Take Me Out to the Ballgame, but Leave Mr. Loudmouth at Home!

On Saturday I went to my first Diamondbacks game. I'm not a huge baseball fan-- but I do like actually going to games. Something about actually being in the park is fun. And it was bobble head day, so I also got my first bobble head, which was very exciting. I mean my apartment had really been missing that certain decorative something, and I think the void has now been filled by Justin Upton's unstable plastic noggin.

We ate big, overpriced hot dogs and drank equally overpriced soda with reckless abandon. It was a good night.

Somewhere in the 4th inning or so people were doing the wave when a particularly opinionated and loud gentleman in his late 30s nearby said, for every one's benefit, "There's no wave in baseball". He said it with the same dramatic emphasis a motivational speaker says "There's no 'I' in 'team'," but it didn't leave the same warm team building feeling afterward. In the 5th inning, this man, who I affectionately named "Mr. Loudmouth" in my head, made a phone call. It was a very important phone call and so he made sure that everyone within two sections of where he was sitting could hear his end of it.

Mr. Loudmouth: Dude, I need to know if you want to come to the game tomorrow, 'cause Monica is feeling bummed so she doesn't want to come and so I have a ticket, so...

(Monica, I assumed, was the completely unresponsive and unemotional woman sitting next to Mr. Loudmouth.)

Unfortunate Acquaintance: ...

Mr. L:Yeah well, I'm gonna take the light rail so if you wanna come you need to meet me at the light rail at like 11. I'm gonna be there at 11. So if you wanna come to the game...

UA: ...

Mr. L: Yeah, she's bummed. She had work today. So, you know. So she doesn't want to come to the game tomorrow. So I'm gonna be at the light rail at 11 and if you're not there, I guess... you should just be there.

(same conversation repeated several times)

Mr L: K, later dude.

I'm glad he didn't keep his voice down, because I never would have known about his plans for the next day.

By the 7th or 8th inning some little leaguers in the next section over were entertaining themselves by trying to encourage people to start the wave. They were relatively successful and obviously proud of their accomplishments in crowd control. Mr. Loudmouth again loudly shared his opinion that "there is no wave in baseball". Enter three college men who have had their share of baseball beer. One college boy, sitting directly across the aisle from Mr. L, said, "Dude, you're yelling at kids. Shut up." Mr. L didn't exactly like being outshouted and responded that there was, indeed, no wave in baseball. College Boy asked if Mr. L had ever seen a Pro game. Mr.L asked if College Boy had even seen an orthodontist. College Boy used some expletives to express his desire that Mr. L would keep quiet. Then Concerned Parent sitting in front of them added a, "Hey, there are kids here," to the conversation.

Things were getting exciting. In the 9th inning after Mr. L made another loud snarky comment, College Boy offered to show him a Pro game up close by throwing him on to the field. Some I'll-meet-you-in-the-parking-lots were hurled around. College Boy asked where Mr. L was parked because he would meet him there. (I wanted to point out that the light rail station might be a good place to start, but I didn't want to be an accessory in Mr. L's murder.) Mr. L kept up his loud comebacks, but I think he was getting a little nervous. And I have to say that when the game ended Mr. L and Monica booked it up the stairs and out of the park pretty darn quick.

It was an entertaining night at the ballgame, on and off the field. Can't wait to go to another game!