Our first pay to get in baseball game

What is a Chukar? When we lived in Oregon it was this really noisy little bird that had about 20 babies at a time and they’d all go down to the water to drink in Hell’s Canyon about the time the fish were biting. Some of the mighty hunters loved to brag about shooting them even though it’s much neater and sweeter and cheaper just to pick up a nice fresh chicken at the grocery store. With WalMart chickens, one of Bill Clinton’s Arkansas relatives would have killed it, plucked, and cleaned it for you. Most of all it would taste like chicken, as that’s exactly what Chukar tastes like. And you wouldn’t break off any teeth on the buckshot that a legally hunted Chukar would be full of. Like I talk from experience or anything.

Chukars is the name of the Idaho Falls sort of semi-pro baseball team. Dad and I got invited to have dinner and watch a game last night with one of Andrus’s big customer’s annual shindig for their employees. We got there early and both got FREE incredibly cool Chukar baseball hats. I love mine. It is so cool and the little picture of the little annoyingly noisy bird isn’t overwhelming. In fact when you see my great hat you will be asking what in the *#!!@! Is that a picture of on your hat? If you say *#!!@! To my face I will be forced to wash out your mouth with soap. As we all know only Mom is allowed to say naughty words with no consequences. And don’t you forget it.

The hardest part of watching the game from the best seats in the house was the three oversized ADHD minority brats that kept blocking my view. (Please note I didn’t say barn sized Mexicans.) Dad and I got there before they did as if that helped. They were incapable of staying seated. I spent most of the night leaning against the wall watching the game. Okay, so we only stayed until the top of the fifth. The massive siblings weren’t there for anything but the food and to make me hate them.

I was disappointed that the Chukars or the other team didn’t play any better than Trevor’s pony league baseball team. In fact Trevor’s team would have beaten either team. These guys were not very good. The high light of the night was a guy breaking his baseball bat. No one was hurt. I don’t think he even got on base with his hit. The high school girl who sang the national anthem was pretty good as well. The field ump was blinder than I was. Dad wouldn't let me lend him my glasses. He needed them.

I have now been to a professional-ish game. I suspect Potandon who were our hosts doesn’t feed it’s help very well because I’ve never seen a group eat so much as these folks did. I will now have nightmare about the stuffed chicken mascot who chased little kids around and made them cry. Our group getting him to ourselves must have been part of the package.

Next time for $3 I can sit in the stands, get a sunburn and hopefully avoid those people who think they won’t get drunk drinking supersized cans of Lite beer.