Spring Training

Because today was an absolutely wonderful spring day and perfect for baseball, Kia and I went to the UNCG home opener. We sat in the sun and watched our boys in pinstripes slug away. They played Marist Red Foxes (a NY team), and won 8-3. It was a pretty great sporting experience ... until the 7th inning.

Being the first home game and early in the season, the seats were pretty empty. The green space had some people with blankets, but the section that Kia and I were seated in had maybe ten other people in it. This was wonderful because it allowed us to be good baseball fans: critiquing the wardrobe choices of the ump and players, making fun of the oh-so-crappy musical choices being played in the down time, cheering and yelling for our team, mocking the names and/or hometowns of the opposing team. It was all great fun.

At the bottom of the seventh inning, a group of six or so very Southern people sat behind us. Not a few rows behind but DIRECTLY behind. No, mind you, there were FIVE empty--COMPLETELY EMPTY--rows behind us. These people sat down and immediately began talking ... loudly. It wouldn't have been that bad (although it prevented us from discussing The Face and other fun topics) if they hadn't been COMPLETE dumb asses. Here are just a few examples of their complete idiocracy:

1. "Which ones are us?" (Clearly they are color blind and cannot tell the difference between the bright red uniforms of the Marist team and the blue and white pinstripes of the Spartans).

2. "Where is Marist?" (This wouldn't be all bad except that they pronounced in "Maaaahrist.")
3. "Shouldn't you be home cookin' pecan pies today?" (This was asked by a gentleman seated three seats away and one row down to an obnoxious woman seated directly behind me, smacking her gum loudly.)

4. "Is that their picture up there on the board? Ain't that nice? (Upon noticing the GIANT blue scoreboard.)

5. "Maaaaaaahrist musts be somewhere around here. Look at all the players from Virginia ... and Mass." (Important note: On the Marist team roster, two players are from Va. The other 95% are from Jersey, New York, Connecticut, and Pa. Do they not teach geography down here? Since when are Virginia and Mass neighboring states?)

6. "I don't got no plans." (Do I need to say more?)

Their loud conversation then moved to answering cellphones, smacking their gum in our ears, shouting to their friend seated halfway across the stadium, and being generally annoying. The worst part of it was their horribly grating Southern accents. It sets one's teeth on edge. Just when I start loving living here and really enjoying life (I even told Kia quite a few times that "This spring is going to rock!), I am thrown into the midst of those horrific Southern accents that make me miss home and the North more than anything in the world.

Because we couldn't rightly talk about them right then and there, Kia and I repeatedly exchanged annoyed glances Clearly she is ready for motherhood because, at one point, he actually said to me, "We will talk about this in the car." It almost made me pee my pants.

Hopefully those annoying rednecks won't be at next weekends game against Army. Of course, if they are, Chico will be there with me and he has absolutely no qualms against being mean to obnoxious people.