Never Say Never

Knitting has taken me many places I never expected to go, but none more unexpected than a baseball field. Yup, I went to Stitch 'n' Pitch Chicago last night. I said I wouldn't and I truly believed I wouldn't. But at the last minute there was ticket, and the weather was good, and there was the prospect of An Evening with Knitters. So I went.

You remember Eleanor Roosevelt's line about how you should do something every day that scares you? The game was my Scary Thing for yesterday.

I know. Especially if you're American, you're thinking, scary? What the hell could be scary about something as squeaky-clean, family-oriented and apple pie-esque as a night at the ballpark?

Well, I'm a little gay man who was once a little gay kid. Here's a partial list of things I associate with ballparks based on my personal experiences:

• Being yelled at for not wanting to go to the ballpark.
• Being yelled at for wanting to bring a book to the ballpark.
• Being yelled at for not understanding the game. (I still don't.)
• Being yelled at for not having a great time at the ballpark.
  
• Being called a faggot.
• Being called a wimp.
• Being called a nerd.
• Being called a pansy.
  
• Having a beer thrown at me for inadvertently wearing the colors of the visiting team.
• Watching drunken men in the Fenway Park bleachers simulate anal sex with an inflatable doll in a Yankees jersey.

Some fun.

So I was nervous. Yeah, there would be 300 knitters, but there'd be thousands of non-knitters. And I've seen people I love get weird at sporting events. Belligerent. Especially when they felt I was letting down the team but not knowing what was going on (see "faggot, wimp, nerd, pansy," above).

I am happy to report that last night, I emerged unscathed and unmolested. I even, dare I say it, had fun, although at no point did I actually watch the game–which is probably one of the reasons I had fun. And you know what? The White Sox fans were pretty nice people, and so was the stadium crew.

I had my camera, so here's a little souvenir scrapbook. It was awesome, as always, to see familiar faces and meet stitchers I haven't met before. I even got a chance to talk to Gianofer Fields of Chicago Public Radio, who was there interviewing folks–she's the one in the headset, learning to cast on from Kathy of Arcadia Knitting.

Many thanks to the Chicago committee who put all this together, even though they also all run knitting shops and have way too much to do as it is.

PS. If you go see the White Sox, spend the extra money on the kosher hot dogs, it's worth it.
PPS. The red Stitch 'n' Pitch baseball caps are wicked cute. I will be wearing mine a lot.

Another Sneak Peek

Since you liked the top-secret prototype Ravelry remote, here's another sneak peek from TNNA.

I was sitting around with Clara Parkes and Cat Bordhi in the food court and we were talking about which "Sex in the City" character we most resemble (I'm totally Samantha, while we agreed that Clara is, like, so Charlotte except when she gets all Miranda) when this lady walked by with a big plate of soba noodles and Cat said, "I wonder how those would knit up?" and wandered away and while she was trying to persuade the lady that her lunch would make a kickin' pair of lacy socks, Clara and I accidentally rummaged around in her bag and found this.



And my dears, just wait until you see the centerfold.

Sports News

No, seriously.

I have word that it's not too late to get tickets to this year's Chicago edition of Stitch 'n' Pitch. That's a baseball game plus knitting. The "White Sox" will play the "Tigers" on Wednesday, August 6, at 7:15 pm.

You can get ticket forms at these places:

1. Arcadia Knitting (Chicago - North Side)*
   
2. Loopy Yarns (Chicago - Loop)
3. Three Bags Full Knitting Studio (Northbrook)
4. My Sister's Knits (Chicago - South Side)
5. Chix with Stix (Forest Park)
6. String Theory (Glen Ellyn)
7. Wool and Company (Geneva)
8. Windy City Knitting Guild*
   

Sources with an asterisk also have the form available online for download.

A portion of the proceeds from every ticket will go to the Night Ministry and the Helping Hands Foundation.

No, I won't be there. I'm afraid that living within screaming distance of Wrigley Field hasn't done much to alter the sense of helplessness and despair that overwhelms me when I contemplate spending a couple hours held captive in a stadium seat.

And while we're on the subject–this is a lifelong, very personal shortcoming. It has nothing to do with being gay. I wonder how long it'll take for that stereotype to die?

While hanging around with Tom I've undergone a crash course in baseball and football, because his best gay friends are all sports nuts–the scary kind who own season tickets and quote stats and wear weird necklaces made out of buckeyes. They've all made the effort to learn the difference between merino and cashmere, and have listened attentively to Knitting Camp stories, so I feel it's only polite to respond in kind.

There has been progress. A couple weeks ago at Crew I successfully deduced that:

1. the game on the screen was baseball and
2. the Cubs were "at bat," and
3. the guy holding the "bat" had just "struck out," and
4. this was not a nice thing for the Cubs.

It was akin to the scene in The Miracle Worker when Helen Keller finally makes the connection between water and W-A-T-E-R.

G-O-C-U-B-S-G-O.