For the first time in my life I FINALLY went to watch a Trenton Thunder game (and I am a Jersey girl for heavens sake! Oh the shame, the humanity!) ... Good grief I wish I would have been a bit more cognizant of this team and the stadium before. What great fun ... and to think that a good number of players we watch today in the Bronx came through this team. And what is even more fun, the prices (tickets and merchandise... can you say "$12 t-shirts"?) are a third of what you would pay in Yankee Stadium. AND the food is much much better. My garden burger in Trenton actually had fresh lettuce, tomatoes and onions, while my garden burger in the Bronx looked like a hockey puck on a soggy bun. No lettuce, tomatoes etc.

We were also three rows in from third base so naturally I was able to get a good close look at Brandon Laird - who is freaking hot, by the way. AND Austin Romine was catching - who is also freaking hot by the way. In fact they are ALL freaking hot, including the first base coach! (Who ever that was.) To die for! OH how I wish I was in my early 20s again.

Anyway ... The bloggers keep talking about these two dudes so I am keeping my fingers crossed that they make it big so I can be issued my bragging rights. I mean, how CRAZY would it be if you had seen F.Cervelli or Robbie Cano playing for them a few years ago??

It was also interesting to observe the team in relation to the big leagues ...  for instance an opponent player had ripped his pants midgame and had to play for the rest of the game with this big honking tear in his pants. How crazy is that! And then the minors surely must deal with such low budgets that most of the players need to be hosted by families in the area (at least I know the Phillies' Single A farm team, the Blue Claws, rely on sponsors).

When you think of these huge differences between the minors and the majors, it is no wonder these new kids on the block can be so overwhelmed by their promotions. Particularly the promotion to New York, the center of the universe.

At any rate, I walked away from the game (alas they lost), resolving to do my part for America's favorite past time:  As soon as I can afford a house in New Jersey, I am hosting a minor leaguer.

Who knows, in five years time, perhaps I can say that I lived with the next Phil Hughes.