So if there is a new MILB ballpark opening anywhere within one tank of gas, I gotta go.  So I went to Nashville.  On a Tuesday.  And it was kind of cold.  And my car broke down. And there was a fix-it place with great Yelp reviews one block from where it started to go down.  And they fixed it in one hour.  And they didn’t cheat me. But it was still more money than I wanted to spend. But it could have broken down on I-40 in Putnam County. But it didn’t. And now it’s fixed and running better than ever.  So I was I was off to races. And it was free T-shirt night.  But only if you are one of the first 1,000 in the park.  And I was. So I got one. And it’s 100% cotton. And now I was warmer with extra cotton.

Sometimes you just have get out of town in a sickly car and take some chances if you want a free bright red Nashville Sounds T-shirt. I know I own a thrift store full of T-shirts.  But this one is RED. And FREE. And real COTTON. And….RED.

I got there about an hour before my pal (as opposed to sitting on the side of I-40 in Putnam County) and decided to do the glorious walk around First Tennessee Park. Nothing says baseball like a bank I have no love for.  But, in this case, I’ll have to call it even with said bank because the park is fabulous. It’s big, clean, fun, chocked full of gregarious staff and padded seats, and as a bonus (?)…. a wandering hot chicken.

Anybody else got an idea why the hot chicken is a mascot?

I didn’t think so.

My long time pal and musical cohort Dug Meech met me at the gate and we assumed our padded seats down the third base line. We managed to see a great evening of baseball, discuss the record we are working on, have some laughs about beer sales pitches and aging, and not see Barry Zito.

Speaking of the beer, it came in GIANT CANS.  But it was chilly enough to where an enthusiastic ‘coldest beer in Nashville’ claim didn’t sound particularly appealing. In fact, that’s how he talked me out of it. Dug, being ready for any adventure, went for it. I had beer envy fairly soon after that.

Somewhere before last call, the enthusiastic senior pushing giant beer in a shiny can was giving it one more go to some reluctant drinkers on the first row. As he gave up and walked away, he slowly turned back for one final pitch:

I’m just trying to help you people!

He went down swinging.