Hotdogs and Baseball

All I know about baseball is that you are supposed to hit a ball with a bat and run around some bases. I wouldn’t say it’s a game I’m too familiar with. So after spending an entire day last weekend in the hot sun at the Khatsalano festival, it was actually quite nice to be able to sit down in the shade (and feel a little bit bad for those whose seats were in the direct sun..) and watch the Vancouver Canadians lose to Everett. The free tickets, perfect view, good company, racing sushi mascots, and fireworks after the game were a nice touch too. Not to mention the (mandatory?) hotdog. I don’t care what mystery scraps off the butcher floor have been collected to create them, I can’t help but love them. And for whatever reason or crushed hoof, this was a particularly good one.

So do yourself a favour- go for the hot-dogs, and stay for the game. And just clap (and boo) along with everyone else, and pretend you know how scoring works.

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