PLAY BALL!

Jeff's spring training trip

Fri., March 17

11:30 a.m. -- Arrived in Dunedin, Fla., a suburb of Tampa-St. Petersburg, to see the Toronto Blue Jays take on the Tampa Bay Devil Rays.

It figures, the teams I could care the least about and I have the best seats of my trip in the fifth row between home plate and the Tampa Bay dugout on the first base side.

Since I got to the stadium so early, I ate lunch at my seat. I hate eating at sporting events at my seat because I'm always on the verge of spilling my beverage or hot dog and fries all over the place. This would be a source of intense embarrassment, and I always want to be in control of every situation. This would be related to my absolute fear of making an ass of myself. Of course, I write this, then turn on the radio and hear people crying into drive-thru speakers just to win concert tickets. I can't even listen to people acting like this, let alone do it. Every bone in my body says to be normal and blend in with others.

1:05 p.m. -- Game time with the biggest crowd I've seen yet, a packed house of 6,000 fans. This wasn't surprising, since the hometown Tampa Bay Devil Rays were playing and so local fans need only drive down the street to see how bad they're going to suffer this season.

	My best view yet. And I don't care about the teams. Go figure.

Dunedin Stadium is the spring training home of the Blue Jays, though, so there were plenty of Canadians in attendance who were enjoying the Florida warmth. The announcer made sure they were reminded of this, telling the crowd that the weather in Toronto was dreadful as usual in winter, with temperatures between -3 and -6 degrees Celsius, with a lot of snow falling. Also, when the Canadian national anthem was played, an awful lot of people knew the words, as opposed to when it's played anywhere else at a sporting event and Americans stand there in silence, staring at our watches.

Before the game I talked with a nice senior citizen from New York, one of those aforementioned retirees who moved south. I enjoyed the talk, though, because he told me how Yankees owner George Steinbrenner is so hated by New Yorkers, yet loved in Florida (I'm always willing to hear bad things about the Yankees).

	I went through ten photos to get a shot like this, with the ball right at his bat in mid-swing.

The crowds at spring training are overwhelmingly from the north, as I don't think I heard any accent south of the Mason-Dixon line while I was in Florida, except for a few at the Braves-Royals game. I don't even consider the state to be part of the South. Maybe geographically, but not culturally.

Speaking of crowds, there is none better in sports than baseball. The people are there to sit back and relax, drink beers and eat great hot dogs. Baseball fans feel closer to the game, cheering and booing those in the crowd lunging for foul balls, where fathers can teach sons (and even daughters nowadays) how to keep score, and people can chitchat without having to yell at each other as annoying loud music blares overhead.

3:30 p.m. -- Game over, Toronto wins, 8-1, and I'm on my way home. It would have been a half-hour quicker if not for Tampa traffic, which is a nightmare.

	The sun sets over North Florida and my vacation.

6 p.m. -- Stopped for a break at a Rest Area before Gainesville. I did a good deed there, stopping a pair of non-English speaking Hispanic men who were headed for the women's restroom until I yelled at them to stop and pointed them in the correct direction of where they might find urinals instead of feminine napkins. Although if I had waited five seconds, it would have been fun to hear the women when these guys walked in.

9:30 p.m. -- The Krystal Incident: I don't ask for much in life, but one of the most important is for fast-food workers to get my order correct in the drive-thru. Less than two hours from home, in Macon, I stopped to stretch my legs and pick up some dinner. Being on a diet, I rarely ever eat fast food anymore. But I was hungry, and desired five Krystals and a large french fries. The cashier repeated my order and was very sweet, so I didn't check the bag before pulling away. BAD IDEA. When I'm on the Interstate, I reach into the bag, eat a burger, reach for a fry.....WHAT! No fries! Aaaarrrgggghhhhh!!!! Literally, I let out a primal scream. I was mad, and just wanted to get home as quick as possible. If not for the extra grab bag of Doritos in the backseat, I might have died.

Adding to my pain, if radio talk show maven Delilah plays Bette Midler's "Wind Beneath My Wings" one more time, I'll...well, I can't back up any threats, so I'll just throw my arms up in disgust and turn the dial again. That must be the most overplayed song in radio history.

Total Miles Traveled: 1,106 $ In Gas Spent: 118.05 Gas Mileage: 20 miles per gallon

11:10 p.m. -- Home! At last! Next year, I take a plane and rent a car. Driving eight hours no longer has an appeal for me, especially if I have to sell a kidney to afford gas.

Not that I didn't have fun. All in all, it was a great experience that I want to do again. I saw some good games, great plays, bad plays, careers born, careers killed, avoided the rain and ate good food.

Baseball season begins next week!