I want you to come to my party. I really do. We have a great menu, there is going to be beer and there are going to be lots of fun and interesting people for you to talk to. One of these people is my good friend Lar from the incomparable wezen-ball. He is going to the party and he wants you to too. He was even nice enough to write this post for us, convincing you to go. He's really smart. You should listen to him.
I don’t know about you, but I’m one of those baseball fans who just has to be in my seat at first pitch. Even when I’m tailgating, if I have any control of when the group gets into the ballpark, I do everything I can to get everyone moving towards the stadium well before first pitch. If that means cooling the charcoal down at 12:30 and throwing the folding chairs in the trunk at 12:45, it’s what I’m going to do. There’s just a simple joy in being comfortably in your seat by the time the Brewers run onto the field. It beats racing up the ramp or impatiently riding the escalator to your seat any day of the week. I’m sure the fact that I like to keep score for all nine innings - and that I never leave a game early, for fear of missing out on the greatest comeback of all time - plays an important part in all that.
But the Pants Party is coming up in two weeks, and with all the excellent food that is being offered and the promise of fascinating, intelligent company - or, at the least, a group of people who like to drink, eat brats, watch Brewers baseball, and complain about Anthony Witrado - that first inning fetish is going to be tested. What happens if I’m on my third chorizo quesadilla with a side of drunken Polish mac’n’cheese and a cup of Riverwest Stein in my hand while chatting and I realize that the game is about to start? Or, even worse, I hear the fireworks going off signalling the start of the bottom of the first? Do I freak out, throw my brat and beer down on the ground and hightail it across the bridge over to Miller Park? Or do I instead try to practice the Midwestern version of zen baseball and just let it slide?
In order to help me ignore choice 1 and instead focus on choice B, I offer this list of why the first inning sucks and why we should all be okay with missing it. After all, if I’m missing that first inning, there’s no way you’re going to be able to tear yourself away from my fascinating conversation and hightail it over there yourself: Continue reading