Game 3

Never have I fallen so short of my not-so-secret desire to be the most beloved person on the planet. I had my first inkling that my popularity ranking had slipped a bit as we approached the line to enter the Toronto Blue Jays stadium and were decisively boo-ed. Really...all because of a t-shirt? It turns out that there is a BIG difference between royal blue and blue jay blue. Clearing security didn't make me feel secure at all as the lady handing out free Blue Jay "swing-in-the-air" towels snatched the box away from me as though I had a communicable disease. New to the art of sports fandom, ("Go Bills!" My friend Zach gives me a new Buffalo Bills player name every other day or so to build up my communication roster. The problem is, though, that players seem to get traded faster than I can memorize them.) I was surprised by the politely passionate hatred expressed by Canadians--a people who couldn't come up with anything better than a leaf to slap on their flag (Shhh...don't tell our neighbors to the North, but we have maple trees here too!) and whose national anthem has to include some nifty French phrases to jazz it up. Yeah...French.  So 50,000 Blue Jays fans (because they have no one else to root for) and three brave Kansas City Royals fans settled in to watch Game 3 of the 2015 ALCS Playoffs. It was rough...I won't lie to you. But I believe that the Royals realized that, if they had won the game (like they surely would have), the Mosiman family would have been ceremoniously thrown from their level 500 seating.

Two particularly rowdy Jays fans (No foam finger here...big blue foam "J"...Sesame Street would be proud:  "Tonight's game...brought to you by the letter J") imaginatively chanted "Let's go, Blue Jays" (clap, clap, clap-clap-clap), shouted "You suck," to no one in particular, and occasionally hissed at us...all while dressed in man-sized uniform pajamas. Adorable.

Even more adorable was the 7th inning stretch song...it could have been performed by Robin Sparkles! Those of you who just missed my "How I Met Your Mother" reference, IMMEDIATELY stop reading and binge watch all nine seasons. Instead of "Let's go to the mall," we have "Let's play ball!" Sydney and I, of course, tinkered a bit to make it fit..."Let's go play some ball!" "How I Met Your Mother" fans are already singing...you're welcome.
 I was really looking forward to a cute picture of Brad and I at the game. He is remarkably resistant to dressing like my twin so I had to strike while the iron was hot. My friend, Josh is always posting sweet photos of himself with his girlfriend, Sam, wearing sportswear so I thought...this is my time. Sydney aimed the camera...I put on a sultry pout and struck a pose. Reviewing the result on the 3 1/2 hour ride home, I asked Brad if he thought I was coming down with Bell's palsy as my sultry pout looked more like left-side-of-the-face paralysis. And forget the 7th inning stretch...I looked more like 9-month-old stretch marks as obviously an unexpected breeze must have come out of nowhere to blow up my shirt to make me look like a pregnant platypus (remember my sultry pout...duck-billed). A quick review of Sydney's pictures reveals that she looks fantastic in every one. I just can't win.