Field of Dreams 2 (Fort Meyers Part 5)

Based on a suggestion from a reader, a friend, and an all-around supported of everything I’ve been doing over the past six months, I have decided to go to the Twins home opener on April 11^th. I’m going with two guys that I spent nearly all of my time with in Moose Lake prison. All three of us graduated the boot camp program, and are doing well outside the walls. I’ve never been to opening day. I’ve been to Spring training, and I saw the Reds win the World Series live in 1990 in Oakland. Now that was cool, but it wasn’t the Twins. I’m already eager and it’s over a month away.

Now, where was I? Where were we? What day was it? All good questions that I cannot answer, but I will do my best.

The Twins won the first game we went to against the Baltimore Orioles. We saw Brendan Harris in an O’s uniform and were very confused because we thought he was our guy, and he was until Winter. 

This is a picture of me pointing at my beer gut, something I did regularly back then. Up and to the right in the background you can see the blow-up frame of the Speed Pitch game we had played earlier that day.

 This sums up what I think about these days when I think about that vacation. Baseball and Palm Trees.

 At some point we found our way back to our hotel room to get ready for the night. That night was probably just like every other night, and we spent it drinking cheap beer and watching the night life pass by our bar stools. There were some people from Minnesota as I’m sure you could imagine for this type of event, so there were some folks to talk to about home, and our beloved Twins. My knees were severely sunburned as you can see below from sitting Indian-style on the lawn for three straight hours. It was hard for me to walk for a few days but the alcohol helped me through.

 This was the damage after three, maybe four nights. We had plenty of money, but somehow progressed to Busch Light as our journey progressed.

 This was most definitely the cleanest our room was at any point. I remember at the end, after we took the Do Not Disturb sign down after eight days, we both felt a little guilt at the devastation we had left.

 

At some point during the night, Seth woke up and left the room. I didn't see him again until the morning when I was out on the balcony smoking a cigarette and he stumbled out of the Asian Massage Parlor. Once again, he had a limp, and his hair went in all directions. And once again, of course, none of that is true. We did not have the courage to go into that establishment, although it was a running joke. Seth loved it long time.

I haven't been to a Twins game sober in a very long time. Possibly 2001 when I went with my group from Hazelden. The sights and the smells will most assuredly be triggers for me, but I will be with the guys that helped me get through the worst days in prison. Alcohol will be far off in my mind and  I can focus on baseball. 

My next, and probably last, post about the Fort Meyers expedition will cover autographs, bungled drug deals, and the boys from Philly. We made good friends for a few days down there, and I've got the pictures to prove it!

To be continued... 

Oh, P.S. Here's Seth. I chose this picture because it makes it look like he has no neck.  HAHAHA!!

Seth and his bearfriend, T.C.