Okay, I have a new outlook on games at Visalia and Bakersfield. I'm no longer going to worry about a so-called perfect broadcast, or anything even resembling it. I'm going to do the best I can, but I'm going to lower my expectations to a point that it just doesn't matter. I just want to grind through each game, not think about it afterward, and move onto the next ballpark.
Tonight, there was a loud rapping sound during the middle of a game. Thought it was somebody setting off firecrackers. I was later told it was gunshots by a car as it drove by an apartment complex. Still not sure if that's true. Either way, it's just not fun. It's hard to get comfortable here.
It was also dollar beer night. The crowd was pretty tanked. A group of six guys spent most of the game at the top of the stands, just in front of me. I was high enough that I could see over them, for the most part, but I had to bob and weave a few times. I thought about telling them "down in front," but realized drawing attention to me wasn't good.
Besides, these guys looked like they were looking for trouble. It's bad enough that all the sober people -- or drunks paying attention -- see the crowd mic as they walk by, and feel the need to say something directly into it. There's no security around me. The last thing I need is a bunch of drunk dudes who think it's amusing to mess with me.
So I don't say a word. The drunks come and go. The gunshots or firecrackers are behind me. It's freezing cold again. It's super dark.
Happiness is Visalia in the rear-view mirror.
Oh yeah, and the boss not making me work tomorrow morning from 4-9 a.m. at the radio station.
Tonight, there was a loud rapping sound during the middle of a game. Thought it was somebody setting off firecrackers. I was later told it was gunshots by a car as it drove by an apartment complex. Still not sure if that's true. Either way, it's just not fun. It's hard to get comfortable here.
It was also dollar beer night. The crowd was pretty tanked. A group of six guys spent most of the game at the top of the stands, just in front of me. I was high enough that I could see over them, for the most part, but I had to bob and weave a few times. I thought about telling them "down in front," but realized drawing attention to me wasn't good.
Besides, these guys looked like they were looking for trouble. It's bad enough that all the sober people -- or drunks paying attention -- see the crowd mic as they walk by, and feel the need to say something directly into it. There's no security around me. The last thing I need is a bunch of drunk dudes who think it's amusing to mess with me.
So I don't say a word. The drunks come and go. The gunshots or firecrackers are behind me. It's freezing cold again. It's super dark.
Happiness is Visalia in the rear-view mirror.
Oh yeah, and the boss not making me work tomorrow morning from 4-9 a.m. at the radio station.
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