Pay no mind to that man behind the 2. I have no idea who that is, but I'd bet money that he was wandering aimlessly around the Rotunda with a novelty beer in his hand. That's how Mets' fans medicate their woes when they are losing 3-0 and have no hope whatsoever of recovering the deficit of runs to win.
We began our climb to our seats. First the escalator, then the stairs, more stairs, a tunnel and low and behold, more stairs. As we began our final ascent up the stairs, the very top of the stadium came into view. Sure enough, we were seated in the very last row of the stadium. That fence behind my FIL, Tony and Coach represents the end of the rows of seats and also kept us from falling to our deaths. I would, at this time, like to thank the Mets' front office for putting that fence in. It would have sucked to fall to my death at a baseball game.
As we walked around scoping out all that Citi Field had to offer, my FIL did the thing that we all yell at our kids for doing. He picked garbage up off the ground. In a public place.
His garbage turned out to be a ticket worth over $4oo. The result of his garbage picking was that he and Bella now have the distinction of sitting in the last row in the stadium and also in one of the top ten rows all during the same game. Which is pretty cool, but I'm still not going to let my kids pick garbage up off the ground.
Thus ends my wild and crazy Friday night. I'm going to go medicate my herpes now. Good Day.