Railcats

I'm going to ignore whatever terrible thing is going on with the Cubs at the moment (okay, just briefly: PLEASE START HITTING, GUYS. JESUS WANTS YOU TO) and instead talk about the minor-league game I went to this weekend. As I mentioned before, the teams in question were the Schaumburg Flyers vs. - prepare yourself for this - the Gary South Shore (or possibly South Side) Railcats. With a name like that, it was hard to know who to root for. Gary's pitcher really seemed very good; if I can remember his name, I wouldn't be surprised to see him in somebody's bullpen in a few years.

All of these players were young, maybe about eight or so. Also, we were sitting right behind home plate, near the visitors' dugout, so they were warming up right in front of us, and my family quickly noticed that all the players had holes in the back of their pants. Now, I'm positive that everybody who reads this blog knows I have a mother-hen complex about baseball players, so you can tell I really didn't need to have my heartstrings further tugged by that. I desperately wanted to adopt the entire team, but my room is tiny and I'm already pretty sure that Ronny Cedeno and Mike Fontenot need adopting, so I don't know where all these people are going to sleep.

Am I concerning myself over this to avoid my reading on "Earliest Fundamental Theology" that's due in the near future? You be the judge, but I tend to believe I'd be obsessing over becoming a baseball seamstress/foster mom even if I had nothing else to do.