[Programming note: I've needed to write something not drenched in photography technobabble. So here's this.]
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| Catching a game at Busch Stadium in 2007 in our... younger days |
I played Little League terribly for two years [
not coincidentally, it was after this that my parents took me to an optometrist for the first time]. And though I was briefly obsessed with baseball in the way kids do over the things in which they're involved, I quickly moved on to other more or less absorbing activities and interests. My upbringing in Alabama, where Football is King, insured that baseball became an afterthought.
Fast-forward to
May 9, 2005, at Busch Stadium ("Busch II") in St. Louis, where my best friend and roommate,
Adam, had dragged me. I tagged along to hang out, not to pay attention to one insignificant game in an excruciating 162-game season hosted by a team I knew little about. Having abandoned baseball in elementary school, I came to the ballpark that day a sports fan with allegiances to no team. (In retrospect, I was ripe for the picking.)
