13 : 229 : 9 : 2
The boys were back in the pool for a second day in the heat of another August afternoon. This time, Yali sipped in dregs of hose water as the pool continued to fill. Didn’t hurt any of us kids growing up; I guess it won’t hurt him.
After Francis swaddled him in a towel about an hour later, they watched videos of bridges and buildings being demolished.
Game thirteen was a game best left remembered only by the obnoxious family sitting one row behind us all nine innings, mostly because of their climactic ending in the bottom of the ninth.
It had been advertised as a great series to attend because of the $6 tickets sponsored by Famous Footwear. So we bought a set: Mom, Carrie-Bri, Rose, and myself. About as soon as we took our seats, arriving late after some absurd levels of traffic leading into the city – “We cannot become the next Atlanta,” Carrie said emphatically as we finally crawled onto 40 from 270 – we knew there had been some mistake.
The family behind us consisting of an extraordinarily young “MeeMaw” and her offspring should never have been allowed in the stadium. Between their two screaming, spoiled kids and their obnoxious parents occasionally screaming expletives to the Pirates right fielder, we could hardly hear the game half the time.
After the kids had kicked all of us in the shoulders, neck, head, tossed phones and baseballs on Mom and Carrie – with the MeeMaw making comments like, “Oh, Annamae, she just cracks me up!” – their Dad decided to embarrass themselves further by screaming – not once, but twice – into the outfield:
“HEY MCCUTCHEON! YESTERDAY CALLED, AND IT WANTS ITS DREADLOCKS BACK!”
Carrie rolled her eyes. “Cheap seats – never again.”
But justice was still sweet. We weren’t the only ones who’d had enough. Apparently the party above their row also decided to end things. Their own way.
SPLASH!
Beer sloshed down on MeeMaw & Brats. Her drunk sons would have started throwing ineffective punches, no doubt, had a few vertical feet and a railing not separated them from the offenders. As strings of f-bombs laced the air, we ignored them as the Cards wrapped up a 10-5 loss.
“I was afraid we were going to have an all-out hick fight,” Rose said on the drive back.
“Good thing they didn’t,” Carrie noted. “If that MeeMaw had fallen on me, I would have been done for.”