BALLPARK FOOD

I don't know why it is, but when I attend a game, I have a tendency not to eat as much as when I'm watching at home. Duh, it's the price is not the reason either. Otherwise I wouldn't cough up $10 for popcorn and a Dew at the movies.

I love the Kosher hotdogs at Busch and the ED. And as my blogging readers know, there simply is no better food at a ballpark than at the BOB, now CHASE in Phoenix. But I usually have one meal/item/entree, I don't know what you'd call it, and that's it. I settle in for the game and enjoy. Sans food or drink.

Now, as a kid, it was a whole different game. Besides the hotdog and soda, there was popcorn and more soda and cracker jack(s). This was in the day. No cotton candy or licorice ropes or caramel apples back then. Not at he ballpark anyway. And what lousy prizes came in cracker jack(s). I mean they were nothing. But every kid I ever saw dug into them like the Hope diamond was hidden in their box. Actually, we had never heard of the Hope diamond, so I guess that wasn't quite accurate. Always disappointed, but never acting so, we played with the goofy prize and desired another box of jack(s) to try again. One time I remember opening the box and finding my prize was a piece of folded paper, much smaller than a stamp, that revealed numbers 1-10. Individually perforated with no stickem on the back. I still don't know what it was for.

I think the name of the dog on the box is Spike, but I know I'm entering Derek's territory here, so I'll back off. All I know is cracker jack(s) have no nutritional value, no good prizes, and as far as taste, well let's just say they are bland. Only the dentists really love them.