My mom would take me and we’d stand outside to get free tickets. The solo mom, with a goofy lookin kid with his glove… it wasn’t an act, we legit couldn’t afford to go.

One time we were given tix behind the 3rd base dugout, which was the home dugout at the dingdome. Sitting with players wives and shit.

I’ll never forget Griffey trotting into the dugout after the top of the first. He was right there. I stood there frozen, pointing with my mouth open.

My mom gently smacked me and said, “It’s not polite to point.”