Date Night

After 34 years of marriage, Hubby and I discovered we both love baseball.

I grew up watching the Pittsburgh Pirates on television and listening to the games, announced by the legendary Bob Prince, on radio. I had an uncle who was a rabid fan. My dad just loved the game. I celebrated the team led by Willie Stargell. I marveled at Kent Tekulve's arm. I mourned the loss of a true hero, Roberto Clemente. We claimed the song We Are Family as our own.

But that was well before I met my husband, who has his own tales of attending games at the long-gone Forbes Field as a small child.

Last night, we went on a date night to our little minor league franchise's ball field to watch the Washington Wild Things.

Meet The Wild Thing:

It was a hoot! There were foot races between a doughnut, an iced latte, and a cup of coffee. Another foot race involved the team mascot and a small boy. The boy won. A couple of kids competed in a hula-hoop contest. We all sang Take Me Out to the Ballgame during the seventh inning stretch.

We sat along the third base line where I fully expected to get beaned by a foul ball. (I didn't.) And our team won 4-0.

It would have been fun even if we hadn't impressed each other with our knowledge of the game. ("How do you know that?") Perhaps we have a new regular date night destination.


And let me also add a plug directed at anyone who enjoys audio books--BRIDGES BURNED is now available for your listening pleasure! Check it out here.

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