There weren't any rides, except for a slide I couldn't go on. Everyone was excited, a lot of loud guys were yelling. A year of handlebar mustaches: Rollie Fingers, my dad and a guy in a hot tub. There were fireworks, foam fingers, a home run and a hot dog and I clapped so hard I had to pretend. My mom and I saw Paul Molitor's butt through binoculars, the big ears of the pitcher. We might have tailgated but I thought that meant something like skitching, I got caught in a turnstyle. My mom drove us home.