GO CYCLONES!

We recently partook in one of the most American of American pursuits - watching a professional baseball game.  Overlooking the famous Coney Island Funfair and the misty Atlantic Ocean, we sat, beers in hand, watching our local Minor League team, the Brooklyn Cyclones, lose to the Batavia Muckdogs on the third and final night of play.  The cheer leaders cheered, random musical interludes and organ "wind-ups" filled the gaps in play, and various energetic mascots, including a seagull, a king and a pirate, kept the crowd entertained.  Aside from the game, there were competitions, raffles, a fancy dress contest for the kids, a game of apple bobbing and a running race between three poor souls dressed as Coney Island hotdogs. 

Although we were quite confused as to the exact rules of the game, the hand signals and foul criteria etc, and could not understand why the players more often miss the ball than actually hit it, the excitement roused at the satisfying thud of leather on wood and the subsequent sight of the tiny ball soaring out over the field as players run, dive and slide around the bases, was thoroughly infectious.

Let's go Cyclones, let's go!