One thing about sports these days is great access to the pros. While my Dad in early 1960s did have Bobby Hull hack a loogie onto his lap as he sat in a front row seat at Maple Leaf Gardens, just at the spot where and when Hull was being checked into the boards, it is only now with the internets and cable TV and sports radio that we have the sense that we are close to the best players in any sport we follow. But as most people without financial or career investments in those media, we know that ain't real.

In baseball, however, and perhaps more than in any other sport, it is possible to directly follow the game at levels far far removed from the big time. Our cheese mongering potter, Gary, sent me the pictures above and this description from his recent trip to the minor minors:

last week as I said I went to a class C St Stephen's (of the Twins Minnesota College Baseball League) game starring (HAH!) my nephew. It was memorable, as I said for his team tying it in the ninth and winning it in the 11th. It was the cutest little country field--tiny town, behind the school, totally surrounded by deep forest. No way to ever find a foul or home run ball. ANYWAY, as I said, it was 104 degrees, but windy and we sat on the edge of the woods in the trees. The only other shade came from the beer tent, where happy observers could sit in the shade and drink cold brews and eat free bar-b-q. I was with a bunch of teetotalers though, and spent the game avoiding the poisen ivy instead....

Free BBQ in the beer tent. Let's just contemplate that concept for a moment...I am trying to figure out what Class C is and where this team is. Give me a minute, wouldja?