’t have an upper limit, so the old fella came up empty-handed. He wasn’t really that close to it, to be honest, but I’ve not told Claire that. She never reads the blog anyway, so I’m gonna let her think she was mean to a senior citizen. Anyway: beer, peanuts, garlic fries, and, of course, a hot dog.
And it was a good game, very enjoyable for those who enjoy a good pitcher’s duel. Ichiro hit a solo home run of the second pitch of the game, 1-0 to the Mariners. Two hours and twenty-two minutes later, the game was over. 1-0 to the Mariners. Off we dashed back to the car park; Vroom, vroom, and we’re in another car park near to the Paramount Theatre, just in time for the show to begin: Jerry Seinfeld. And he was everything I dreamt he would be. Just really, really funny. Laughing pretty much for the entire eighty minute show. And near the end, he said the two words I guess we all secretly hoped he’d say…. Hello, Newman.