Thinking Blue

Sweep, sweep, sweepity sweep! Thanks to my sister's incredibly thoughtful birthday present, I got to see the Dodgers play the Giants on Friday night. Hmmm...not sure if "play" is the verb I'm looking for here...maybe "OBLITERATE" is more appropriate?

I was a bit nervous about visiting AT&T Park for the first time; it is, after all, ENEMY TERRITORY, but we live closer to San Francisco than Los Angeles, so bravely we marched into the den of evil to cheer on our team. In the spirit of good sportswomanship, let me point out the positives...

The Park is really beautiful and very clean...


and has amazing views...


and really excellent food. I was particularly fond of the Gilroy Garlic Fries...



So it's really too bad that THE TEAM SUCKS! (Okay, good sportswomanship over.)

I had SUCH a good time and even managed to adopt a zen-like attitude towards the many nasty comments being flung our way throughout the park. Of course, it's easy to be zen-like when your team is winning. There were many other True Blue fans there that night, which made things a bit easier--power in numbers and all that--and, as the game went on and the Giants fans started skulking out, we got a little braver, a bit more bold--that is to say, a wee bit LOUDER. Which is probably why the nice Dodgers fans below us were getting peanuts thrown at them, and why what I initially thought to be the random patters of rain turned out to be spit.

Oh you nasty Giants fans...no amount of your bitter saliva can wash out the sweet smell of victory!

Here is what victory looks like from the nosebleed section:


I didn't bring Matilda with me. Although it is important to nurture her love for baseball, and I CANNOT WAIT to take her to her first game, I want that game to be in the hallowed hollows of Dodger Stadium, where she can yell "CHARGE!" and "Let's go Dodgers" and sing "We will rock you," none of which you get to do when your team is the visiting one. It made me sad to see all of those tiny little Giants fans, their innocent minds being warped, their tiny little bodies sporting number twenty-five because their parents aren't responsible enough to tell them that CHEATING IS WRONG. I will bring my daughter up in the light of goodness; I will teach her to Think Blue.

Because some things are, y'know, IMPORTANT.