May 7, 2000
Sunday marked the annual Fuji Film Fan Photo day. I am sure this is a day that all of the players just dread. They are asked to parade around the field in their uniforms while 3,000 people with disposable cameras snap off countless pictures. Of course there are a multitude of people who ignore the no autograph rules and beg the players to sign everything from baseballs to shirts, to their arms and legs. This is the third year that I have taken one of the children with me. For the first two years, Mallorie called the game as soon as the schedule came out. This year, Tiffany negotiated the opportunity to go to the game. Armed with her disposable Fuji camera, we headed down to the ballpark. Being a veteran, I knew there would be a line waiting to get in. What I had not anticipated was that people would begin lining up at 7 AM when the gates did not open until 11 AM. By the time we arrived, we were well back in line. Tiffany was disappointed but I assured her that we would be able to get into the park just fine. As the gates opened, me and 2,999 of my closest friends made our way out onto the warning track. The players came by in groups of 3-4 and flashes began to light up the stadium. I have never actually seen a nuclear blast, but I can now envision what the flash of light must look like as the bomb detonates. It amazes me that the players could even play a game after this experience. For the first several innings, all they would probably be able to see was blue dots from all the flashes. Tiffany had a great time and I now have pictures of the players and hundreds of complete strangers. It was truly a Kodak moment.