Jen got tickets from an auction at work: five rows up from 3rd base. After that foul ball hit so close, I was dialed in like no spectator ever before. In the middle of one inning, Jen asked if I had ever played baseball before. The answer, I thought, was obvious—yes, but the ball was large, bouncy and red and I could kick it pretty far for my age.
The quote in the fourth panel is from
I think, an old Pinky and the Brain an old Animaniacs cartoon (See comments.) Maybe. I’ll ask Eric Florida the next time I see him. He says it all the time.
Oh, the Reds lost. As we went into the eighth with a one run lead, we, the crowd, chanted “pizza” to spur the pitcher on to one more strikeout, for free … pizza. The usually un-hittable Chapman blew the save. Could pizza be to blame?
Panel 1: I’m at the baseball game and I’m happy. “I’m gonna look away for just a second and tweet about these great seats.”
Panel 2: The crack of the bat send the ball directly my way…
Panel 3: …and smacking into the seats directly in front of me. I flinch. Badly.
Panel 4: 3½ hours later, I’m watching the game intensely, repeating, “The ball is not a scary spider. The ball will not bite me and throw me in the basement.”