For my dad's 63rd birthday we went to a Whitecaps game. We had the special opportunity to watch Detroit Tiger's center fielder Curtis Granderson play. He joined the Cap's roster for a few days while rehabilitating a broken hand. He's a class act, and seemed to enjoy the more inter-active nature of a minor league game. He did not disappoint on the field either, hitting a triple down the first base line.
Unlike Mr. Granderson, I'm a little more Scrooge-ish. Between innings they tried to get the fans to chicken dance. This may have been fun for the kids and for the guys behind us who had put down a few beers, but I was not in the dancing mood. The Whitecaps mascot came to our row and one-by-one made people stand up and join the dance. Then he came against my immovable will. Not the coaxing of the oversize stuffed animal, nor the jeers of the stadium behind me would make me get out of my seat and chicken dance. Finally the mascot turned around, shook his behind in my face, and walked away. Ah, minor league baseball...is there anything better?
1 comment:
I literally laughed out loud when I read the chicken dance part.
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