We went to a minor league baseball game on Sunday night. It was unfortunately the last one of the season. It was a great time. While I've been to a number of MLB games (the KC Royals), this was unlike any other game. I'm not a baseball fan, I don't watch it on TV and I rarely even keep up with the World Series. But this was a slice of midwest heaven.
In a small, yet well made stadium just on the west edge of town is where the game took place. We parked only about 4 car rows from the entrance. It only has a single seating level. Our tickets were front row right behind the dugout on the 3rd base line. I could have hit an umpire with a half-eaten slushie. Of course there were hot dogs, peanuts, pop and beer. Oh and cotton candy. It was just about 2 degrees in to hot, but the sun was going down behind us and we were sitting in the shade of the stadium.
There is something about being at a baseball game that makes you love it even if you don't think you're a fan. I think it might be the crack the of bat on a solid hit and watching the slow arch of a home run. The crowd hushes at that sound and all eyes watch. Will it clear the wall? Regardless of the outcome, the crowd thrills.
A great midwest thunderstorm loomed off to the North. The sky was dramatic, but the front held off until the 9th inning. When it did wash over us, it was like a cool blanket draped over the field. A gusty wind turned the flags around. But for the last few moments of the game, no one cared.
In the end our home team (the T-bones of course) lost by 2 runs. I didn't care. That game was the best baseball game I ever saw.
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