As a fan of baseball, it’s hard not to attend at least one Phillies game during the season. As a fan of baseball, it’s hard to attend a Phillies game during the season.

When someone gifts you seats right behind the plate, it satisfies the desire to attend a game and it makes watching the Phillies satisfying, all in one fell swoop.

Last night I got to watch the best against the worse and the game played out just as expected. The first place Houston Astros were held in check by the last place Phillies for most of the game. Unfortunately, the Phillies were held in check for the entire game.

When you sit that close to the action, there’s so much more to encounter than the game. It was easy to see that most of the people sitting around me had received their seats as gifts, too. There was a lot of “Are these seats ok?” from the givers, and “This is magnificent!” from the receivers. Most of the folks behaved like they were attending the opera as opposed to a baseball game. Granted, there wasn’t much to cheer for but I need to at least hear someone shout at the ump over a ball and strike at least once. There wasn’t one peep from the guy hocking beer, popcorn, or cotton candy. In fact, he was banned from this section.

In the Diamond Club section, staff is employeed to serve your every desire. I think they’d bring you a Porto-Potty if you had to go bad enough.

When we did have to pee-pee, on the way to the concourse I noticed we didn’t have to go to the concourse. There’s this hidden subterranean underground looking bunker with glass doors call Diamond Club. We stepped in there and found a 5-Star restaurant, sports bar, concession stand, gift shop, and fancy bathrooms in a space surrounded by flat screen TVs making certain you don’t miss a moment of the action on the field that’s only 50 feet away.

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I definitely had a good time in the comfort of my exquisite seats. I could see the pitches come right at me giving me an even greater respect for the curve ball and slider after watching how they wiggle their way to the plate in an attempt to fool the batter.

My favorite moment of the night was a sad moment. A boy about 10 years old was sitting in front of me. By being nosy I learned it was his birthday. He had a few signed pieces of memorabilia but his favorite gift was this fancy multi-colored Phillies hat. He stepped away from the action for a little while (probably to the Diamond Club Kid Zone if they have one) and came back asking his dad if he missed it. His dad said yes. The kid cried.

So now I’m all upset because the kid’s upset, but I don’t know why. All I know is that if anyone should be having a great time at the ballpark, it’s a kid.

And then my investigative nosy ass learned what he missed. The boy’s name came across the big scoreboard with all the other birthday people at the park. The boy missed it. Damn! I’d be crying, too.

They left about an inning before the end of the game and I stopped the kid to wish him a happy birthday. His dad whispered in my ear that he’s kinda glad his son missed his name on the big screen because it was MISSPELLED. If I was keeping the book I give the Phillies organization an error on that play.

I had a great time at the ballpark but I’d much rather sit among the ordinary everyday fan who makes coming to the games just as entertaining as the game itself.

There’s something about having to fetch your own beer; passing popcorn one way down your row while the money comes the other way; getting up 10 times to let folks pass; listening to the know-it-alls who will challenge everything including the players height and weight on the scoreboard; and getting bathroom paper towels out of a dispenser instead of vanity napkins out of a fancy holder on the sink.

Thanks Diamond Club for the experience. Now back to the regularly scheduled program for us normal fans.

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Wifey sporting her bling