It's a dream of mine to visit every Major League stadium at some point in my life, and the Average Joe got to knock one more name off the list last Saturday in Washington, D,C.  RFK Stadium played host to the Washington Nationals, the San Diego Padres, the Joe and the Buyer in what turned out to be a very entertaining game, at least for us.

The Buyer is an old friend of mine who now lives in D.C.  We'll call him that for several reasons, not the least of which is his incredible proclivity at spending money.  This man never lets money burn a hole in his pocket.  If he wants it and can get it, he'll buy it, come hell or high water.  Whether it's useful or not, he'll buy just about anything.   

Saturday's game was fun for several reasons, most of which are the result of our lack of interest in the game itself.  Since neither of us had any real allegiance to the teams, we didn't hurry to make first pitch, lingering in the parking lot instead until the bottom of the second.  That gave us plenty of drinking time, and allowed the late-arriving crowd to get mostly settled.  That was important because neither of us had any intention of either paying much for tickets or sitting where those tickets told us to go.

So we stumbled up to the gate quite a few beers into our evening.  I had never been to RFK, for football or baseball, and I love seeing new places.  I was taken aback immediately at how far stadium design has changed in the 30-something years since RFK was erected a stone's throw from the ghetto.  The official team store and the ticket office are both contained in trailers just outside the structure.  No fancy merchandising shop, just trailers.  After requesting the cheapest tickets and getting a pair of $7 beauties, I proceeded to walk straight past the "security" team without even needing to flash a ticket at all.  Had the Buyer not been apprehended, I would have completed my first successful gate crash at an MLB venue.  It was not to be, though, as the Buyer violated Entering Places You're Not Supposed To Be Rule No. 1:  Act like you know what you're doing, walk confidently and don't look back.

The Buyer hesitated, and thus was caught.  He then broke Rule No. 2: Never out your partner.  Instead of taking one for the team, he yelled at me, so we both got directed to the ticket gate.  Once inside, I gave him the pep talk.  Just follow me and act like you know what you're doing, I told him.  We hit the beer line, which was amazingly short, and headed straight past the usher, who never flinched, to the best lower-level seats we could easily find on the third-base side.  There we were, beer in hand, sitting in great seats that we had paid $7 for, having a blast.

But the fun was just beginning.  It took us about four seconds to notice a disproportionately high number of hot young ladies sitting in close proximity to us.  All single.  No boyfriends, just hot women.  In startlingly bountiful numbers.  And then it hit me - we had stumbled into the player family section!  At first I couldn't believe that we had just happened upon it, so I had to get some verification.  It didn't take long.  All I had to do was chat up Vinny Castilla's wife, who was sitting right next to me.  She was the one who tipped me off in the first pace, because she seemed overly happy when he hit a homer and overly concerned when he grounded out.

"You sure seem like a huge Vinny Castilla fan," the Joe said.

"I am," she answered. "He's my husband."

Bingo.  We chatted on and off throughout the game.  She met Vinny in Colorado when he played for the Rockies.  She seemed like a very nice person, which complemented her stunning looks as well.  Her kids were well-behaved too.  After a couple more beers, I was glad that my attempts to get the Buyer to hit on some of these women were unsuccessful.  He was, too, noting that there are probably less than 500 men in America who could roll up and pick up a Major Leaguer's wife or girlfriend while she's at his game.    

The Nationals lost, but the game was close.  I got to see Trevor Hoffman do his thing, and the overall atmosphere was great.  It was fascinating to watch the player families interact.  There were cliques, some nice people, and some who seemed like snobs.  All in all, it was a lot like high school.  We put back as many beers as we could, and I can now proudly say that my ass has been in contact with some hot Major League girlfriend's head after I bumped her in my haste to catch the beer man.    

All in all, it was a great stadium experience.  If you're ever in D.C. and want to check out a Nationals game, ease your way into Section 319.  And tell 'em Average Joe sent you.