Though I have largely kicked the San Francisco habit of bringing a layer since it is always 95 everywhere all the time I had a feeling it would be chilly in there, so I brought a sweater. What I should have brought instead was my cowboy boots, hat and shirt because that's what everyone else brought. It was Country Night at the ballpark.
There were many ways that Country Night was celebrated. They handed out blue Rays-branded cowbells to something like the first 10,000 people who entered the stadium and people were not shy about ringing them. Every time a Ray got a hit or made a good catch it was like a huge herd of cows suddenly startled and took off running, cow bells clanging like crazy. The kid next to me didn't even wait for anything to happen - he just rang it constantly until the woman in front of us turned around and asked him nicely but quite firmly to "take it easy" with the cowbell. The poor kid didn't ring it again the whole game.
More country-ness: Jeff Foxworthy on video opened up the game with a bit on "You might be a Rays fan if..." which reminded me that there are more people that you think who are able to turn one not very clever idea into a lifelong career as a performer.
Even more country-ness: after the game they held a free live country music concert on the field. The performer was Miranda something who was a participant on Nashville Star.
The game was memorable in other ways, too. After the fourth inning Eric and I went to get some food. I ordered the "Heater" which is a chili-cheese hot dog.
"Whoa!" exclaimed the woman taking our order. "You want that baby to come tonight?" She seemed genuinely concerned and/or horrified, but I stuck with my order. I think I just liked the name.
Eric, no fool, quickly determined that the large beer, which was 20 oz for $9, was a worse deal than two regular beers, which were 12 oz for $5 each. I didn't think I cared one way or the other which one he got until it became clear that I was going to have to sherpa the second beer up the 30 steps to our very last row seats past many, many disapproving country folk. Before we even got half-way up Eric started calling out to no one in particular "It's mine! She's carrying it for me!" and presumably people knew he meant both the beer and the baby. But they still gave me the stinkiest of the stink eye and shook their cowbells disapprovingly in my direction.
As for the baseball itself, there were actually a few remarkable plays all of which involved players not catching balls that they had no excuse to miss. My personal theory: as they looked up to follow the ball they got so distracted by the fact that there was a ceiling over their heads (and a racket of cowbells in their ears) that they thought they must be dreaming and completely forgot about the ball until it dropped to the astro-turf in their general vicinity. It was just bizarre.
I can't wait to go see a hockey game.
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