Something We Will NOT Be Doing

I'm probably the only person who
ever played outfield sitting down

Nancy and I are flying to Chicago this morning.  When my pal Jamie Iredell heard this, he suggested we could take in a ballgame, I gave him a blank stare as if he'd just said, "Say, maybe you could watch some paint dry.  I understand there's a lot of fresh paint in Chicago."

I never cared for sports.  When I was a kid, they always made me play outfield.  None of the batters could hit a ball that far, which suited me fine.  I may have been the only person in history who played outfield sitting down.  There was usually a lot of interesting activity going on in the weeds if you knew where to look.  Other kids fantasized about being good at sports.  Not me.  When I was out there, I fantasized about French class.  I sucked at French.  I liked to imagine I'd been born in France, that I was a little French kid.  Then French would have been a snap!  And as a bonus, I wouldn't have to play baseball.  I mean, it was nice sitting out in a field with no one bothering me, and all, but you weren't allowed to leave.  Not even if you had to oui oui.

Later, in Athens, Georgia, I got another big dose of sports.  Nancy and I were there the same time as Herschel Walker:, who ran two hundred yards four times in one season, leading the Bulldogs to an undefeated championship year.  Before you get too impressed with my command of that statistic, I looked it up on the internet.  Frankly, it doesn't sound that impressive.  Two hundred yards times four is still less than half a mile.  And it took a whole season to run it.  Of course, he was running through halfbacks or quarterbacks or three-quarterbacks to do it, which I guess makes it harder.

You might think my time in Athens would make me a sports fanatic, but no.  When there was a home game, Nancy and I would hole up in our little apartment and make margaritas.  You see, Athens was quite scary when all the drunk alumni showed up.  I don't know if they were drunk all the time, but they were certainly drunk when they got to Athens.  The situation was not improved by the fact that in Athens, whenever a road needed a new lane, they just painted an additional stripe.  So no, being in Athens did not make me a big sports fan.  I did, however, become very fond of margaritas.

So to sum up, we will not be visiting Wriggly Field when we go to Chicago.  Nor we will be taking any French classes.  We may possibly get some margaritas.  And watch some drying paint.  I understand there's some very interesting fresh paint in Chicago.