Diary of a circus girl

I've been to the past two games at Coors Field. Statistically? They've sucked. Thousands of runners stranded, no pitching, bad defense, etc, etc. Shutout for 18 innings in a row at Coors. Ew.
But now you ask, have I had fun in these games? The answer, surprisingly enough, is a resounding 'YES!' I will add in deep and meaningful thoughts on the why of this in a minute. First...the highlights.

The first game, I got five autographs. Huston, Chavvy, Barry, Ellis, and Swish. They are all extremely cute and I had a nice little chat with Zito about the effects of high altitude. That was amazing. It was really, really cool to actually meet them in person and I think I was having an excitement overload. I mostly just stood there and worshipped. The first game really has nothing to say for it except that I somehow managed to enjoy myself thoroughly and I loved watching Danny pitch, and rooted so hard that someone thought I was his sister.

Anyway. Nobody was signing tonight except Swish, Kielty, and Halsey (I got the two latter). I thought this was very annoying, and I really wanted Hareball's autograph. I tried calling him over (I called him Danny, though), but he wasn't interested at the moment. Maybe tomorrow. However, I got a picture with Swish. I also gave him a card I had - I got this idea the night before. The card said "Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars." I wrote a fairly long, rambling, message inside (if you want to see it I can add it). It was for the whole team, and hopefully Swish showed it to some of the guys.

The second game was also somewhat forgettable in stats, but I was having a great time. Why?

I think the reason I was able to have a good time is because I don't base my happiness on who contributes, who doesn't, who wins, who loses. The "goat" of the game I can forgive instantly. I base my happiness on the beauty of the game. The way it looks, sounds, smells. The way it's played. The moments of perfect stillness punctuated by bursts of activity. The tense suspension just before the pitch is thrown. The batting music. The crowds. What happened in the game? I don't know. I was too busy watching and reveling in the game of baseball itself. What just happened? I don't know, but that pitch was gracefulness embodied in a physical form. I'm in love with baseball, and I'm in love with the A's. Put it together, and I can't not enjoy myself. I'm watching the A's play baseball, and that's just fine with me.

Tomorrow I'll be down there looking for Hareball's autograph, maybe Crosby if I'm lucky. Tomorrow I'll be watching and watching and drinking up the sight, hoping store it in my memory forever. Watching the A's play live. Tomorrow I'll be rooting just as hard, and tomorrow I can promise that, no matter what happens, I will be satisfied.

The ending of the card I gave the team said this; "Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, the stars are waiting. And I'll be watching the rocket trails and rooting for a smooth landing when you get there."

-circus girl

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