Wow. Thanks to my good friend, Mr. Zambrano, I am getting the full LA sports experience this week. I am so glad to be his little buddy. I hadn’t been to a Dodger game in at least 10 years. It was as I remembered it: fantastic grilled Dodger Dog, mammoth bag of salty peanuts, good conversations with friends, and a pitchers duel. Is there any sport that is more food-centric? The Dodgers won the game 1-0 and it was pretty great despite the unseasonable sprinkling of rain. During the seventh inning stretch with my arms locked around some perfectly nice strangers singing Take Me Out to the Ball Game in an undetermined key, I was left thinking about some weird-nesses about the tradition of MLB baseball and sports as whole. First of all, the pitcher gets to come out and “warm up” before every inning. So I’m thinking tonight at the game Kobe should be able to practice some shots when they switch to offense, get his form, and then casually waive to the ref in an “OK, I’ve got my form locked down, let’s do this!” And Tiger Woods should get to hit a few balls off every Tee Box until he’s worked out his swing and then, “Right-o, I am good! A-game intact.” Why not? Another strange thing is the coach/manager of the team dressing in the classic, yet silly, baseball uniform. Joe Torre is 69 years old. Why does he wear the cleats, cap and uniform? When I watch the Lakers game tonight, I would be profoundly moved if Phil, Kurt, and Shaw were wearing Lakers purple and gold, knee high socks, and a pair of Chuck Taylors. That would be sweet.
I am still trying to figure what to wear to my open house this Sunday. But then I guess a realtor has as good a uniform as any: button-down shirt, khakis, and loafers. I’ll just wear the tube socks underneath.