www.myspace.com/dixiechicks

Tickets to most Diamondbacks can be had on stubhub for good prices, because there are tens of thousands of them available and very few people willing to go out of their way to see the game live. Ticketholders wander in vaguely aware that the high prices for food and drink indicate the presence of a major league sporting event taking place in the building. The organ music confounds those looking for a church meeting, which actually requests a larger gift of money at the door. A hush comes over the crowd as the roster is announced and the snake animation wriggles across the ample video displays throughout the stadium. This is interrupting our conversation. The stadium is so big and so empty as to make any attempt at accelerating-clap games completely futile. On the other hand, the roving camera that zooms in on fans enjoying the game becomes a democratic and nerve-wracking experience as almost every spectator is featured there, waving crazily one way while trying to face the camera and look cool, before the game ends. There is no way to look at the camera in this scenario, you must look at yourself on the jumbotron and endure the anguish of seeing yourself from the side, knowing that this is not how it should be. On the other hand, once you see yourself up there, the anticipation is over and you have paid your dues for that game in particular.

Unless you are selected to take part in one of the inter-inning advertainments hosted by a quintet of girls wearing rhinestoned D-backs tanktops. I assume they give you time enough in this scenario to run for the hills (remember, in phoenix this is some distance – about 100 miles to the nearest hill) or hide in a bathroom because you have calculated a losing embarrassment-to-irony ratio if you participate in one of their tribal amusements. This troupe (note the spelling) of hotties and thugs running around the park with wireless mics and a video camera can be found on top of the dugouts clapping along to the recorded music or dressing kids in hot dog costumes for virtual races around the bases (where the adverticipants (sounds dirty, is trademarked) run in place and the winner is chosen randomly…and gets a free hotdog kit)(kit?(!)). I have less anxiety about being found by this cabal than by the lone cameraman because of the potential for myspace friendship with the schills.

One of the entertisements featured the Leslie’s Pool Supply right field pool (this is a pool where the bullpens would be in Fenway park). Of course, after they showed on the screen how fun it is to swim in a Leslie’s pool, the young heartthrob (I think his name is Erik Anders or something) of the Dbacks hit a home run into the pool on the very next pitch. This should have netted a payout from Mr. Leslie. I would be willing to secure this for a 10.7% commission, if Mr. Anders (or something) is reading.

Also, read no impact man and grist if you have time.