great day

As previously mentioned, I had myself a big time at the padre game last weekend with none other than my surrogate blog mama, Pat. Beth's mom! She's a fan of the game, our newest San Diego transplant. When she invited me to join her for the day game just a week following my little mishap on Father's Day, I hesitated for only the slightest moment before recognizing that I need to get back on the horse. Besides, I figured if she wanted to toss me over the rows in front of these seats

someone handsome would surely catch me.

I was so excited to be so close, to really feel like a part of the action on the field.

I was riveted by the comings and goings of those lovely, fit boys.

I droned on and on to Pat about which one was my favorite, and she reasoned with stats and talent and logic until I explained that favorite, in my book, was mostly judged by physical appearance.

Case in point: Chase Headly

It's almost easier to admire them from afar, for they all look so handsome in their shiny white pants and athletic dispositions.

No, no, no, no.. keep your hat on honey.

unclean whites are pretty appealing in their own right

I loved being right up there, watching the action just outside the dugout, loved the body language and swagger of the next-at-bat  

loved the jogging in and out, the forgetting of sunglasses

the random people who come to stand around in between half innings

hey look.. up there where it says Toyota? that's where I fell spectacularly last Sunday

what are these guys talking about? are they talking?

Candlesticks always make a nice gift

It was a really lovely day at the ballpark. Thank you, Pat! Did you get to the night game this week?

On our way home, we were lured in to a bar near the trolley station for one last beer. At the point we decided that we'd hop on the next trolley that arrived, Pat was almost done with her beer. And then there was the train. We agreed that no one would notice or care that she still had her beer in hand. Pat knew no one would dare confront her because people are shy of senior. In fact, we sat ourselves in the senior seating area of the rig. 

In all my years riding the San Diego trolley, I can't remember a single time that I've been asked to produce a ticket. I could not imagine a scenario where any sort of authority figure would notice or address the fact that we even existed, let alone confront my companion with her dregs of a bud light on ice. 

And they didn't. The guy on the right in this photo, however, did spend about 10 minutes telling Pat in great detail about all the ways she could access public transportation to get from hither to yon in urban San Diego. All the while she was clutching her beer inside her bag, certain that the big guy would pounce.

Great day.