Frog Stomp

"What the hell is that? Burn it with fire!" said Watson, when she saw this picture. Nothing against Roberto Clemente, but the hybrid-lizard look is inherently unflattering.

So we headed to Florida to nominally wrap up the Florida State League—at least for the moment. Since neither of us cares much for the state in general, our plan was to see six games in an efficient four days. The last time we were there, we faced rainout after rainout; this time it was the opposite: rainouts before we got there manifested in doubleheaders while we were. In the event, we wound up seeing a perhaps record EIGHT games in four days. Let's run it down:

As North and as West as It's Going to Get

It's a rhetorical question, I think. Daniel Klennert can probably tell you more.

With this year's first trip looming rather alarmingly—in two days we'll be back in Port Charlotte, hoping to actually see a game this time—it's time for a photo essay on the rest of Northwest adventures. If this is insufficient, well....

Top-notch customer service at Safeco Field

Top-notch customer service at Safeco Field

Counting Down (2019 edition)

Burn, baseball, burn!
(Not an Alan Smithee film)

I interrupt the already extremely belated coverage of the August 2018 Northwest trip to answer the timeless question, "Hey, where are you guys going this year?" I'm so glad you asked. 

Odd Is My Copilot

Foliage at twelve o'clock

It is a truth universally acknowledged that if a stranger tells you that you "might" encounter "incidental nudity" at his house, you will, in fact, see him naked from the very first moment you meet. This holds true even if—perhaps especially if—the house in question is a decommissioned 727 in the Oregon woods. We went to such a house en route to a Hillsboro Hoops Hops game last August. It's taken me a while to write this, because, as we well know, it is possible to overthink a thing. To be fair, though, it is also possible to badly, badly underthink a situation and find yourself constantly risking powerful electric shocks or engulfment by bees, when all you wanted was to live a quiet life in a stratofortress.