Disgust

Let me say off the bat that I had a blast at the Dome today. The mascot game was wonderful, and I will be posting with pictures and videos soon. The ball game was fantastic, with 15 hits and 13 runs scored by our local 9. A fantastic Sunday afternoon for sure.

However, I am a big ball of rage and self-loathing right now. The second batter in the top of the first inning hit a beautiful line drive foul ball that stayed up and level and came right for my seats. I saw it right off of the bat, I knew it would get to us immediately. It should have been perfect, a dream come true.

I left my glove in my car.

Following the only instincts I had, knowing the ball untouched would land on the ground of the row in front of me, I took of my hat and held it out to give myself the extra few inches of reach I needed to catch the ball cleanly. I had a read on it, my hat was there and ready.

The man in front of me to my left got his hand in and grazed it just enough to send the ball up the brim of my cap and over my right shoulder before I could react. I completely biffed it. I turned, thinking I could recover if it stayed in my row, and I see the ball hit my mother in the left arm and fall to the ground. Before I can kick save the ball from rolling back down to the row in front of me it is gone, and I had lost my chance.

I could easily blame the numb-nuts in front of my for misdirecting my certain catch, but I won't do it. I should have had my glove there. I should have been calling the ball. I should have just bare-handed it rather than deferring to the unsure equipment of my hat. I should have at least kick saved it. This was all my fault and I fucked it up.

I am trying not to be too devastated as I already have caught a live foul ball in my lifetime. I should not expect to be so lucky twice. I just really wanted a souvenir like that to go with my first season as a season ticket holder. I am such a sieve.

Once I recover from this a little further I'll recap the mascot game (a thriller!) and the ball game in general (Joe Mauer = dead weight). Until then I will wallow in my own inadequacy.