So, as we all know, Saturday was AN Day V: Tailgate Edition. Having lived in Utah the last five years, school and work dominated my life, and I was only able to visit California during the holidays--when baseball had gone into hibernation. It's not often that I get to go to games; the last one I attended was the fireworks game five years earlier. I had never been able to attend AN Day in the past, so it was very special to get to go this year. I'll write more about AN Day in a bit.

In ten days, I take off for Japan. I won't be coming back for at least three years, and might end up staying even longer if things work out. I'm going to be living on a remote island (population 200) in the Seto inland sea, which is between the main lands of Honshu and Shikoku, about 2 hours by ferry from Hiroshima prefecture. Uoshima, my new home, has no high-speed internet. What I'm getting at is that I'm pretty sure I just watched my last A's game for the next 3+ years. It meant a lot to me to be able to share this memorable moment with both my family (there were eight of us at AN Day) and AN. 

I regret not being able to introduce myself to everybody. It was a little tough to settle in. When I first arrived at the tailgate party, I realized that Kelsey, my daughter, had completely saturated herself in pee. My wife had a change of clothes, but she was about an hour away from the ballpark. I had to drop everything and find my way to the official store so that I could purchase an A's onesie for Kelsey. When I got to the store, I found that there was no way in unless I showed my ticket. I was told that I wouldn't be able to exit and re-enter the park unless I bought another ticket. After spending five minutes trying to find someone that would understand my situation, I realized that I was losing valuable tailgating time, and just decided to give in and buy another ticket. They wouldn't let me exit through the entry gate, so I had to go up the long ramp to the second level and look for an exit ramp heading downward. Five minutes later, I found my way out and got in line at the ticket window for my $9 ticket from Hell.

With a new ticket in my pocket and a pink A's onesie in my hand, I stumbled hurriedly across the parking lot to our car, where pee-soaked Kelsey was sobbing uncontrollably. I changed her clothing, and then remembered that she hadn't eaten for a good while. I had my younger brother grab a rack of Paradox's fantastic ribs, which I tried to share with Kelsey. If there's one thing I learned through this ordeal, it's that you can't hold a toddler in your lap with one hand and eat ribs with the other. Ribs are pretty much a two-handed deal. When I neared the point of rib-induced meltdown, I had my family hold Kelsey (which wasn't easy, since she's not too familiar with them) while I got her some food that she could handle. When I tried to get something from out car, I set the alarm off. Yes. That was me.

From there, the rest of my eight family members started to trickle into the parking lot, and I had to exchange pleasantries and help them get situated. I would have loved to get to speak to more of you, but there just wasn't enough time. It was good to finally get to put names to faces, though. The grilling put on by Paradox and company was just incredible. Thanks to all who brought food and participated. Thanks to baseballgirl and all others who helped make this happen. It was great to get to exchange high-fives with McFood and Pam, and to hear Wes7 scream his head off. 

Now, for some pics my dad and I took: Kelsey after the clothing change: A bunch of people: Me and Paradox before the game: Kelsey with one of her grandpas, Wes7 in the background: Me and Kelsey during the game: Kelsey and Mom: Some other family: Jack Cust before the game: Eveland before the game: Matt Murton in left: The outfield: The infield: Bleacher flags: Eveland and the Angels' dugout: Vlad strikes out: And Ziggy!

Even with all the craziness, the lack of offense, and the loss, it was a great experience that I won't forget. Those who can go to games: be glad that the A's are close to you.