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Thursday, August 31, 2006

Small town baseball is a hoot.

The Boise Hawks are doing quite well - only a few games to go before the end of the season, so Randall decides to get us tickets. Off we head to the stadium. We first stand in line for our hotdogs and sodas (have to have those for the ballgame!) and then move up to our seats. First up: three honorary first-pitch pitchers, one of whom (the Attorney General) barely manages to throw the ball far enough - it bounces a couple of times. A children's choir sings "My God, My Country" with enthusiasm but little audible effect, since they seem to have one handheld mic to go around the forty or so of them. The national anthem (big surprise - the gal can actually sing!!) Then the game starts.

Between every inning, assorted silliness - the great potato race (Spud won, because French Fry fell over.) Bouncing the Pepsi ball. Three skinny young women in a hotdog eating contest. Fourth inning: The Beer Batter! Sadly, he strikes out. Randall is disappointed.

Very appropriately, two hawks (real ones!) have built a nest right on top of the light tower. One keeps circling overhead while the other sits on the nest. Must be a bit warm up there with all those flood lights.

A five year old girl and the mascot race. People throw Frisbees into the audience (we get one.) The players are popping balls out of the stadium at an alarming rate - just not in the right direction. Each ball is accompanied by the appropriate sound effect - breaking glass for those flying into the parking lot, squealing brakes for those heading towards Glenwood St, an irate duck for those flying off into the park. Finally, something happens - Boise scores. And scores again. An infield grand-slam. I am impressed.

More enthusiastic little children sing "Take me out to the ball game."

By the time the sixth inning rolls around, Boise is ahead by 7, the hapless Spokane Indians have yet to score. We decide to call it a day and go home. On the way out we get a parting present. Sara Lee Bread. Two loaves. White and Wheat. Why? I don't know. But we are set for sandwiches for a while.

Is there anything more American??

posted by Birgit
1 comments at 2:37 AM

yep, you got it. everything but "the crack of the bat, the roar of the crowd, the smell of hot dogs and fresh cut grass!"
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