That's peanuts...

I hadn't been to a professional baseball game for 15 years. The last player strike left a sour taste, and I had pretty well adjusted my schedule to where professional baseball didn't affect my life. Then I received an invitation from my daughter and son-in-law to attend a Reds game this week with them, two of our granddaughters, and his parents.

So I decided I had probably made my point with the MLB, and either they had learned their lesson, or they were never going to learn their lesson, and I wasn't about to let them mess up a chance to spend the day with Hannah and Rebekah, regardless.

I did notice a few things have changed since the last time I was there. I didn't recognize any of the players. All of them were younger than me. Most of them were younger than my kids. They tore down Riverfront Stadium and put up the Great American Ballpark.

I met my wife Susan at a Reds game in 1974. I've still got the ticket stub from that game. It was for a blue seat in Riverfront, and it cost $4.00.

This week I paid $4.50 for a bag of peanuts. If I had decided to drink a cup of beer it would have cost me $7.50.  It cost $10.00 to park the car before we walked to our $42.00 seats.

While walking into the stadium I think I recognized one of the panhandlers. I'm pretty sure it was the same guy that was working the same spot the last time I went to a game down there. While the other panhandlers were holding signs asking for food, this particular man had a sign that read, "Why lie? I just want a beer."

I hope he doesn't plan on buying it in the stadium.

And I hope he doesn't want any peanuts to go with it.