Sunday Afternoon at the Park

I enjoy people watching. I could easily sit on a park bench for hours just observing humanity as it passes me by. A great place to people watch is at a ball park, and yesterday hubby and I spent the afternoon at a baseball game and I relished being not only entertained by the game, but also by those attending the game.

I think that at a baseball game you see the true face of America. Every race, color and creed (I'm assuming) were represented. Old and young alike turn out for a baseball game and in my observations I noticed how the generations have changed.

You aren't likely to see many men with white hair sporting an earring; however, to the front and on both sides of where we were sitting there were men most likely in their late teens and twenties adorned with earrings, some in one ear, some in both, some were flashy and others were just there.

There was the occasional older male with a tattoo, generally bluish in color prominently displayed on the forearm. On the other hand, younger males' tattoos seemed to encompass their entire arms and were very ornate and brightly colored. There were a lot of bald younger men, who seemed to have shaved their heads. While I noted that the older, naturally balding men were still doing that quite unnatural "wrap the hair around the head thing" to try and hide the bald spot - quite frankly, not such a good idea. Both the old and young men seemed to enjoy wearing a shirt with their favorite player's name emblazoned on the back, I'm guessing that shows how much of a true fan you are.

Women also expressed themselves as fans as many wore pink baseball caps with the team's logo, and there was an older woman seated just down the row from us who had baseballs as earrings dangling from her lobes. A lot of the younger women at the game had a tattoo across the small of their backs, and now while their skin is young and firm and not having been stretched by carrying a child, the winged dove is recognizable. I am guessing perhaps in 10-15 years, after the child bearing years and entering the menopausal ones, that dove is going to resemble some prehistoric bird similar to a pterodactyl.

Kids at a ballpark look like kids. They all come in with a baseball glove in hopes of catching a foul ball. There were 2 little ones near us and every time there was a foul ball whether it went to their left or right they both put up their gloves in anticipation, they were ready.

Another thing I noticed is that in addition to coming to the ballpark to watch the game, people really enjoy coming to the ballpark to eat and drink. To the annoyance of nearly everyone, people pardoned me themselves down a row at least 2 or 3 times during the game, returning with hands full of beers, french fries, hot dogs, nachos or ice cream served in little plastic baseball helmets. There is something for everyone. In fact, in order to get to your seat you have to walk past the concession stands and who can abstain from something as mouth watering as fried dough, or a giant sized hot pretzel with mustard?

Beer. There are lots of concession stands for beer, and there seems to be a never ending line in front of them. One delightful surprise was that this ballpark also served wine, enjoyable. There were lots of bottles to choose from. I found it difficult to choose which one would go best with my hot dog, packaged cotton candy and fried dough. I'm really not sure if the aforementioned requires a white or a red.

Yup, a ballgame has it all, a great game, great people watching, great food and now wine. Who could ask for a better way to spend a Sunday afternoon in the summer?