Stuff to See!
I Don't Even Begin to Understand
Where to begin?
Well, the strange and unusual continues to find me in the most unlikely places. I need to set a few records straight, but more on that later (mostly about my error riddled piece on cicadas).
Zen Catches Another Ball (and Game)
I went to another baseball game last night. Interleague play, which I have no strong opinion on one way or the other, is going on for the next two weeks. Arizona was in town and Randy Johnson, aka the Big Unit, was scheduled to start. I was sitting about here, nestled among a bunch of season ticket holders, for this night's contest. As usual I arrived early so I could watch batting practice, although I'd recently caught a ball and those things are pretty rare, just like lightning strikes.
BOOM!!!
A ball flies off the bat of Scott Hairston (I think), brother of O's player Jerry Hairston Jr and heads right for me...I put up the right hand, ball strikes flesh, my hand screams, and I'm still holding it. I didn't even have to move. How about that? As I may have said before, I know many people who have been to more games than I, who have never put hand to ball, and here I am, with right hand swelling but otherwise nonchalant, with my third. I gave the first to my little cousin Alex, but here's my collection, minus an Eastern League ball I caught watching a Double-A game once upon a time.
The game was a drubbing. Arizona spanked Baltimore 8-1, but aside from that, the night was wild.
For one thing, there was this adorable little girl sitting next to me, although by the fifth inning she was sucking on a beer bottle in despair over the home team's woes. Her parents threatened me with bodily harm if I took a picture of that, so I demurred.
Also, directly in front of me were a couple of random guys I was chatting with during the game. I'd say some crazy stuff and they'd laugh their butts off. Eventually they even bought me a beer, so that was awesome.
Except that one of them actually works at my old store. Small world.
What follows are some obligatory fuzzy shots of Randy Johnson:
To add to the strangeness...the Orioles started a second baseman in left field, another outfielder who hadn't started all year, a Double-A call-up as DH (I hate the DH), and some other twerp at first base. They hit poorly.
I heard through the grapevine that the starting pitcher for the Orioles (Sidney Ponson, whom I've seen about 600 times now) lost some weight. Looking toward second base, I found it. It was Brian Roberts.
Had a great time, despite the butt-kicking (two consecutive runs scored on wild pitches). Managed to snag a ticket for another interleague game with the Giants in an attempt to see Barry Bonds hit the warehouse. After three games in nine days, I may just be a little baseballed out. We'll see.
More On Cicadas
Just reread the article I'd written before. I was wrong on a few points.
- Adult cicadas don't eat. They subsist entirely on their fatty bodies built up after 16 years underground sucking at tree sap.
- Adult cicadas are not the same as locusts. Locusts are a different type of periodical cicada.
- Everything else should be pretty accurate.
Other Strange Notes of Note
Apparently I've poisoned the minds of many people with my last article. One person complained of disturbing dreams. I've been known to have that effect on people.
Not much else to say...the well of overflowing crap seems to have run dry for the moment. That's just as well. I just wonder what other weird stuff is going to come my way this week...or has it always been this way and I've just been too wrapped up in my own insanity to notice? The truth should lie somewhere in between.
Like bubble gum.
