I Can Never Go to a Baseball Game Again

Though I love to write about basketball, the sport I love most is baseball. It's magic! There's the pop of a 93 mph pitch going into a catcher's mitt. The c-r-r-a-c-c-k-k of a wood bat when it hits a tightly wrapped baseball just right. The cool breeze of a September night. The joy on a child's face when he or she snags a foul ball. It's a game that gives a glimpse into the mystery of life itself, although the baseball gods only let you see so much.

On Sunday and again last night, as the Phillies' season comes to an end, I was fortunate to be able to attend two of their games. After last night, I may never be able to go again.

On Sunday, I had great seats with the "Diamond Club," a few rows behind home plate. Preferred parking, too. It was simply amazing. But last night was even better. We had preferred parking, and our seats were front row, right behind home plate. Not only that. We also had a sit down meal at the stadium in which a waitress came out with menus and we ordered. I had an avocado stuffed with chorizo.

Yes, our party was on television, and some of my Facebook friends asked if that was really me.

It was.

I told them I was there to be signed but want more money.

There is no way I will ever be able to top the seats I had last night. But as one of my friends there observed, they all look pretty good.