"A royal wedding doesn't just happen every year."
The girls in my graduate program have been more excited about the marriage of Prince William to Catherine Middleton than all of England (including the couple and the Queen). They counted down the days, they finished homework early, they followed every update (dress design, wedding location, etc), and woke at 4am to revel in girly sighs and fluttery hearts on the TV screen.
The girls in my graduate program have been more excited about the marriage of Prince William to Catherine Middleton than all of England (including the couple and the Queen). They counted down the days, they finished homework early, they followed every update (dress design, wedding location, etc), and woke at 4am to revel in girly sighs and fluttery hearts on the TV screen.
Their excitement was contagious, though not enough to peel me from under my covers before sunrise. Unlike every girl in my program, I slept through a "not-so-often-in-a-lifetime" event. I know that next class I'll hear more details than the Prince's personal news reporter.
A royal experience may have passed me by in the morning, but come afternoon I threw on cleats and chased it down with a camera and baseball jersey. What I caught was, in my opinion, a bit superior to 4am royalty:
A royal experience may have passed me by in the morning, but come afternoon I threw on cleats and chased it down with a camera and baseball jersey. What I caught was, in my opinion, a bit superior to 4am royalty:
American royalty.
April 29th marked my flamboyant introduction to the Kansas City Royals baseball team. The Royals and I were a little awkward at first--unsure whether to shake hands or have a sunflower seed spitting contest. We beat around the bush until I finally succumbed to loud cheering and binoculars. The perfect mixture of sunlight and green grass equaled instant patriotism and cravings for a baseball cap. I welcomed it with open arms and a polished camera lens.
April 29th marked my flamboyant introduction to the Kansas City Royals baseball team. The Royals and I were a little awkward at first--unsure whether to shake hands or have a sunflower seed spitting contest. We beat around the bush until I finally succumbed to loud cheering and binoculars. The perfect mixture of sunlight and green grass equaled instant patriotism and cravings for a baseball cap. I welcomed it with open arms and a polished camera lens.
Prince William and his lace-bedecked bride would be hard-pressed to trump my first KC Royals experience. My "royal day" started with free parking, inexpensive tickets, good seats, perfect weather, and marvelous company. Then I received a free pop (Mountain Dew--they didn't carry Coke products), was given a baseball cap (that actually fit my pea-sized head), cheered my birthday number (27--Brayan Pena) around the bases, won a dollar, was announced (out of 31,407 people) as the evening's designated driver (and awarded a quality snazzy blue shirt), wore a giant jersey like a dedicated fan (while cheering like one), and had my face blown up on the jumbotron (the largest TV screen in professional sports--80 by 105 feet). My cherry on top was not the illuminating post-game fireworks display or the fact that the Royals won by a single run, but the joy of sharing the entire evening with a certain handsome gentleman dear to my heart.
Nope, Prince William and Kate ain't got nothin' on this. In the end, it's safe to say the KC Royals and I are on our way to being best friends.
Nope, Prince William and Kate ain't got nothin' on this. In the end, it's safe to say the KC Royals and I are on our way to being best friends.
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