So, I was at a Blue Jay’s game the other night, and by “game” I mean I went to the last three innings, an inning long in my opinion, but baseball was never my thing. I learned at a young age as my dad was parading me around the Skydome (RIP) that Jay’s games are not about the baseball at all. If it was about baseball, the now Roger’s Center would look like Wrigley Field with no large screens, comfortable seats or even a jumbotron.
But this isn’t America.
I know the most amusement you will have at a baseball game is watching the jumbotron and simply people watching. Now, does everyone secretly want to be on the jumbotron or is that just me? The problem being, of course, commitment (which is a constant theme in my life, especially in relationships). But commitment to the jumbotron is something totally different. You must commit to your entire section watching you get up and “shake it” time after time until finally in the middle of a commercial break, in the bottom of the 7th, they throw your sorry ass up on the big screen only because ol’ Hank, who’s handling the camera, can’t stand to see you project your daddy issues of constant attention seeking for much longer. Sorry, sweetheart.
There are a few cases in which making it to the jumbotron isn’t quite that difficult. These situations include, but are not limited by the following….
– You are holding a small human, AKA a toddler or baby. This will actually become easier if you dress said toddler in the home team’s colours or jersey.
– You’re actually a toddler.
– You’re a rocket and have rocket friends surrounding you
-You’ve committed to more than just the jumbotron and have painted your entire body with the team logo in the middle of your six pack (you’re not taking off your shirt if you don’t have abs, right?)
– You are over the age of 60 and with your significant other. Nothing sports fans love more than a love built on the foundation of love of a team. True love squared.
-You’re wearing a colourful wig.
For the rest of us, the proletariat in this case, struggle to make it onto the jumbotron, these select individuals should technically start charging for all the airtime they get on that screen.
So, next time you’re at a baseball game you’re going to have to commit. There will be no room for mediocre dancing and a half assed salsa in the aisle whenever a Hispanic player comes to bat (every other?). No, next time you have to stand up and commit to making it on the jumbotron… or steal a baby.
Claire McArthur 