Fun Game

Picture this: A bar in Colorado. One television. 25 people. Everybody – guys and gals – are dolled up in cowboy hats, jean jackets, etc. Except for three people at a small table: me and my parents. My parents are both wearing their Cleveland Indians baseball hats.

The Indians had to win last night in order to make it to the World Series. We drove an hour so we could see the game. (We’re in a very remote part of Colorado). But Denver was also playing Pittsburg in football and the Rockies had already advanced safely to the World Series.

The men at the bar said, “Turn on the football game!”

My mom cried, “No! We drove an hour to watch the Indians!”

The bartender stood there with the remote in her hand, glancing nervously back and forth between the men and my parents.

The bartender left the baseball game on. I think she couldn’t resist how cute my parents looked in their little outfits (I’ll post pictures next week).

The Indians would make a double-play or score a run, and my mom would clap and cheer. All by herself. At least, that’s how it started out. By the end of the night the entire place was rooting for the Indians on behalf of my mom, even as the team got further and further behind.

It was a great fun even though the Indians lost.