Sun Sick

Went to the ballgame Sunday and got a sunburn that is totally making me run down and a bit sick. I'm tired, too, so apologies up front.

Okay, so off to the ballgame. First thing is the GPS gets lost with all the construction and drives me through the airport. Drat. But no worries- I've accidentally driven through the airport before and even though the sign says $2 drive through fee, they've always waved it off. Not this time, Mr Mass Plates (I gotta change those), this time it's $3 por favor. She even asked me where my plates were from before charging me. I protest, but her English isn't very good so I pay and move forward.

Next I realize that you can't pick up the parking pass I payed for at Will Call without parking the car. So, that goes well and I dump another $20 on parking, plus the $10 I already paid on-line. Starting to drift into Red Sox outing prices.

Anyhoo- find my seat, right down front. Here we go.

First fun bit of Texas: the Anthem is sung by the Redneck Tenors. That's them up there. Amazing mullets. I thought they were fake at first, but they seemed real enough. Everybody around is drawling: "Them Redneck Tenners is good! I seen them at the Hootin' Holler back apiece."

I am not making that dialog up. And the tenors were good. I thought they would play it for laughs, but they sang it straight and it was pleasant enough.

Speaking of singing, they damn straight had us sing Deep in The Heart of Texas half way through the game. It was like that scene from Pee Wee's Big Adventure where everybody does the the clapclapclap clap on cue. Oh, they love Texas here.
So I take my snaps and discover that this close it is very hard to focus through the mesh. I have to switch to manual focus so that it doesn't hunt the whole time and it gives me a new appreciation for pro sports shooters. It's hard to watch the game through a camera lens- especially a long one. I end up with a bunch of crap shots like these and miss the only real action (long balls and two rundowns)
Which takes us to the best part of the day for me: the Running of the Giant Headed Famous Texans.

When the announcer comes on to start the race even before he tells it the people behind me with the Hootin' Holler history know what's coming. "Ah git Day-vee Crockitt this time!" the boy interjects hurriedly. Apparently he had been gypped out of picking the famous frontiersman in a previous big-headed race and wanted to get his dibs in right away. The father makes a disgusted sucking sound to indicate his assent but doesn't orally pin his hopes on either of the other contestants.

As they race around home from third towards the finish at first base, they are on their feet behind me making jumping motions without leaving the ground. "C'mon Davey!" he brays.

The drunkish 20-something men to my right shake their heads in appreciation. "That Davey sure can run!" one of them says without a trace of irony.
I cut out in the seventh.