When it Rains in Kansas City

Five and a half hours of sleep later. Even if it was short, I slept straight through it. And in case anyone wanted to know, yes, Rose slept in the bathtub.

So while Mom and Grandma breakfasted at iHop – took the wrong direction going to and from – we girls packed up and lounged (breakfast tends to not do so well with Snicketts girls).

Anyway, the forecast was calling for 80% chance of thunderstorms. This was our kind of weather.

Took in a little batting practice in the sun, standing in the shade another hour, hoping for rain. Maybe someone was doing a rain dance somewhere, because what we didn’t expect came about 90 minutes later. Now, I freely confess I’m all for a good deluge. But what we couldn’t believe was what they allowed next.

“You can tell David’s a St. Louis boy,” Carrie had just told me. “Always looking up at the sky to check the weather.”

Or to pick at something on his finger most of the game. Sometimes he gets a little distracted.

Anyway, minutes later, we were sitting in a complete rainstorm. But not just an ordinary downpour. This was a full-out thunderstorm: wind, crashing thunder, splitting lightening, yelling fans, apparently oblivious to the severe thunderstorm threat all around us. And they just kept playing. We started laughing. Of course we didn’t leave our seats. When they finally called for a rain delay, we were soaked to the bone and “freesing,” as Carrie liked to say. Three hours huddled in the main concourse with a basket of chicken tenders and fries to split.

People like to chat during rain delays, especially because we were Cards fans. Worked on clarifying some St. Louis stereotypes, educated them on a little St. Louis history, Cards players, etc. For example, the African American Kauffman Stadium employee…

“You girls from The Lou? You nice, man! Everyone I met from St. Louis is (expletive) mean. Last time I was in St. Louis, I was at a bar and almost got (expletive) shot!”

Wha? This didn’t sound right. So we had to ask, “What part of St. Louis did you visit?”

“The east side.”

“Ohhhhh. No, no, no.”

Set him straight. East St. Louis is not St. Louis. Once we clarified that, we resumed our seats.

And watched a win. The best part came right at the end. David – star of the game for his three RBIs – was escorted yards in front of us for his post-game interview. Carrie got a front row view of our St. Louis boy.

“I can’t believe there weren’t other girls shoving me out of the way,” she said later as we walked half a mile or more back to the car.

Rose flew us back to STL, car and passengers fueled on Phillips 66 fare, just behind the rain.