Let’s kick this post off with my #backthatazzup Friday song because it’s one of my favorite things about Friday.  (Have you met Whitney?)  I think my song fits today.

Batter Up by Nelly on Grooveshark

Last week, we reviewed a story about my first real interaction with my husband.  It involved Hawaiian leis and birthdays.  Our first date involved a baseball game and a bet.  It was exactly 8 years ago today.  I’m not the most sentimental person, but I definitely still have the ticket stubs from that game.

We got hot dogs and sat down in our seats.  We enjoyed a fabulous baseball game.  During the first inning, they passed around the All-Star ballots.  This lovely boy (Justin) that I was with thought he was super funny and decided to make a bet with me.  Whoever could pick the most players on the ballot that would actually make the All-Star team that summer would win.  The loser would buy tickets to a Red Sox vs. Twins game.

Sometimes boys underestimate a girl’s knowledge of the sport of Baseball or sports in general.  Justin upped the stakes and if he lost (which he was sure he wouldn’t), he would buy tickets for the game in Boston.

source

I grew up listening to almost every Twin’s game on the radio.  I sat on my dad’s shoulders when the Twins celebrated their 1991 World Series title at the parade.  I watched Kirby Puckett as I waved my Homer Hanky.  I know a thing or two about baseball.

The teams were announced a few months and quite a few dates later.  I won.  Plain and simple.

So, just a few months after we started dating, we both took a risk and boarded a plane to Boston.  We spent a few days exploring the city and falling in love with Fenway and the Red Sox.  I knew from that trip that this was the person I would be watching baseball games with for the rest of my life.

Apparently, this is the week of cheesy posts for me.  SORRY, NOT SORRY.  Also, this might help you understand how we can be both Twins fans and Red Sox fans.

Venus Trapped in Mars