Since it's the last weekend of summer (for me anyway) we decided to catch one last baseball game. The season will be ending soon, so we thought we'd better eat one more hot dog and bag of peanuts. When we got downtown we immediately realized something was not quite right. There seemed to be a lot of people for just a Suns baseball game. So we asked one of the traffic directors what was going on and then found out that the game was conveniently starting at the same time that 13,000 people would be going into the next door arena to watch Bruce Springsteen. We almost turned around and left, but since we were "born in the USA" and enjoy baseball, we waited in the traffic. But of course the traffic made us late to the game, but also thankfully we were "born to run," so we rushed in and didn't miss much. We hurried across E Street (now I'm making things up) and sat in our seats to enjoy the last "glory days" of summer.
After the game, they lit off a pretty cool firework show, but Paul wasn't "dancing in the dark" to it. Mostly because he grew tired of the game after the first 30 minutes and preceded to try to run up the stairs to escape. But it was a good time, and the Suns won, so the home town crowd was happy. And they gave away four cars, but I didn't win. So now if I ever go to Philadelphia, I'll just have to walk the streets.
Ok, I'll stop.
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