And that’s the ball game,

April 6, 2009. Blue Jays home (and season) opener.

I was so incredibly excited for this game. After a brief baseball teaser last month at the World Baseball Classic, it was finally time for opening day. If you’d asked me two days ago what i thought about opening days, I would have told you that I LOVED them. 50 000 screaming fans jam-packed in, cheering for my team, and a level of excitement that won’t be seen again for the rest of the season (unless we head to the world series – because Jays fans favour the fair weather).

But today I am almost wishing that I hadn’t gone.

Yes, they destroyed the Tigers and that makes me happy. And yes, there was a lot of really good baseball – home runs, good fielding and nice hits. And yes, people were excited and it started out as a good show of fan spirit. But then, like other times before, some genius decides that it would be HILARIOUS if he could get a paper airplane on the field. He throws, it flies, the surrounding morons cheer, and it lands on the field. Then, another genius thinks he should do that too. After a few minutes, there are a pile of airplanes in the corner of the right field, and one way out by the second base.

So as I stare at the field, I can’t help but think:
a) why is that fun?
b) what if a player slips and either misses the catch and ruins the game, or breaks his leg and ruins his career. Hilarious, I know.
c) why bother going to the game? Is it because $10 shit-tastic beer is totally worth leaving your house for and throwing airplanes is the only thing you can do to make it through the game?

Then they stopped the game, cleared the field, and had stadium guys run around and pick up the crap. Of course that only encouraged the geniuses. So they threw more.

Finally the announcer had to point out that the Blue Jays, who were up by nearly 10 runs, would have to forfeit the game if people kept throwing things on the field.

All of this was also accompanied by numerous drunken fights. But I don’t care much about that.

What I really don’t get is why people enjoy ruining things so much. I never had the urge to break windows or spray paint things. To steal things from smaller kids, or wreck things just because I can.

So what has happened to people that they just don’t care? Is life so disappointing that we can only garner pleasure by hurting someone else?


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