Here’s an article about the mud that gets rubbed on the baseballs.
Last night, I dreamed that Levi, Stacey, and I had gone to a ballgame in Cincinnati. We’d parked across the Ohio River in Kentucky (knowing me, that was my decision, both for the “fun” of being able to park in another state and because the parking is cheaper over there), and were following the crowd to the stadium, but the crowd was for some reason walking parallel to the shoreline; we passed up at least a couple of bridges, and I woke up before we’d made it to the game.
Also, Levi was wearing his bathrobe in the car, but fortunately changed clothes somehow before we started walking to the stadium. Along the way, he complained that his naps are better when he’s wearing daytime clothes.
Now, I do very much enjoy the company of Levi and Stacey, but as long as I was dreaming, why couldn’t, for example, Caroline Dhavernas have been with us? Well, she probably wouldn’t have been too happy about us not getting across the river.
P.S.: I guess Great American Ballpark is the only MLB stadium that’s within reasonable walking distance of another state. I can think of a few where you can take public transportation from another state (both New York stadiums, both Chicago stadiums, Citizens Bank Park, and Busch Stadium) and one that’s fairly easy to get to from another country via a combination of walking and public transportation (Petco Park).