Pants Optional

I had my first experience in a Major League clubhouse this past weekend at PNC Park. I'll admit, it was a little intimidating at first. All the big money superstars walking around - wait, never mind. I was in the Pirates clubhouse. That was a cheap shot, sorry.

But I've heard all the stories about how laid back it can be, almost like a social hall in a college dorm. And all those stories were true. Well, minus the half naked guys walking around. I don't know what kind of college you went to, but it didn't go down like that at Pitt.

The following 17 lines in no way contain any valuable advice for anyone. It might actually make you dumber by reading it. So please, feel free to skip to the asterisk if you are looking to learn anything.

The first night I went was a Friday when the Penguins happened to be playing a playoff game right down the street. There were almost as many people in the press box as there were in the stands (I counted ten. Not ten thousand. Ten.) And there were even fewer in the clubhouse before the game. In fact, I was the only one. It might have something to do with the fact that I got there at 4:00 for a 7:05 game. As I waited for the one player I needed to talk to for the story I was writing, I took notice of the following surroundings.

• Baseball players don't like to wear pants.
• About 95% of players chew tobacco (which is fine by me).
• The Latin players like to play checkers, and the winner usually rubs it in by pulling down his pants and mooning the loser.
• Baseball players don't like to wear pants. Did I say that already?

With the exception of strippers, what other profession has the option of not wearing pants at the workplace? I know I'm jealous. Although, I would be a little embarrassed by my cartoon boxers with little baseball on them. But I feel like I've given you the reader too much information.

Annyywayyss, back to my main story. The player I needed to talk to ended up disappearing and no one could find him. But, thankfully I also had a press pass for the Sunday afternoon game, too. And luckily, I caught him then.

* And now to put a Danny Tanner-like lesson on this particular blog. Usually when I go to games or press conferences, I don't talk to anyone. But I was feeling frisky this time, so I started a conversation with the reporter next to me. His name was Max and he just happened to own his own website and radio station. He also just happened to be looking for a freelance writer to cover a few local sports stories. He asked for my information and said he would be in touch.

Nothing would have happened if I didn't introduce myself. Who knows what can come from this? Maybe I'll get a few assignments. Maybe I can make some extra cash and eventually move out of my parents house. Maybe he'll make me part owner of his website?

There is actually a better chance of him making me part owner of his website. If I move out of my house who would do my laundry?