Report from the road

Yesterday afternoon I had the pleasure of visiting Hagerstown, Maryland, home of the Hagerstown Suns. The Suns are the single-A affiliate of my hometown Washington Nationals, and play in one of the best minor league parks around.

Is it big? Nope.

Is it modern? Nope.

Is it filled with gadgets and high-techery? Nope.

Municipal Stadium was built in 1930, and is a cool place to visit precisely because it does not contain any of those aforementioned qualities. They also have little between-inning silliness I’ve described elsewhere as totally useless. Oh, there was a moonbounce but my son really enjoyed that.

The concession stand menu?

Hot dog, hamburger, ice cream, peanuts, and something called “beer.” Yeah, no vegan fried kale sushi for 27 dollars or whatever the major league parks are giving out these days.

Guess how much it was to park?

That’s right. And I could see my car from the grandstand.

Did I sit in the grandstand? Heck no, for 12 bucks I got the Marlins Man seats, right behind home plate. My son and I did move around a bit, as there were 4,000 empty seats. (That’s a slight exaggeration; capacity is 4,600 and official attendance was 638.)

This is what minor league baseball is supposed to be.

Nightmare scenario

Nightmare scenario: the “national” basketball association’s final pairing has a team from Toronto in the finals.

No entrant from America Jr. gonna mess this up.

And hockey? Those pesky Boston Bruins have a chance to give Boston its third straight championship. St. Louis, let’s not let that happen.

That is all.

NBA update

The word “raptor” in Latin means thief (so they tell me), and the Raptors of basketball are about to steal one from the Milwaukee Bucks and TV executives across the fruited plain.

Yup, this is what every American TV exec wants… Toronto playing in the NBA Finals.

I can hear the “U-S-A!” chants already.

New prediction

So much for my San Francisco double. Would have been amusing though.

For better or worse it seems now the city of Boston is poised for an unprecedented triple if the Bruins can secure a Stanley Cup against the St. Louis Blues.

World Series, Super Bowl, and Stanley Cup in the same eight months?

The rich get richer.

Time to bring this one out again

Tomorrow would have been my dad’s 77th birthday. He’s been gone for more than a decade, but obviously not a day goes by that I don’t think of him. And, of course, like all men I’ve spent the past few years becoming more and more like my own dad, and… I’m fine with that.

Submitted for your approval here, a reprinting of a list I composed several years ago. These are “Lessons my father taught me.” Dad never actually said these things, but I picked them up eventually anyway, piecing together some things he might have said were he around. Be warned, most of these are not noble or decent, as “lesson” lists tend to be. No, these are practical, and above all genuine. These are the real rules my father taught me.

Thanks, Dad.

And Happy Birthday.

 

Rules My Father Taught Me

1. Put yourself first.

2. Never let work get in the way of your hobbies.

3. Make sure other people are more indebted to you than you are to them.

4. Stash away as much money as possible.

5. But if you really want something you should buy it.

6. The only person you can really trust is yourself.

7. There is no need to meddle in the lives of others.

8. It doesn’t matter what other people think of you, including your relatives, friends, and coworkers.

9. When in doubt, consult Rule #1.

10. Every once in a while, do something selfless and generous, just to keep people on their toes.

Championship City

Durant and Cousins don’t even play and you still win by 20 points? That’s a team that’s going to win a championship.

And when the Sharks make it a Bay Area double… you heard it here first.