I was lucky enough to have a work function in Washington, DC last week, and as a habit, attended a baseball game. I love comparing different baseball experiences, from cheers to hot dogs to crowd conversation. It's one of the fastest ways to get a sense of local flavor. After much debate, my boyfriend and I decided to make the hour-long trek out to Baltimore as opposed to seeing the new park downtown. Camden Yards holds an important place in ballpark revitalization, and with the Astro in town, it'd be an opportunity to see Miggy in all his fading glory.

It was a beautifully warm Thursday evening, tank-top warm and a clear orange sunset. Driving in from the 95, you could see the shipyards just feet away from the park. The new Raven's stadium is directly next door, and I briefly wondered how badly traffic must snarl if both parks are used at the same time.

I only spent a few hours in Baltimore, but it really reminded me of Oakland. Clearly, the town had seen better days., a port city used to playing second fiddle to a larger, more sophisticated neighbor. A city now known equally for its gritty urban landscape and soul food than industry. It wasn't hard to see we're kissing cousins.

By the time we reached the box office, we were struck with how perfect the park seemed. It's built in beautiful red brick, a Mid-Atlantic standard, with Boog's barbeque wafting in from Eutaw Street. Every detail seemed designed to draw us in. No towering columns of concrete, no awkward entrances, no will-call half a mile away from the public transit entrance. My youngest blurted out how it reminded him of AT&T park - and I chose to ignore him.

It was Nick Markakis bobble-head night, and bleachers+BBQ/$15 special to boot - so there were well over 25,000 people at the park on a Thursday night. Again, one of the kids noted "there are so many people here," and I chose to ignore that comment as well.

The food was spectacular. The BBQ was really quite tender and not over-sauced. The standard hot-dogs were slightly spicy, almost Polish flavored - and grilled! - served on a nice egg-yellow bun. Everything seemed to be seasoned with Old Bay mix, which was a welcomed addition. The beer selections were not as wide, nor the servings/$ as generous as the Coliseum.

Without the huge pylons of concrete everywhere, the field seemed much closer and the players more immediate. For the first time, I really got to see the physical resemblance between Kevin Millar and Jack Cust. (I must see Jack Cust in many faces.)

The game itself was sub-par. We are so spoiled with great pitching. Yet it was nice to see the O's win the game despite crappy pitching and barely servicable defense. They don't seem to cheer in cadence very much, which is one of my favorite aspects of being an A's fan. Didn't hear any heckling (boo!), but people were very nice and happy to start up a conversation with a family sporting much green and gold. Maybe sitting in that beautiful park on a perfect night eating very tasty hot-dogs with beer sold in the stands was baseball nirvana enough to forget to hate anyone.

One final note - whenever an Oriole hits one out of the park, the jumbotron shows a clip of Frank the Tank arm-pumping after chugging beer. That may have made it a perfect baseball night.

Everytime I go to another park I leave thinking -- our park is pretty damned dilapidated, but our team kicks ass. Watching crappy pitching and fielding would have ruined the ballpark high if had I had actually cared who won.

I was fortunate enough to miss Friday night's game against the Rangers, as I was dragged to the Duran Duran concert in Concord. Generally speaking, I'd rather be at a game, but that was evidently one to miss. *oy* At any rate, my best friend is painfully obsessed with Duran - going as far as Europe to catch a show - so I came along for this ride. (I think she also needed a designated driver...)

I missed the whole Duran-a-mania in the 80s and they only seem mildly nostalgically amusing now. But this same friend has gone to more than a few baseball games with, politely nods with a bemused smile as ramble on about the A's. Aside from trying to convince me to go to Anaheim and stake out Rich at the Doubletree, she's had very little to contribute to this thread of conversation.

So, I'm in the 5th row at the concert, staring right at Simon LeBon and I feel like I've seen that face somewhere before. As I said, I was not a Duran fan back in the day, so I didn't think it was from old Tiger Beat posters. Then it hits me: he looks like Jack Cust with a bad dye job. I couldn't shake it all night. Kinda doughy face, thick in the middle...maybe I really did want to be at that game after all...

I do hope, however, that as awkward as Jack can sometimes be in the outfield, that he can move with a bit more finesse than an aging pop-star.

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Jes saying....

So, the kids went to bed after the 6th inning, fully determined "Swish will pull us through, mom.." I'm not sure if they were trying to be cute enough to weasel a few more innings before bedtime, but I was reminded that this indeed Spring Break, and that they weren't even going to a game until this Saturday. <insert pouting faces here>

Them's the breaks, kids. Go to bed....and leave mommy to quietly finish the panic attack that started when Travis Buck's beautiful triple was wasted.

But it was nice to wake up this morning and tell them that we did win, in dramatic fashion. They took it personally that Swish wasn't the hero, not even registering who Todd Walker was -- but a win is a win.

Kids have the luxury of waking up and having everything right with the world. We grown-ups can see a little further down the trail, and we see where we're headed.......

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I'm sure I'm not the only parent here. I'd love to hear from other parents about signs/stories of having an A's household.

Here's a few real-life tidbits of our Green and Gold household

(Maybe I'm just in denial about how crappy the first two games have been and want to talk about something else besides Crosby and Calero.)

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