It’s unavoidable: You live 10 minutes from a spring-training stadium, you have to try to see a game.
Now, I’m not going to say I love the Marlins. They’ve torn apart their team so many times, it’s impossible for me to become attached. But working for a daily news organization, you end up keeping up with the local boys.
For the most part, it was a first rate experience. Roger Dean Stadium is superb — we’ve been going for years, and having toured various MLB training sites, I’d say the Marlins (and the Cardinals, whom they share the place with) have it pretty good.
We enjoyed the signature food of the RDS, the Dean Dog. (Basically it’s a foot-long dog with onions and red and yellow peppers. But it is so tasty.)
We had great seats, behind home plate. And we got to see one of the Braves’ big prospects, Tommy Hanson, pitch. (I’m almost ready to say he’s good enough that we’d look back on this day and say, “Hey! We say that guy pitch when no one knew who he was!”)
But seriously, who stuck us in the section with the Real Housewives of Palm Beach County?
I’ve never seen more botoxed, fake-boobed, big-haired, attitude-havin’, third-husband-searching women in one place at one time.
It came to my attention truly when the guys sitting next to us — and it was really one dude in particular — started yellin’ when one of the Marlins’ pitchers was getting hit pretty hard. I expect fans to act like that — this guy was trying to be the section’s comedian. There’s one in every crowd. You either laugh, or ignore.
But one bottled-blonde turned around and shot him this icy look — which I could sense even through her mirrored cop shades. And it began to hit me exactly how many of these women were around us…
Did you ALL win tickets at TGI Fridays?
Mind you, that was the lone incident of the game. And as we suspected, we had plenty more in common with the fellas next to us than any of these ladiezzzz.
And don’t get me started with the family who brought their pretty-pretty-princess daughter along. Why?