Night at the Phillies

Our town thought it was great that the Little League's "Night at the Phillies" coincided with Barry Bonds' visit to Philly, combined with his proximity to the Babe Ruth record for most homeruns. Unfortunately, I think the coincidence turned out not to be a tremendously happy one.

For one thing, it ended up being a sell-out. This meant it was very, very crowded. I don't like crowds like this--crowds so loud you can't hear your cell phone ring when your husband calls you to ask you where is God's name you are. Crowds so huge you have to wait in line just to get on the escalator to the next level. Crowds so immense that they ran out of pizza, and your daughter refuses to eat italian sausage. Crowds so big that when you finally get to your seat, after delivering boys from your team to their respective parents, you don't want to get up again.

The parade was nice, but not exciting enough to justify the 1 and 1/2 hours of waiting the Phillies required the boys do in the tunnels under Citizens Bank Park. Here are pictures of our team (the turquoise shirts) marching around the warning track of the field-- from far back and a zoom shot.













And here is C cheering them on.
Barry did not hit a dinger that night. But the kids learned some new words to yell from the stands. C thinks the nice folks behind us were yelling "Barry's sunk," and I have not corrected her impression. A got the words right, but I think he understands it to mean that Barry likes lemonade.

Another grouchy post. I am so sorry! I will try to be a little cheerier in the future!