Bethany Likes Baseball

It's true. It happened last night at Yankee Stadium.

Here's the story. Consistent with his nature, Mr. Miller was very honest about his passion for the Seattle Mariners early in our relationship. Within a month of meeting me, he sent me an e-mail commenting on Arizona's weather, explaining, "It may surprise you that I am abreast of Arizona weather. That is because my Seattle Mariners are playing their Spring Training games in Peoria, AZ." (emphasis added). Noting his use of the possessive, I (hitherto a sports ignoramus) promptly added the Mariners' homepage to my list of favorites and checked it regularly.

That summer, while pursuing me in Arizona, Mr. Miller tutored me in baseball. Together, we attended a number of games at Chase Field, including a game pitting the Diamondbacks against the Mariners. Between my questions and Mr. Miller's patient answers, I learned a little bit about baseball.

To be honest, however, I was worried because I still did not enjoy baseball. When I say "enjoy," I mean liking it as much as shopping, movies, or plays. But then, the season ended and we began focusing on other important things like planning a wedding, classes, and . . . football.

Spring training came, and except for catching a Mariners' game with our wedding party the day before the ceremony, all was quiet on the baseball front. Then the season started. Mr. Miller subscribed to online baseball radio and we began listening to every game. Through aural osmosis, watching his excitement over players and his fantasy team, and reading Mariners-themed blogs with him, I came to have some affection for the Mariners' starters, and, especially, King Felix.

But mild affection became love last night. After Mr. Miller turned in his third (of four) finals, he whisked me away for a special evening he had planned. First, we retraced the walk he used to make from Columbia Law School to Harlem, which begins by walking down a flight of very steep steps along a wall separating Columbia/Manhattan from Harlem.

On the Brink of Harlem

Next, we visited his old apartment in Harlem. It wasn't too scary by daylight, but I was glad to see that he had traded his old apartment with this view:

for our new apartment with this view:

Afterwards, we walked around the corner to have burgers and trans-fat enriched fries at Mama's Fried Chicken, where my husband and his former-roommate and brother, Paul, would eat "only 3-4 times a week," according to Mr. Miller.

Munching on fries, we walked across the Harlem River . . .

and saw this:

Together we entered the stadium. Together we formed the Mariners' Fan Club of Yankee Stadium. We were good because they won!

Almost as important as that victory was the fact that I watched the entire game, agonizing when we were down, wringing my husband's arm during the tense comeback, and even expressing annoyance with the umpires at times. What a miracle! And, I suspect this baseball-thing will only get better from here. I'll let you know after Monday's game.

PS - My husband concluded the night by surprising me with a midnight trip to the Fifth Avenue Apple store where he bought me this.