Not For Tourists paid me to write what is essentially fan fiction about the Phillie Phanatic and Swoop the Eagle getting into a brawl.
I got paid to write fan fiction. About mascots. Sometimes my life is pretty fantastic.
Not For Tourists paid me to write what is essentially fan fiction about the Phillie Phanatic and Swoop the Eagle getting into a brawl.
I got paid to write fan fiction. About mascots. Sometimes my life is pretty fantastic.
I don't care much about baseball. It's like a cucumber to me: it's not bad, sure, but I don't know if I want to spend my money on it at the sports supermarket. In my fleeting contact with the sport, nothing has left me particularly excited. I took in a couple of minor league Portland Sea Dogs games in middle school, for example, but the only thing I really liked was when they played the Imperial March from Star Wars for a meeting on the mound. Playing the sport (or its close approximation) didn't do much for me either: I stumbled my way through a full season of softball, and the only thing I ever really got down was the bunt.
I bring this up because tomorrow afternoon my coworkers and I are being treated to a Phillies game and "up to $7.00 of all beef hot dog" from the concession stand or something like that. One of my coworkers has been prepping me for the experience by telling me things I can say to act like I know about baseball/the Phillies. Suggestions include "No pitching," "I hope they don’t make it to their 10,000th losing game," and "Insert player name here while throwing arms in the air." I, however, very much prefer to pretend I know what I am talking about by making up sheer lies. So, without further ado, here is Meg's Guide to Baseball and the Philadelphia Phillies: