An important part of the wedding happened during the rehearsal dinner. I was sitting at a table with someone’s family, from out of town. They were interested in the baseball scores and I was too. Fortunately I have phone application that tells you about baseball scores. So I had that and we were looking at it. And then there was a delay in the game, and we did not know why. And I said, “I will check Twitter.” And they did not say anything because what I had said, out loud, was a weird thing to say. Regardless I went to Twitter and I looked at the list I have made, of baseball writers, and I tried to figure out what was happening based on all of the jokes they were making. They were making so many jokes! It was hard to tell what the facts were. I started to repeat things that I was reading. And slowly we put it together, slowly, sort of. The application with the baseball scores was useless, because it is for scores, and for pitch locations, and not for explanations of controversies. So slowly, sort of. And the game resumed and we had more wine and on we went. And on, until some day in the future, when we have only Twitter, and applications, and jokes, and not nearly enough wine at all.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ I so feel you. Two nights (mornings? I’m getting so confused) ago, I watched the Reds-Giants game on the pitch-by-pitch and it was the most soulless experience ever experienced in baseball. I need to know: was Arroyo’s hair straightened, or his natural wavy? Was Bruce picking at the leather ties on his glove while he waited for Arroyo’s pitch? Which way were Dusty Baker’s arms folded under his chin: right over left, or left over right? What was the weather like: was the breeze off the bay the kind that tickles the back of your neck, or the kind that messes up your hair? If they report the coach visiting the mound, why not the rest of the story?