A few years ago, if you had asked me what one does at a baseball game, I would have said, "Oh, you mean after you find your seats and before the seventh inning stretch?......Your guess is as good as mine. Really. I spend the time looking for the kiss cam. And wishing that A League of Their Own was real."
That was the old me.
I know that you might be hoping that I delve into a discussion about the subtle strategy of baseball and the beautiful simplicity....wait. No one would ever want that (except Uncle Bob, but I'll leave that to him...not saying your boring, but, uh, cough...yeah) I'm coming at you with something far more entertaining: large coordinated cheers.
Koreans have evolved far beyond the wave, and their number one accessory is the thunderstick. The crowd isn't just cheering for your run of the mill homerun, no sir-ee. They cheer for every at bat, every strike, every ball.*
The thundersticks are powerful. I wanted some...and for the cost of about $1.60, I had them. Unfortunately, I couldn't also purchase a working knowledge of Korean and a side of rhythm. After my single experience of a Korean baseball game, I have reached the unquestionable conclusion that the effective use of thundersticks requires the skills of what is known in the business as a "triple threat." One must be able to sing, dance, and act. Slapping two half full inflatables was not quite enough to cut it. I did do enough to earn a team spirit award though, seeing as I managed to make it though a few innings without inadvertenly smacking someone in the face.
*Chin-Hwa has just informed me that Americans cheer for everything, too, but I must have blocked this from my memories of baseball games of yesteryear. I usually block EXTREMELY BORING things, and baseball would be among them.*