tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58663367288092274042008-07-16T17:58:17.711-06:00Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comBlogger79125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-72360255387112195882007-08-24T10:19:00.000-06:002007-08-24T11:30:16.653-06:00

We had just gotten our last beer of the game, standing on top of the hand rails of a distant corner along the third baseline of Fenway Park. Sweet Caroline had just been played and I, like some high school kid at a concert, had held my phone up for my brother to share in the enjoyment. Gagne, his carer in limbo yet still Gagne, was finishing up an inning of middle relief for the Rangers. I wiped

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-68316496251407205312007-08-21T11:41:00.001-06:002007-08-21T11:52:02.335-06:00

During my last true night in New York City, I puppy sat for my friend Caroline. Forgiving her the poor decision to name her dog a person's name, Henry is by far the best dog ever to scurry across the face of the Earth. Not because of tricks, or affection, or intelligence. Because when I took him walking throughout the street of New York and the paths of Central Park, I met more women than I have

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-33826176840360031312007-08-20T20:46:00.000-06:002007-08-20T22:03:13.200-06:00

I finally made it to the Yankee Stadium, as the game was beginning after underestimating my knowledge of the Subway system, again. As I walked up person after person was leaving the Stadium talking of it being sold out. Luckily for me, the power of going to the game solo got me in, somehow. Little did I know that I wouldn't simply be watching the game, I would be immersed in the home of the

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-52101010298606440072007-08-13T21:41:00.000-06:002007-08-14T21:12:33.612-06:00

The Day I Almost Didn't Make It Through(or No More in Baltimore) The day began as so many others before it--waking up in a strange place with no familiar faces, much less anything else. It was the same old stuff, a new shower, new toilet, new city, new public transportation, new sites to mark off the list, and new timetable to fail to keep to. I managed to swallow down a trip to see the Liberty

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-46362815680994593762007-08-10T11:19:00.000-06:002007-08-10T12:44:33.279-06:00

Sometimes things work out in a funny way. Routinely I tried to research the various ballparks which I was due to visit, scoping out the best route to get there, the unique features and if there were any particularly signature foods that I should look to try. Philadelphia's Citizens Bank Park time and time again came out as the most kid friendly ballpark out of all the parks in the Major League.

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-78364088397946717482007-08-07T09:51:00.000-06:002007-08-07T10:37:49.558-06:00

Philadelphia, in a cracked nutshell After arriving in the City of Brotherly Love, following a memorable first trip on a Chinatown bus, I set off to soak up the history of Freedom's birthplace. When wandering the streets of Philly's newly renovated historical district, a keen observer will notice something rather quickly. The entirety of Philadelphia's economic foundation rests upon people

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-60458856680580198342007-08-01T13:27:00.001-06:002007-08-01T14:18:09.733-06:00

While I spent a good deal of time in New York City, and went to Ground Zero, was the first to not make the cut to see the Colbert Report taped, went to an Irish Pub with real live Irishmen, saw a large handful of friends and family (Joe, Luis, Caroline, Katie, Danyelle, Krista, Tricia, Mr. Bill, and others), visited Central Park, and generally meandered the streets of New York, they were all

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-3880036336090239862007-07-31T10:52:00.000-06:002007-08-01T13:27:31.725-06:00

My experience with the New York Mets got off to a great start, as the most thorough inspection into a baseball game got me the most action I've had in a long, long time. Too bad it was from a large, old, overweight security guard. I entered the Sunday Interleague Day game with full intention of silently spiting the Mets throughout the contest, with their Faux Jeff Francoeur David Wright, and

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-35658504602174423702007-07-30T11:56:00.000-06:002007-07-30T12:38:05.948-06:00

Right before we took the pic, Nicole turned her to Joe, making me look like the creepy guy sidling in on the picture. After making it to the train station somehow after my night in New Jersey, I entered the Big Apple. The city was awash in activity, and as such Joe decided that I needed the real New York experience, and took me out of the city to the Belmont Race track. There I made one and

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-45269921892573250222007-07-30T11:07:00.000-06:002007-07-30T11:44:23.385-06:00

After living down the street from Jeff and Tricia while I was growing up, they decided that the wide open spaces of Texas were no match for the unrivaled beauty of New Jersey, and left Austin for their old home. Fast forward 13 years, and I am once again spending the night at Jeff's place, staying up too late, and making a general ass of myself. Replace our home frozen Dr. Pepper popsicles

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-47830791525695067012007-07-24T13:56:00.000-06:002007-07-25T11:28:49.064-06:00

After making it back to the land of little pink houses and amber waves of grain, I stopped by Mecca, New York. Also known as Cooperstown, or the Major League Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum. For a sport that prides itself on records and recordable feats, this is the shrine that I expected it to be. Even the introductory video, long a home for cheesy outdated graphics and footage, went the extra

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-69414682310731833432007-07-22T14:24:00.000-06:002007-07-23T16:34:39.029-06:00

The Rodgers Center, for all the technological achievements of being one the first retractable roof stadiums as well as a respectable arena despite the fact that it houses a Canadian Football League Team (Go Argos!) as well, has one major glaring flaw. It doesn’t take plastic. I’m pretty sure even the friendly women on the street corners in most cities nowadays will take credit cards—and keep a

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-15359214516785820912007-07-22T12:36:00.000-06:002007-07-22T13:22:39.996-06:00

Lagging a bit from my encounters with the Iron Belt and Border Patrol, I limped into Toronto with high expectations. Canada, the Great 51st State, is a whimsical place with vociferous advocates needling me about the wondrous time I was bound to experience there. Rumors surfaced of beautiful sirens unknowing of their feminine charms, willing and able to speak with even the most poorly goateed

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-41570258051626131432007-07-11T09:26:00.000-06:002007-07-11T09:48:10.694-06:00

Rolling out of Cleveland was every bit as relieving as I had hoped it would be. After what quite possibly could have been the very last night I sleep in my car on this trip, I awoke the next morning and headed to Toronto, stopping by Buffalo on the way. Buffalo reminds me slightly of Charlotte, and during the summer at least it was a hip little city, with some old buildings and a compact little

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-15809450318618215842007-07-10T14:55:00.000-06:002007-07-10T15:49:02.059-06:00

Warning: By the end of this Post, there is a chance you may think I am a terrible person, petty, and judgemental. Nice to meet you.It appears if there is a way for me to not enjoy a pleasantly sunny Saturday watching John Smoltz pitch a winning game for the Braves, in which Edgar Renteria goes 5-5, and the Ballpark gives away sample hotdog wieners all during Batting Practice. Simply hold the

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-29336238515999325802007-07-09T08:09:00.001-06:002007-07-11T09:20:16.942-06:00

First of, Yes, that is me in a Goatee. Pittsburgh began a frantic stretch through the iron belt in which I attended games from teams I didn't care for, and in cities that I thought would terrify me. I say thought because Pittshburgh turned out, from my few hours lost and driving around the city, to be a very cool place. The my only problem with the city-that I got to experience-was that it

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-53305184211945504752007-07-04T16:34:00.000-06:002007-07-04T16:35:20.829-06:00

An homage to the man who re-introduced me to the joys of a Cookies and Cream Milkshake.

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-76951262631298046652007-07-02T22:26:00.000-06:002007-07-02T22:34:54.314-06:00

In 1994 Bud Adams broke the heart of every powder blue Oiler fan across the globe, moving the team to the state of Phil Fulmer (Phil Fulmer?!), and giving the NFL the first of a new breed of generic football team names and logos. The crushed 12 year old I was looked elsewhere for a team, and the image of Icky Woods, shuffling over the Oilers years earlier, the Bengal player shifting the ball hand

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-59923852755704231992007-07-01T09:47:00.000-06:002007-07-11T09:20:54.583-06:00

Cincinnati was destined for fun. Any city with sin it in twice, as my farm system friend Charlie pointed out to me, can't be bad. I say that any city that shares a border with Kentucky is predestined for glory. "Why?" oh silly naive readers may ask. Keeping my judgment of such a stupid question to myself, I will tell you. If you share a border with Kentucky, you share a city with

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-24553195539965626482007-06-28T11:51:00.001-06:002007-06-29T22:55:45.755-06:00

It was bound to happen what with the sheer amount of games being ingested over one summer. I thought it was meeting Milton Bradley at the Negro League Museum. Then I thought it was getting a foul ball. Or seeing the Future Home Run King hit one out of the park. Or seeing the bears of Sequoia. I thought it could have been any of these things, and those thoughts could very well have come to

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-42481035226191182822007-06-26T15:30:00.000-06:002007-06-26T15:40:05.362-06:00

Kris actually seemed genuinely excited for me to be showing up to take advantage of her place for three days. Having just completed my week of solitude across the Great West, I was genuinely excited to have company, a shower, and a landscape that didn’t swish past me at 77 miles per hour. These two things added up to me being a huge wuss when it came to going out and experiencing the city. We

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-81516853643406504312007-06-26T12:53:00.000-06:002007-06-26T15:30:34.289-06:00

Chicago turned out to be very different than what I expected. Aside from the atmosphere coming as close to resembling the south with SEC stickers on tons of cars and pastels polos on half the people, the city itself was crazy. Crazy like there was a beach a mile away from Linkin Park where I was staying. On top of that, it was a freshwater beach because it was on a huge friggin lake. Big enough

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-76013470126031161942007-06-25T19:23:00.001-06:002007-06-25T19:23:48.067-06:00

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-43235549790304538302007-06-22T09:51:00.000-06:002007-06-23T08:17:15.050-06:00

Minnesota, despite my affinity for twins, came during a brief stretch where I was a little under the weather. I think that this may have resulted from the decrepit living conditions which I had spent the past week and 24 hours specifically. After the Brewers day game previously, I fell asleep in the car waiting for traffic to die down, and pretty much stayed in the same exact position for the

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5866336728809227404.post-9485810873461025452007-06-17T21:25:00.001-06:002007-06-17T21:36:57.041-06:00

Here for all you fans of the videos. And for all you fans of the Fans of the Game.

Colinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00836063023218752581noreply@blogger.com