Met vs. Twins

So yesterday I went with my Mother and my Father to see a Mets/Twins game for my Father's Father's Day present.

I mainly have two stories to tell, with a lesson I learned from each.

Number 1: Jim Thome is a jerk.

We walked around the beautiful stadium, so nice, and then we went to watch the Twins batting practice. Well, you know this is when you want to win a ball, and maybe talk to a player or two. So my parents and I found a spot were no one was near Jim Thome! (Who's about to pass Harmon Killebrew in home runs ((my Father's all-time favorite player))). So this adorable little kid next to us is shouting "Good luck, Mr. Thome!" "Have fun today, Mr. Thome!" "Good luck Mr. Thome!" "You're awesome Mr. Thome!" "Good luck Mr. Thome!". Now this kid was about 7 or 8 and he was SO CUTE. His father just looked so proud and it was a great thing. Jim Thome did not look at the kid once. I mean you KNOW he heard him. But no, apparently he has to "run" (which was practically walking) 10 paces then walk back. Because that's OH SO MUCH effort and it'll get him prepared. But no, he just avoided eye contact with the kid. And then a ball comes to left field and Jim Thome picks it up and the little kid is "Right here, Mr. Thome! Mr. Thome over here! Mr. Thome!" Jim Thome then looks at the kid, and walks the other way and gives it to a group of girls. OKAY! HOLD UP! My Father and I are calling "Jim Thome! Over here, the kid in the yellow shirt, JIM! JIM! THE KID IN THE YELLOW SHIRT! JIM THOME! OVER HERE!" But nope, a group of 10 year old girls that probably were forced to come with their families get the ball. So that was disappointing and my hatred for him started to grow. THEN, he Dad calls out "Hey Jim Thome! How many more hits until you've passed Killebrew?" And Jim Thome looks into the stands, probably at us, glares, and goes back to his "running warm-up". I hope that little kid isn't scarred for life.

Number 2: Lying can get you places.

My Dad wore a Bert Blyleven jersey because he was the commentator. I guess my Dad met Bert about 10 years ago at a Yankee game with my brother and he wanted to again. So.... we decided to go on an adventure. My Mom stayed back and Dad and I went to find Bert. We went to a really nice section that looked near the commentators box so we tried to get in. My Dad explained to the guy checking tickets that Bert was an old friend and he just wanted to say hi. The guy told him "Just text Bert and he'll come out to meet you" my Dad said that wasn't possible but he just wanted a high five and if Bert saw him he'd recognize him. The man at the door told us to talk to a supervisor in a maroon shirt. Only, we couldn't find any. So we traveled some more and found huge industrial doors. We then we entered into this HUGE hallway that was air conditioned and wonderfully wonderful. These men stopped us though and asked us for tickets and stuff but my Dad explained he was just trying to see Bert again, and the men said to text him and he'd come down. So at this point I'm trying not to laugh because EVERYONE is telling my Father to "Text his good buddy Bert" and my Father is playing along with it. But then this man in a suit comes behind my Dad and is breathing on his neck. He stands next to me and looks and me and I nervously whisper that I'm with "him" *points to dad* and the guy opens his jacket and I am scared out of my mind so I look away and try not to panic. Then my Father and I leave, and the man in the suit is inches from us watching us walk out. I then told my Dad how freaking scared I was and asked if he felt the guy breathing down his next, which he did. Then we went back up to the first place and we saw a guy in maroon! But before we talked to him my Dad found a setting on his phone called "Airplane mode" that takes away your service so if someone once again tells my Father to "text" BERT FREAKIN' BLYLEVEN he would say he has no service. Instead the man tells us, "sure, follow me" and he TAKES US to the commentators box, through the VIP section of the stadium with nice bars and restaurants and air conditioning and we're being escorted through it all, probably looking like we got in trouble. But he takes us to the outside of the commentators box and the walls are so high we can barley see in. Now, I have no idea what Bert looks like so my Dad is on his tippy toes looking and saying to the guy "Just if he sees me he'll know" and in the mean time he's whispering to me "got the camera ready?" and giving my a high-five. But sadly, we didn't see him. And the security guy said he was sorry, and he lead us back through the VIP area and we went back to our seats, but we have a wonderful story to tell people from now on.

My Dad has about 5 more stories like that, where he actually sneaks into places he isn't supposed to be and no one realizes. Like once at the old Yankee stadium and at this cooking show he got into the kitchen and sampled food. Yeah. It was wonderful and I had a blast.

It was a horrible game. The second pitch of the game the Twins score a home run and my Father is on cloud 9, the only guy in our section standing up and cheering at the top of his lungs. Then the game was downhill from that. So many errors, so horrible.

Also the guy behind us was ANDREW. IT WAS ANDREW. Not the look but EVERYTHING HE SAID. EVERY JOKE HE MADE. HOW MUCH HE TALKED. IT WAS ANDREW!

So, that's all.