baseball night in america

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on saturday night, ten friends went to a padres game. we road the coaster down to the park with a few hundred thousand of our closest friends -apparently the train is a highly utilized means of transportation come game day (i think the fact that you can openly consume booze before 9 p.m. has something to do with it). very concerned that we’d make it in time to get our complimentary 80’s throw-back jerseys, we walked at a brisk pace from the santa fe depot to 19 tony gwynn way. luckily, we made it to the northeast entrance with plenty of time and were gifted over-sized brown and yellow jerseys of players who had played on the 1984 team (the entire weekend was celebrating 30 years of the padres franchise). i got #31, previously worn by ed whitson, who, after Google informed me of such, was a pitcher for the san diego team. yeah, i didn’t know who he was either. sorry ed!

we ate hot dogs and sunflower seeds, photobombed selfies, broke into a spontaneous dance party after the 4th inning field-raking and sang along to “take me out to the ball game” during the 7th inning stretch. we even channeled our inner maverick and goose when the jumbotron requested our accompaniment to top gun’s iconic bar scene serenade of “you’ve lost that lovin’ feeling,” which is something they now do in the 8th inning when the pads are behind (something tells me our fans’ karaoke skills will be very on point by the end of september). despite the fact that the cubs took home the W that evening, it was undoubtedly a saturday night well spent.

the ladies.

the ladies.

perfect night at petco.

perfect night at petco.

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