I survived my flight to Cleveland and met up with my buddies, and immediately headed south in Sean's RV, Florida-bound. After stops in Nowhere, West Virginia and Savannah, Georgia, we pulled into our old friend Butch's driveway in the Tampa area on Sunday afternoon. Catching up on old times, we watched St. Mary's get screwed in the NCAA tournament selection. Dicky V was hot about it, too.
We went to our first game Monday night - Rays vs. Pirates in Bradenton. After paying $89 for tickets online, good ol' Sean couldn't muster up an extra $2.50 for shipping and handling, so we watched him stand in the will call line, not once, but twice. One of the workers misled Butch, telling him that Sean could stand in the "Admin Will Call", but of course, there was a reason why that line was so much shorter than the "Web/Phone Will Call" lines. Sean was instantly denied, and had to do the walk of shame back to the other line. He wants me to post notice NOT to stand in the line to the left!
We arrived in our seats, third row from the field down the left field line. So close to the field and action. We watch as fathers slave drive their kids to harass the players for autographs so they can pimp these items later on Ebay. Sean starts yelling about child labor laws. We have a discussion on the Pirates LF on how to pronounce his first name. I'll leave that one alone for now. Then the game started - and wait...was is this? What kind of seats are these? We have to crane our necks 90 degrees to watch the game! Rays win 6-4, despite my efforts to rally the home team Pirates in the last inning, when we moved to some empty seats by the Pirates dugout. Notice to Tampa fans - will you stop ringing the cow bells, it makes you look like a podunk town. My neck is still stiff from those seats.
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