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| Above L. P. Frans Stadium, with not a fighter jet to be seen |
...it takes a plane to fly. After an appetizer at Yankee Stadium (a.k.a. Where The American Century Will Never End) a couple weeks back, Rob and I met in Charlotte for a five-game swing over MemorialVeteransFlagPatriotsDay Weekend. (Not to spoil future posts, but despite the efforts of Tropical Storm Alberto, we did see four games.)
We started with the Hickory Crawdads. I've found that what I remember about our trips, generally, is not the baseball. In fact, writing this four days later, I can't even remember the visiting team. What I do remember is the weird roaring noise that accompanied the singing of the national anthem. At first, I thought it was feedback. After thinking about it further, I still thought it was feedback. Slowly, it dawned on me that we were listening to a Virtual Fly Over—there were no jets, just a recording mucking up the (tuneless) performance.
And then, as suddenly as the jets "arrived," they were "gone." It was economical, anyway, and good for a laugh.
