|The Hand at Broncos' game|
|The Hand does a Bud at the game|
I was glad I took a glove. I had never caught I foul ball before. It was actually kinda cool.
|The foul ball I caught|
|Jose Canseco in the Bronco's dugout|
In all sincerity, seeing Canseco play in person was a pretty cool event. The ten year old inside me was having a sweet blast and I could not help but search the field for Mark McGwire or Rickey Henderson and the other Oakland A's of 1989. That was a rad year.
However, as I finished my second Bud and as the fifth inning came to a close, a disturbing memory blasted back into my soul and I remembered why I have such a deep hatred and resentment toward Jose Canseco and his baseball-head bouncing ways. The foul memory opened a deep wound in heart that I believed, errenously, had been healed. That, however, was not the case.
In the next week, you can read about said event in my life. Hopefully, I can bring myself to write about it. It just might be therapeutical.