I'm Such A Sucker For Free Stuff

Indianapolis has a minor league baseball team (the aptly named Indians) and we like to go to a couple of games every summer. Sigh. I just love minor league baseball. I love the atmosphere, the fans, and … well, okay. I love the free stuff you get at minor league games as an incentive to attend a game. Even when the temperature is over one hundred degrees.

I. Love. Free. Stuff.

The following conversation took place between my husband and myself.

Me: Let's go to an Indians game Thursday night. They play the Louisville Bats.
Husband: Are you crazy? It's going to be over a hundred degrees on Thursday.
Me: Yeah, but it will cool off when the sun sets.
Husband: You do realize that it will be at least ninety-nine degrees when the game starts and about ninety-three when it ends.
Me: Oooo, good point. I'd better grab a sweatshirt.

The entire hour long ride to the ball field I was given temperature updates from my husband.

'It's ninety-eight degrees.'

'Wow. It's up to ninety-nine.'

'Ooo, it's back down to ninety-four.'

'Nope. Now we've hit one hundred.'

'Crap. Now it's a hundred and three. Jeez, Jen, are you sure this is a good idea?'

For the record, it wasn't a good idea. It was a great idea, mainly because Thursday night is Value Night at Victory Field. Loosely translated this means that you pay an extra five bucks for your seat but the Indians kick in a hot dog, a t-shirt, and unlimited sodas.

I'm such a sucker for a free weenie and t-shirt, I can't even tell you.

It's kind of alarming that I can be that easily swayed, but there you have it.

I was starving when we got to the game. I immediately retrieved my free hot dog and loaded it up with mustard and diced onions. Not going to lie to you. I inhaled my wiener. It was completely unattractive, but necessary.

After setting was has to be a record for fastest hot dog consumption, I snapped this photo. I call it 'Meeting of the Minds'.

Most spectators think the umps are discussing the finer points of calling a runner either safe or out. Others think they are discussing the strike zone.

I overheard them chatting. Want to know what they were really saying?

Ump 1: Dang it's hot!
Ump 2: Aw, you know it, Steve! What kind of fools come to a ball game when it's this hot?
Ump 3: Did you guys see the lady dork in the first row of the balcony? The one with the camera and the profusely sweating husband and two kids?
Ump 1: … um, yeah. What about her?
Ump 3: She brought a sweatshirt.
Ump 2: You serious, dawg? What is this world coming to?

I don't care. It was a great night for baseball ...

… even thought the good guys lost. Between you and me, I knew the Indians were going to lose to the Louisville Bats. It was written in the sky.

Okay. Not written exactly, but there were a few bats flying over head. Not baseball bats, but actual winged mammals like the kind that flew out of Captain Caveman's cave on the late '70s cartoon.

Huh. I guess free t-shirt and wiener night brings out just about everyone, doesn't it? Pin It Now!