What a damned magical Saturday. We barreled into the Bronx, tailgated with minimal hassle (only in the form of a public urination citation), soaked up the sun, heckled some fans, saw home runs soar into the crowd, and had an all-around amazing time—with old friends and with new.
A shade break with some Hoegaarden:
I heart NY:
The only totally bizarre thing? I wore a new pair of clogs, for the first time ever, to a baseball game in beating hot sunshine—and I walked away without sausage feet. Say what? You fo real? Someday I’ll figure out that sneakers are my friend.
(p.s. Go Cubs!)