#turnstile stadium

[sendmyresignation]

it was really funny the dude who did my tattoo yesterday asked me about my other tat (bc he wanted to know how worried he should be about doing my stomach lmao) and was like. why does jet black feeling sound familiar.... anyway turns out he saw mcr in cinci for turnstile DHDKFHF

[szrssecurityswingturnstile]

servo motor slim turnstile doors likewise called security swing barriers doors, which comes from the gain access to control system, is among the crucial elements of modern entryway and exit control. The door wings are driven by the control system and open and close instantly. The operating mode can be chosen through programs settings: As quickly as it is confirmed that the person entering is licensed, the door wings open automatically. It closes after a hold-up, and the delay time is adjustable. Common dc brushless glass gates are divided into scissor doors (city flap gates door) and swing doors. (1) Scissor doors are often utilized in rail transit, and common scissor doors are mainly utilized in subways and other locations. The door wings extend from the inside of the box, which can effectively seal the passage and play the role of access control. In addition, an infrared picking up device is set up inside the door body, which can understand the function of "a single person, one card" for people to go through. (2) The swing door appeared behind the scissor door and belongs to the second generation servo motor slim turnstile barrier. Such dc brushless glass turnstile doors is that the door wings run in the front and back direction. The operation procedure is within the human body's line of sight, which is safer. In addition, considering that the door wings do not need to be pulled back into package, The styles of swing doors are more different. Due to the above qualities, swing doors are typically used in banks, business buildings, high-end office complex, etc. Anti-trailing function: There is a total infrared light band detection area in the channel. The switch state can be changed by software according to the consumer's precision requirements. The application of the light band to adapt to various requirements prevents the drawbacks of point-type infrared detectors that are quickly contaminated and impacts the dependability of judgment, and can efficiently evaluate the future. Tag reader who checks out the card. When the system figures out that tailgating has occurred, the system will react based on the area of the legitimate cardholder returned by the infrared detector. After the door opening signal is sent, there are still some irregular uses that will set off an alarm.

[szrssecurity]

Swing Barrier Turnstile is typically called a slap door in the rail transit industry. Its barrier body (gate pendulum) is in the type of an aircraft with a particular location, perpendicular to the ground, and swings through rotation Implement blocking and release. The materials of the blocking body are frequently stainless-steel, organic glass, and tempered glass. Some also use metal plates covered with special flexible materials (to lower the damage brought on by striking pedestrians). Bridge Smart Swing Gate Gate The more popular name has been inherited from the original bridge-shaped structure. It includes a main chassis and two movable swing bars. The swing bars can swing 180 ° or 90 ° to accomplish the function of preventing or releasing. Column Swing Door Turnstile The appearance of the main equipment remains in the kind of a column, which can perform the very same functions as the bridge type Swing Gate Gate. It is identified by lower cost and less area. RS Security Co., Ltd Main Products: tripod turnstile gate, flap gate, complete height gate, swing gate, hydraulic bollard, roadway blocker, gain access to control, face acknowledgment, barrier gate and so on. Application of Swing Door Turnstile It is primarily used for passage entrance and exit management. Normally, only people are permitted to pass through, or people dragging baggage, and disabled people. Thinking about that Swing Door Turnstile can achieve larger channel qualities than wing gates. A lot of Swing Barrier Turnstile passages can be mixed with pedestrians, bikes, mopeds, handicapped cars and other non-motorized vehicles. element Swing Gate structural structure: Swing Turnstile includes chassis, movement, swing arm, control system, infrared sensor, It includes control devices and other parts. High-end brake Swing Turnstile consists of: chassis, brake motion, control system, infrared sensor, control equipment and other parts (high-end brake Swing Gate is that it can stop rapidly and efficiently, there is no shaking, no mechanical stuck structure, and the swing arm automatically opens after power failure. It fully abides by fire defense requirements).

[tripodturnstile]

three rollers turnstiles barirer from RS Security Co., Ltd(www.szrssecurity.com) Ideal for all types of public locations that require organized passage of pedestrians, such as scenic spots, exhibition halls, movie theaters, docks, train stations, bus stations and other places that require ticket confirmation; locations that require authorized entry such as factory presence, canteen consumption, golf courses, regular monthly card leisure centers, etc; anti-static control areas of electronic factories, units that require rigorous security steps such as face acknowledgment and fingerprint recognition. RS Security Co., Ltd generally produces, establishes and sells access control products, such as waist height turnstile barrier, subway flap turnstile door, dc brushless swing gates turnstile, translation gates barrier, drop arm turnstiles barrier, complete body turnstile door, half high turnstiles barrier, speed turnstile door and other channel gates gate products, and barrier gate, facial face acknowledgment electronic camera, hydraulic bollard, roadway blockers three arms turnstile gate Integrated electronic tickets, access control and attendance, club consumption/catering, anti-static, finger print, palm print, face acknowledgment, iris acknowledgment Integrated application of other series of products; complete stainless steel frame structure, Taibang motor, separately established and produced motion; one-way/two-way turnstile barirer/ swipe to release the lever button and the upper lever is optional, with Counting function can understand RS485 direct communication with the computer system; tripod turnstiles barirer prompts and direction and alarm triggers; automated fall of the pole when power is off and manual fall The pole is optional, and it receives the switch signal to open turnstile barirer; it can be geared up with a card reading control part, and multiple units can be connected to the network; it can be equipped with magnetic card and distance card mix approaches; it can be purchased according to various functional requirements. Do. A completely rainproof box made from alloy aluminum or stainless-steel, compared to the subway flap turnstile gate servo motor swing turnstile gate and other pedestrian passage equipment, three rollers turnstile gate are more economical. It has an individualized installation interface (such as card reader, indicator light installation, etc) to ensure that the system integrator's control turnstile gate devices is simple and practical to install. The movement of the three-stick turnstiles barirer device has an immediately adjusted hydraulic shock absorber. When utilizing the three-stick gates gate operation, the noise is very little and quiet. Impact, turnstile door bar automatically decelerates back to center. The surface area of the motion is plated with yellow dichromate. Can be set with turnstile door device control, a couple of instructions control (set by user). The base is repaired with expansion bolts.

[weliketheiroldstuff]

Blink-182, Turnstile, and Beauty School Dropout pack out Little Caesar's Arena

Welp, we finally did it. We took a DIY Blog to the arena level. We had our V-card taken by none other than Blink-182. They brought along Turnstile and Beauty School Dropout. Although it wasn’t photo pit and we had to photograph in the aisle next to FOH, it was an absolute dream to get to this level. What’s next? I don’t know. But taking this from buying a domain and creating a website with a cult following to getting to the arena level, all on the backs of the DIY hardcore and punk ethics… I’m very proud of myself and how far we have come since 2018 but also before then. Check out the photos below!

GRAPHIC EDITS AND COLLAGES

[something-tofightfor]

On Deck Part 1: Hot Corner

Pairing: Jack Daniels x Female Reader Baseball AU

Word Count: 8,117

Rating: M (language, general adult thoughts, etc.)

Summary: Taking your best friend's little brother to a minor leage game to see his favorite player just might lead to a lot of changes in your life.

And you're ready.

Author’s notes: 

This story has been in progress for more than two years. I've written about Baseball Jack many times before ... but only the "after". It's time to see how - and where - it all began.

(On Deck universe masterlist for all the extras!)

Thank you to everyone that convinced me to work on this and to keep this pairing going / to flesh them out more. I have had so much fun with this because I have such a love for the MLB (and the men who play in the league) - and I'm so excited to share it.

While there are a lot of baseball references within this story, you only need to know the basics to enjoy it and understand them - we're not getting overrly technical here.

As always, if you have any questions or comments, please feel free to reach out. I hope you enjoy this as much as I am.

Third base is often called the ‘hot corner’ due to the prevalence of right handed hitters - and subsequent on-field action - in the league. The third baseman is typically the infield position player closest to the batter, so to excel in this position, players need to display quick reaction times and exceptional hand-eye coordination. 

“We’re going to be late.” He stood next to you, arms crossed over his chest. “We still have to walk to the stadium.” 

“Caleb.” You sighed, closing and then locking the car door before sticking your keys into the small bag you’d bought specifically for games. “We’re here. We’re parked. The stadium is right there.” Pointing with one finger, you raised a brow and grinned. “The parking lot is only half full, and we’ve already got seats, so -”

“Yeah, but we’re going to miss warm ups and the pregame.” He rolled his eyes, turning away from you and heading toward the ballpark. “And those are the best parts.” 

You agreed, but for a very different reason than the twelve year old you were with. 

You’d been to games with him and Erin before. You and your friend sat a few rows back while the pre-teen hurried down to field level, a baseball and a pen clutched in one hand, hoping to meet at least one of the players after they’d finished warming up and stretching. 

From your vantage point, the two of you had been free to whisper about the players - pointing out the way their uniforms fit, discussing whether or not their asses were in mid-season form yet, or even commenting on the stretches they chose to warm up with before the game. Typically, you didn’t have a thing for men in uniform - but baseball pants were a different story. 

You loved the game, and had been visiting The Distillery - your local team’s home park - since you were a child, attending games with your family and friends and even dates as the years passed. Baseball games were the perfect summer activity no matter who you were with, and that was even true when your company was the younger brother of your best friend… and the game wasn’t a Major League competition. 

“She’s got the tickets.” He made the announcement when you reached the gates, the boy pointing back over his shoulder at you. “Two of them.” You smiled at the attendant, sliding your unzipped bag across the table so she could search it, and then returned your eyes to Caleb. He’d already removed his ballcap and the wallet he carried, pushing them forward and stepping through the metal detector. 

“He’s excited, hmm?” 

“Yeah.” Letting her scan the ticket barcodes, you laughed. “He really is.” Caleb waited for you to follow him through the turnstiles, his hat flipped backwards on his head, and you could see the impatience on his face. “Caleb, do you want to get something to eat before we -”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not yet. Before the game starts, but …” He glanced over his shoulder and you looked down at the field, where the grounds crew were still getting everything ready. “Can we go down there? I want to try and meet him. He’s playing today. They said it on the news.”

“Go.” Your smile widened, head moving up and down in a nod. “I’m right behind you, kid.” 

Caleb took off running toward the stairs that led down toward the third base line, and you followed him slowly, taking your time and eyeing the seating situation. There were people already waiting; a handful of kids and their parents, along with a few women that looked to be your age or a little younger, but there were still plenty of seats open adjacent to the field. 

You sat closer than you normally would have, deciding to take a seat in the row directly behind the boy. Just in case. For the next ten minutes, you paid no attention to the field, instead scrolling through social media and waiting, the music pumping through the speakers fading to background noise as you mindlessly browsed and clicked ‘like’ on a few posts. 

You also let Erin know that you’d made it to the game, and that Caleb was exactly where he wanted to be. But when you glanced up, ready to take a picture to send to her, you were distracted by the sight of the team taking the field. Caleb was too, the boy bouncing up and down in place as he leaned forward, resting his hands on the low wall in front of him. 

You watched for a few minutes - eyeing the players as they did their sprints and stretches, your lips twisting into a small smile at the sight of some of them utilizing their trainers for extra resistance during a few of the exercises. “He’s not here.” Caleb turned back to look at you, disappointment on his face. “Why isn’t he here?”

“Maybe he’ll come out late.” You shrugged, still looking at the field. “You never know, kiddo. You said he’s in the lineup, right?” 

“Yeah.” He turned back to the field, leaning forward. “They talked on the radio about how he was coming back today, because they want him to back in Louisville by the end of next week, and -” Caleb stopped mid sentence, straightening up. “There he is!” 

You couldn’t help it, your attention snapping in the direction that he was pointing. Sure enough, Jack Daniels and one of the trainers - a woman with short, dark hair and glasses - were taking the field to a low chorus of cheers, many of them coming from the section you were sitting in. There he is. 

Despite yourself, you leaned forward to watch him, staring as Jack began his warm up. He started with a few stretches - knee hugs and focusing on his quads, carefully extending and testing his arms, and then bent forward at the waist, the man almost able to press his palms flat against the ground without bending his knees. 

You didn’t take your eyes off of him, because like Caleb, one of the reasons you liked going to the Statesman games was looking at Jack Daniels. And there’s so much to look at.

The trainer watched him closely as he continued to warm up, speeding up his movements and then doing a series of static stretches. But when Jack started to do lunges, you actively fought back a groan, settling against the backrest of your seat and chewing on your lower lip. That’s hot as fuck. 

He looked healthy, and you were happy to see it, because the truth was that the Statesman needed him to be. “He didn’t warm up yesterday.” You turned your head toward the voice, watching as another woman next to you stared at Jack, her smile wide. “He stretched a little, and took batting practice, but he didn’t warm up.” 

“Oh, you were here yesterday, too?” She nodded, and when you glanced back at the field, you saw that Jack and the trainer had switched to more arm exercises, warming up the muscles of his upper body. 

“He pinch hit late in the game.” She leaned forward, her smile widening as she watched Jack start arm circles, the trainer standing a few feet away from him with her arms crossed. “So I knew he’d play today. And that’s why I’m here.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Gonna shoot my shot when he comes over here to sign for the kids. Why not, right? We both know he goes for it sometimes.” 

The girl was pretty - and definitely dressed to get his attention. She wore one of his t-shirts artfully slashed to show off her cleavage and had her legs on display in a pair of cutoff denim shorts. Good for her. “Yeah, why not.” You smiled, turning your head away from where the players were sprinting into the outfield and back to give her your full attention. “Even if he’ll be back in Louisville pretty soon, you might as well. See what happens.”

“It’s only 40 minutes away.” She shrugged, looking out and pointing at where the man was laying on the field, one knee bent and his other ankle resting against the top of it. The trainer was applying extra resistance, and you hummed in approval as you watched. I wish I was that trainer.  “I’d drive there if I needed to.” 

Her eagerness didn’t surprise you. Jack was a notably eligible bachelor, and one of the most desirable men on the team. Unlike the others, though, he didn’t often publicly date. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t hook up. And … You returned your attention to the field, watching as he stopped to talk to the woman, pointing at the front of his left shoulder and grinning. And I’m sure he’s got his pick in every city he visits. 

“Oh, I think they’re coming over now.” 

She adjusted her shirt and you watched her posture change, the woman’s shoulders straightening and her smile widening. Instead of staring at Jack’s strut toward the seats, you looked at Caleb. The boy was buzzing with excitement as he turned toward where the man was headed - about ten people to your left, where a small crowd had gathered. “Do you think he’ll come over?” Caleb said your name, frowning. “There’s not much time, and -”

“He will.” You leaned in, reaching out to touch his arm. “You’re wearing one of his shirts, right? He’s gotta stop for you.” Caleb grinned, turning back toward the field, though he kept his head turned to the left. 

You watched Jack then, smiling as he interacted with the fans. He signed autographs and posed for a few pictures, his smile genuine. But you noticed that he was really only focused on the kids and teenagers, spending more than a few seconds with them instead of moving along as quickly as was politely possible the way he did with adults. He took pictures with a few women, the man leaning in but keeping both hands behind his back. He puts his hands on the kids’ shoulders, but doesn’t touch the women… interesting. 

“Keep your phone out. I’m gonna need you to take a picture.” Caleb was excited, the boy happier than you ever remembered seeing him. You laughed but did as he asked, leaning to the right and angling the phone so that you could snap a picture of the two of them, though Jack was barely in the frame. 

The girl next to you leaned forward when he was only a person or two away, and then seemed to second guess that decision. You bit back a laugh as she stood and climbed over the seats, standing next to Caleb and effectively blocking your view of the man on the field. Gee, thanks.

He finished with the little girl that he’d been speaking to, handing her back a signed baseball and a pen, and then took a step to the side and in front of the woman, saying hello. 

Clearly hearing his voice in person shocked you - the man’s accent thick, even in the few words he spoke. You desperately wished that you could see him, but you didn’t want to shift in your seat and draw attention to yourself. I’ll see him when he talks to Caleb.

“I heard you were playing and had to come today.” She leaned forward, fingertips resting against the wall. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen you.”

“Yeah?” He laughed, reaching up to pull his hat off and then set it back down on his head, taking a few seconds to think. You caught a glimpse of the bullseye tattoo on his hand, biting down on your lower lip at the sight. “Well thank you for comin’ out. It’s good to be back on the field.” The woman giggled and then held her phone up, tilting her head to the side. 

“Can we get a picture? I’ll tag you in it on Instagram, and -”

“Sure.” You watched as the woman spun around and then leaned backwards, holding her phone up to take a selfie. “Hope it’s a good one.” He smiled, peering at the phone from over her shoulder, and you fought back a roll of your eyes at how wide and practiced her smile was - the woman’s head cocked to the side - and toward his. 

When she straightened up, he took a half step toward Caleb, already tipping his head down and toward the boy. But the woman spoke up before he could fully move on, reaching out to touch his arm. “Thank you, Jack. You have no idea how much I -” He flinched - just barely, but you saw it, his shoulder jerking back slightly as her fingertips made contact.

“No problem. Thank you, and enjoy the game.” She stiffened, but you didn’t focus on that. You turned your attention to the boy in front of you - and in turn, Jack, whose face split into a grin, the man’s dimple on display, even beneath the shade from the brim of his hat. “Well hi there. I’m Jack, what’s your name?” 

“Caleb.” He leaned forward and you opened your camera app again, your smile widening, too. Caleb’s going to be so excited later. “I had tickets to see you play in Louisville and then you got hurt and I didn’t know if you’d be back this season but then my mom bought me tickets for today after I found out you were going to play again, and so we drove all the way here -” 

“Slow down there, big guy.” Jack laughed, giving you a glimpse of his teeth, and then gestured to Caleb’s hand, the boy holding a Sharpie tightly. “You want me to sign somethin’ for you?” 

“Yeah. This ticket, please.” Caleb held the marker out, looking up at Jack. “And I’ve got your jersey, but it was too hot to wear it today, so I picked this t-shirt instead.” 

“Of course I will.” He nodded, taking the Sharpie and the paper, scrawling his name across the front of it. “Turn around and I’ll sign real big on the number on the back.” Caleb spun around and you were thrilled to see that he was almost delirious with excitement, his eyes wide and his smile nearly splitting his face in two. 

“Can I take a picture of you signing for him?” Jack glanced up at the sound of your voice, his smile faltering for a split second and a confused look passing over his features. “I didn’t want to just do it and have the flash go off, and…”

“Go right ahead.” He smiled again, giving you a nod. “Thank you for askin’.” It only took a few seconds for him to sign, but you took multiple pictures, and then as Jack capped the marker, you decided to speak up again, not wanting to make Caleb ask. 

“And can I get one of the two of you looking at the camera before he turns around again?’

“You’ve already got your phone out.” Jack smirked at you, and then reached up to tilt the brim of his hat back, showing you more of his face. Holy shit, look at him. “I’m more’n happy to take a picture with my new buddy Caleb.” 

You couldn’t help smiling at that, and when Jack settled his hand - the Sharpie poking out from between his fingers - against the boy’s shoulder and squeezed, it widened. “Got it.” You lowered the device, mouthing the words ‘thank you’ at Jack at the same time Caleb spoke them out loud, turning back to face the man. 

There were only two more kids to the right of you waiting to talk to Jack, but before moving to them, he hesitated, looking between you and the boy. “Where are you and your mom sitting today, Caleb?”  Mom? Do I really look like -

“She’s not my mom, she’s my sister’s friend. And we’re over there.” He pointed at the outfield. “Somewhere.” Why is he asking? 

“The section right at the end of the dugout.” Jack pointed, but looked directly at you. “First row. Aisle seats, 23 and 24. They’re mine, and if you want ‘em, today they’re yours.” 

“What? Jack, that -” 

“I’ve gotta go.” He nodded, looking at Caleb and grinning, and then back at you, his smile softening. “Enjoy the game.” He didn’t say anything else before he stepped down the field and then stopped to talk to the other kids waiting. What the fuck just … “That was so cool!” Caleb spun back to look at you, his eyes wide. “He signed my shirt and took a picture with me and now we get to sit in his seats, and -”

“Caleb.” You took a breath, still trying to process what had happened in the previous few minutes. “I don’t -” 

“We’re going to sit in them, right?” You didn’t know how to answer him. Should we? You sighed and then looked to your right, watching as Jack signed a baseball and handed it back to a little girl before laughing with an older man that was with her. “I mean he told us to, and -” 

“I definitely would.” The girl next to you spoke up, and when you looked over, you saw that she was jealous, her eyes narrowed as they looked you over. “Do you know him? Is that -”

“I’ve never spoken to that man before just now.” You shrugged, unsure of what else to say. “I have no idea what … or why, or …” You would have been lying if you’d said that no part of you was a little smug at the fact  that he’d offered the seats to you and not to her, but you didn’t want to be that woman. “He must have liked you, Caleb.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” She rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Whatever. I’ll just see him after the game at the players’ parking lot.” She stood then, but didn’t say anything else before she spun away from you and headed down the row and toward the aisle. 

Caleb watched her go, his head tilted to one side.“What crawled up her butt?” You snorted at his question but there was no way you could give him an actual answer - so you gave him a partial one. 

“She’s probably just sad that you get to have a great view of the game tonight, kiddo.” With a sigh, you stood up, sliding your phone back into your bag and zipping it. You looked at Jack, watching as he said goodbye to the last of the fans and then headed for the dugout. 

But he didn’t go straight there - instead, he stopped and spoke to one of the security guards, pointing at the stands. Oh, he’s… And then you were stunned when both men looked back in your direction, Jack raising one arm to point at you while nodding. The security guard caught your eye and nodded too, and you then watched as Jack gently smacked him on the arm and smiled again, finally turning away to disappear back into the dugout. 

“Can we go and see the seats? And can I get french fries? Will you send the picture to my mom? And Erin? And -” He was excited - and you couldn’t blame him - but you still laughed, gesturing for Caleb to follow you down the row and toward the opposite aisle, closer to your new seats. 

“Yeah. We’ll do all that. Let’s go.” 

There was plenty of room for the two of you to walk to where Jack had indicated, and when you got close, the same security guard that Jack had spoken to stepped forward, gesturing with one hand. “You’re right here tonight.” 

You thanked him, letting Caleb choose which seat he wanted, and when you dropped into the remaining one, you pulled your phone out again as the boy leaned forward, resting his elbows on the back of the wall in front of him. 

You had just enough time to send off a few quick texts to Erin - the pictures of Caleb and Jack, as well as one that you took from the seat and a message that said we got upgraded, I’ll explain later before the National Anthem started. 

You rose to your feet again, keeping your eyes on the field. Once the music faded and the announcer began to give the starting lineups, you were excited, your smile just as wide as Caleb’s. 

And when they announced Jack and the man trotted out onto the field to even more cheers from the crowd, you clapped along with them, pulse quickening. I love watching him play. 

He and the shortstop tossed a ball back and forth a few times while the pitcher made his way from the bullpen, and the grin never left the dark haired man’s face. By the time the ump signaled the start of the game, he was settled in place and standing a little behind the bag, knees spread and both hands resting on his thighs. 

It took a few batters for him to see any action, and when you heard the crack of the bat, Jack sprung into motion, moving toward second and bending over to scoop the ball off the infield before tossing it to first for the out. 

You cheered just as loudly as Caleb did, clapping your hands without looking away from the field - but you weren’t expecting to catch Jack’s eye when he turned to move back into place at third… and you definitely weren’t expecting him to grin at the sight of you. 

The moment was over quickly, and as the players ran off the field after the third out, you turned to Caleb, clearing your throat. “You said you wanted fries?” 

— 

You made it back to your seats just in time to watch the bottom of the second, both of you carrying a drink and a snack. Jack was batting 8th, so there was a good chance he wouldn’t hit until the next inning, giving you time to eat before he headed to the plate. 

You also checked your messages, a series of exclamation points from Erin and a thumbs up from her mother the only two you had waiting. You showed Caleb, the boy laughing and then scrolling up to look at the picture of him and Jack, his smile so broad that you thought it must have hurt. 

There were no seats in front of you, which meant that you had an unobstructed view when the man finally headed to the plate, the familiar sound of his walkup music - Hungry Like The Wolf - blaring through the stadium’s speakers. Here we go. C’mon, Jack. 

He took a few practice swings and you were relieved to see that he didn’t wince or hesitate. His swing looked comfortable, and when you leaned forward, resting your hands on your knees, you nodded as he took another, pointing the bat outward before settling it on his shoulder and waiting. 

He swung at the first two pitches, making contact on the second one and hitting a long foul down the first base line. But Jack ended up walking, taking his place on first and then getting into position as the catcher stepped to the plate. 

You watched him closely - taking in the way the dark blue jersey fit him, the V of upper chest skin - and a peek of the gold chain he wore - visible thanks to two of the buttons being undone, his socks pulled high to accentuate his muscled calves. He always looks fucking great. 

You knew it meant nothing that he’d offered you and Caleb his seats that day - that he’d just done it to be nice. But you would have been lying to yourself if you said that it didn’t make you feel good, Jack’s momentary attention a confidence boost, especially after the reception he’d given the woman next to you. 

The batter hit a single, and when Jack advanced to second and stopped, you cheered again, the man clapping his hands and shouting something that you couldn’t hear at his teammate. But it was all for nothing, because the following player popped out, ending the inning. 

Jack trotted across the field and toward the dugout, the disappointment on his face evident - but again, when he saw you he smiled, the expression only there briefly … though you certainly didn’t miss it. 

As you settled back against the seat, halfway listening to Caleb as he recounted team stats, you wondered why Jack was making so much of an effort when nothing would come of it. You thought of the woman’s comment about the players lot, wondering just how likely it was that you’d be able to meet him if you went, too. But not with Caleb here. 

The night would be a good memory at least - for both you and the boy, and that would have to be enough. 

By the time Jack stepped to the plate, you were more than ready. The setting sun shaded the sky in hues of orange and purple, the stadium’s lights brightening up the field. Your eyes flicked from where Jack stood to the scoreboard, scanning over the information about him that was displayed there and lingering on the giant image of his smiling face. 

But when you heard the groan of the crowd, your attention snapped back to home plate, where Jack was arguing with the umpire over the previous call, his head shaking back and forth. He stepped back into the box, but you could see his irritation, though it didn’t last for long.

He swung on the next pitch and made contact again, sending the ball straight through between first and second. It rolled halfway into the outfield before anyone got to it, and you got to your feet and cheered, the sound signaling that a run scored loud through the speakers. Not only had he gotten his first hit after the injury, but he’d batted someone in, giving the Cavalry the lead. 

And when the next player swung hard, sending the ball up and out and over the center field wall, the stadium erupted - Jack raising his arm and pumping his fist as he rounded third, before stopping to wait for his teammate to make it home. They celebrated for a few seconds and then off the field, and you slung an arm around Caleb as both of you cheered, too. 

They took a three run lead into the next inning, and then handled their business, setting the batters down 1-2-3 thanks to a double play that Jack initiated. You could see his confidence in every movement; his body remembering exactly what he needed to do to be successful on the field even after weeks away. And he’s good at it, too. That makes a difference.  

Caleb left the seats to fill up his cup from the fountain at the top of your section, and by the time he came back the game had started again. It was a productive inning. You spent more of it on your feet than sitting, joining the crowd in cheering as the Cavalry scored three more runs. But when Jack’s turn to bat came, you realized what the celebration meant. 

“They took him out.” You looked down at Caleb, watching as he frowned. “They’ve got such a lead, that it’s better to rest him, and …” 

“That’s stupid.” Caleb crossed his arms, sighing. “He only batted twice.” You agreed, but you also weren’t the manager of a baseball team. You figured he had a better idea of what the right strategy was when it came to Jack’s rehab … even if it did disappoint you that you wouldn’t get to see him at the plate or on the field again. 

The rest of the game went by quickly, and though they gave up a few runs, your team ended up winning handily. Caleb requested to stay and watch the on-field celebration after, and as the players lined up for high fives and handshakes before leaving for the locker room, you focused, too. Maybe he’ll come back out for a second. 

It was stupid and you knew it, but the moment the field emptied, it meant that the night - and the experience in Jack’s seats - was over… and you didn’t want it to be.

He took his place in line - still wearing his uniform but without his hat - and you watched as he greeted the other players, smiling and laughing with them as they interacted. You couldn’t hear him, but you could tell he was happy, and that made you smile, too. Maybe he really will be back in Louisville by next week. 

The handshakes ended, and when Jack headed back toward the dugout, he didn’t look in your direction again - until right before he made it to the top of the steps. 

It was then that he stopped, eyeing the seats until he saw the two of you. You tried not to react, but Caleb didn’t hide his response; the boy raising his hand and waving wildly. Jack laughed at the sight of it, lifting one of his hands in a wave, too. 

You thought that was it, but then his head turned just enough that he made direct eye contact with you. 

Even from the distance, you could see one side of his mouth lift into a half smile as he nodded, raising one hand and touching the tips of his fingers to his temple before tipping them toward you. Your smile grew and you nodded in return, but before you could do anything else, Jack disappeared into the dugout, leaving the two of you standing in front of the seats. 

Well that was something. Biting your lip and letting out a breath through your nose, you turned your attention toward Caleb, saying his name. “Alright, kiddo. We’re going to go to the bathroom before we head out, because I am not stopping twenty minutes into the drive to let you pee.” 

— 

You’d expected Caleb to talk your ear off the entire drive home. Instead, he fell asleep before you made it back to the highway, leaving you with your thoughts on the drive back. 

And you would have been lying if you said that most of those thoughts weren’t of Jack. 

The interaction with him had been limited, sure. But it had been meaningful in more than one way, for both you and Caleb. He had a cool story that he could tell his friends, and pictures that he could show them. You’d look back on the way his gaze on you had felt and remember the thrill of being on the receiving end of one of his bright smiles. 

You didn’t know him any more than any other person that had ever seen him play or interacted with him briefly, but that didn’t matter. Even if you never spoke to him again, and never saw him in any capacity aside from on the field, you’d have that night as a memory. And a damn good one.

After dropping Caleb off and promising Erin a recap the following day, you drove the short distance to your house and parked in the driveway, turning the car off and enjoying the silence for a few seconds before unbuckling your seatbelt. 

Your house was quiet and dark as you moved through it, leaving your shoes and bag by the front door and grabbing your phone before heading upstairs. You tossed that onto your bed and went into the bathroom, scrubbing your face and changing into your pajamas before staring at your reflection in the mirror. 

You’d been single for six months, and though you’d talked to a few men through the same dating app Erin had used to meet Troy, none of the conversations had led anywhere past the first awkward meetings. It wasn’t that the men weren’t interested, it was you that was selective, opting not to waste your time with anyone that reminded you of the time you’d spent with your most recent ex. 

You knew that you were being picky, but you were content with that knowledge, even if it meant a longer period of being on your own before you found the right person. And Jack couldn’t ever be the right person. You wrinkled your nose while you brushed your teeth, still watching yourself in the mirror. Because he’s been consistently single for his entire career. 

Jack kept much of his personal life private, but Janie was the exception to that. 

And after climbing into bed and plugging your phone in, you searched their names, refreshing your memory of the story that you’d become familiar with when The Statesman had first drafted Jack. 

They’d been high school sweethearts, opting to go to college together. He was going to play ball and major in engineering, and her chosen field was communications. It was clear from all of the pictures of the two of them you found that though they were young, they were in love. 

Everything had gone well for the first few months; Jack and Janie settled in on campus, started classes and began making friends. They’d come home together for Christmas, and Jack was set to begin baseball in January with the rest of the team. 

But only a few weeks into the pre-season, the unthinkable happened: Janie stopped at a convenience store to buy coffee on her way to meet her study group off campus while Jack was at a team workout, and was caught in the middle of a robbery. She hadn’t even made it to the hospital, and Jack had considered quitting the team due to his grief. 

Her parents had convinced him otherwise - reminding him that he’d worked hard for years to get to where he was, and that she wouldn’t have wanted him to give up on his dreams on her account. His parents had agreed, though there were interviews where they admitted that they would have understood if he’d chosen to take a break or even quit outright. 

And Jack had taken a few weeks off, but was ready to go on opening day, dedicating his season to Janie and her family. He was a skilled player, there was no question about it, but the coverage of a D1 athlete losing his girlfriend in such a shocking manner helped draw attention to the man and his performance, and it hadn’t taken him long to grab the attention of scouts. 

He’d had some attention in high school, too, though nothing had panned out - aside from the offer of a partial athletic scholarship. That all changed in his sophomore year when everyone really took notice of his exceptionally high fielding percentage and his infectious enthusiasm toward his teammates. 

Jack declared for the draft that was to take place a month after finishing his junior year - only days after his 21st birthday, and The Statesman had taken him with the fourth overall pick in the first round. 

The rest was history. 

He’d played with The Cavalry for almost four seasons before getting his first call-up, and though it had been toward the end of the regular season, Jack had received an invite to Spring Training the following year … and he’d never gone back. 

In his second season with The Statesman, he’d been named the starting shortstop, making a name for himself with both his agility and personality. His teammates loved him. The community loved him. The cameras loved him, and in the five seasons he’d played in his original position, he earned two gold gloves and got voted into the All-Star Game once. 

But he was injury prone, and after careful consideration, they moved Jack from shortstop to third base. It was an adjustment period for everyone involved, though after a few years of playing the position, it seemed almost natural for him, and there were fewer injuries. 

Until earlier that season, anyway, when Jack had misjudged a slide into second and jammed his shoulder, spraining a muscle and knocking him out of all baseball activities for weeks. He’d gone on the 60 day injured list, though you’d seen him at more than a few games in the dugout before he’d headed down to rehab with The Cavalry. 

He was lucky he hadn’t needed surgery, and even luckier that there’d been no complications with his healing. According to the newest articles you read as you scrolled online that night, Caleb was correct and the team was aiming to have Jack re-activated by the following weekend so that he could finish the final 7 weeks of the season in the majors. Which is where he deserves to be.

You sighed and rolled onto your side, eyes still on the screen - and on a picture of Jack that had been taken a week or two earlier during a Statesman season ticket holder event. He was grinning from behind the bar, one hand holding a glass and the other pulling on a tap to pour someone a drink. 

“Enough.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of your nose with your free hand. Doing a deep dive on Jack wasn’t going to change anything, even if it was keeping you occupied as you wound down for the night.

But before you put the phone down and rolled in the opposite direction, you couldn’t help opening his instagram page and checking his tagged photos, just to see if the woman from next to you had posted the picture like she said she would. 

There were countless pictures of Jack in his uniform posted - everything from on-field screenshots to pictures of him with his teammates and family - but those were dotted with more personal ones; people tagging him in photos of themselves, edited photos, or photos of Jack alone that had been taken from other sources. You didn’t have far to scroll before you found the picture of Jack and the woman, tapping it with one finger to make it bigger. 

She’d put more than one filter on it, smoothing out her features and his, and when you zoomed in on it, you wrinkled your nose. Why would you filter him? He doesn’t need it. Even with the filtering, you could see the bored look in Jack’s eyes, his smile small and tight. Not like it was with Caleb. 

She’d captioned the picture with a black and a yellow heart bracketing the number 7, and it already had more than a few likes. She also had a story, and even though you knew that she’d be able to see who viewed it, you didn’t care, hesitating for only a second before tapping on it. 

The girl - whose name was Brittany - had posted a few times throughout the game; pictures from in her seat, a video of Jack walking up to the plate, her grinning at the camera at the end of the game with the scoreboard behind her… but the final story post was clearly a picture of a parking lot with a tall fence around it, and what looked like a security guard in the corner. She went to the lot. 

You sighed, backing out of the story - and her profile - and going back to Jack’s, eyes lingering on his account’s picture. You followed him, and had for years - liking and commenting on the pictures he posted as well as tagging him and the other players in the occasional ones you’d taken at games. He’d never replied or acknowledged them in any way, though. 

And he won’t, you admitted to yourself as you closed out of the app and opened your alarm, making sure that it was set. “Good luck, Jack.” Closing your eyes after setting the device down on your bedside table, you rolled away from it and got comfortable. As you settled in, you let your thoughts wander back to earlier - to the way Jack’s eyes had warmed when he’d smiled at you, and the way his smile had widened when he saw you and Caleb sitting in his seats. 

You would have been lying if you’d said that the memories didn’t make you feel good. It didn’t matter that he’d likely smiled at hundreds of others in the same way. He’d made the night special for you and for Caleb, and that was the important thing. 

It didn’t take you long to fall asleep - and Jack followed you into your dreams… which you didn’t mind at all. 

— 

You didn’t have a meeting until 10:30 the following morning and so you slept in a little, taking a shower and getting dressed before you even checked your messages. 

There were a few from Erin, asking for details, and you promised you’d reach out once you had a break. But before then, you needed to focus and settled in in front of your laptop, clicking open your first email of the day. Back at it. 

You worked steadily until almost 1 PM, checking things off of your to-do list and scheduling a second consultation with the same client for the end of the following week. You typically worked virtually - and had since your uncle had hired you a few years prior - but there were occasional accounts that required your presence in person. And this one’s going to be one of them. 

That wasn’t an issue. Their offices were located in New Orleans, and you were looking forward to potentially spending a few paid days in the city. But we’ll see. 

While you waited for your lunch to heat, you called Erin, your friend picking up on the second ring and groaning into your ear. “Whatever happened yesterday must have been incredible because Caleb hasn’t shut up since he woke up this morning.” 

“It was pretty great, Erin,” Taking a seat at your kitchen table, you laughed. “I sent him the pictures, did he -”

“He’s already set the one of him and Jack as his phone background. And he’s been bugging me to take him to get them printed.” You weren’t surprised; Caleb loved baseball, and the opportunity that he’d had at the game the previous night had likely meant the world to him. “So how did that happen? He just offered you the tickets?” 

“Pretty much. He stopped to sign for Caleb, and just out of nowhere, asked where we were sitting.” You wet your lips, laughing. “And then once he knew we were in the outfield seats, he just … pointed at the dugout and told us that we could sit in his instead.” 

“He offered them to Caleb? Or to -”

“Well… sort of.” You stood, looking out your back window. “He asked your brother where we were sitting but he was looking at me when he offered the tickets…” You pulled your food out of the microwave and set it down to cool. “And then when we were in the seats, he made eye contact with me a couple times, but -”

“How hot is he up close?” You snorted, but she continued. “Because that picture of him and Caleb? That man’s hand is -”

“Really hot.” Humming in agreement, you reached for a fork. “And he seemed really nice, too. Paid more attention to the kids than to the adults. There was this girl sitting next to us and she was clearly trying to catch his eye, but he barely looked at her.” You figured that he was a professional and wouldn’t have done anything to jeopardize his reputation while on the field - and in front of younger fans. But still. She made it obvious. “He was polite, but he was just … going through the motions.” 

She hummed again, the sound non-committal as you took your first bite. “But not with you. And not with Caleb.” No, I guess not. “You should post those pictures and tag him.”

“Erin, I’m not trying to -”

“No, just hear me out. Maybe he’ll see them. And maybe he’ll remember you. And maybe he’ll -”

“Erin, come on. That’s a fantasy. I’m sure he’s got a million people tagging him every day. He won’t even see it if I do.” 

“You never know. It can’t hurt.” She said your name, the tone teasing. “And since Caleb’s account is private since he’s twelve, it makes sense you’d post ‘em for him. He really had a lot of fun with you. He’s already asking if you want to go to a game again.”

“Yeah. There’s still a little over a month left this season, so I’m sure we can figure out a weekend to see the Statesman. I’ll third wheel with you and Troy.” She laughed at that, agreeing. “I’m going to go, though. I need to eat. I have to run and analyze metrics for two campaigns this afternoon, and it’s going to take forever.” 

You hung up soon after, but as you ate, you contemplated what she’d said about posting the pictures. It was really no different than any of the other games you’d been to or posted about. You’d taken pictures that weren’t of Jack, and those could go up, too. Why not post the one of him and Caleb? It’s a good picture. 

After sending the final email for the day, you shut your laptop and changed into more comfortable clothes before stretching out on the couch. You needed to go to the store, but figured it could wait til later … and you had pictures to post. 

You chose five of them - one of the field from the concourse, one of the scoreboard, a picture from the seats, and then two of Jack and Caleb - one while he was signing and the other of them looking at the camera, which you made the main image. Choosing a caption was harder than picking the pictures themselves, but you finally opted for something extremely neutral: First @The_Cavalry game of the season. Great game, even better seats, and @CalebOnBase got to meet his favorite player. 

You tagged the picture - adding Jack and The Statesman’s accounts - and thought about adding one of Jack’s walk up songs to the post. No. That looks too desperate. So you posted it without, taking one final look at the images - and lingering on Jack’s smile - before you checked the Cavalry’s account to see if they’d posted that night’s lineup. 

Jack was starting again, but instead of being in at 3rd, he was the designated hitter. So he’ll get to bat, but can save his arm. It made sense, and you figured that if all went well, he’d only play in a game or two more before being called back up to the majors. And he’ll be back here. It made you smile, and the expression widened when you got a comment on the post from Caleb - four baseballs and the thumbs up emoji. 

You’d done your part, and that was that. Caleb could see that you’d posted the photos, and if by chance Jack saw the tag, he’d also see that you appreciated the seats he’d allowed you to sit in. With one final look at the pictures, you nodded and then sat up, sighing. 

“Alright. Grocery shopping’s not going to do itself.”

— 

You were stunned the next afternoon when you got an alert that The Cavalry tagged you in a story, and didn’t even try to hold back your grin when you saw that they’d reposted your pictures. You got a comment from their account a few seconds later - Glad you had a great time, thanks for coming! - the words accompanied by a blue heart and a baseball. 

After sending the link to Erin so that she could show her brother, you set your phone down, returning to the work you were doing. You stayed busy throughout the rest of the day, and even though your phone kept lighting up with new alerts - strangers liking the pictures and commenting on your post, it didn’t break your focus. 

And by the following day, things were pretty much back to normal. The story was gone, strangers weren’t still finding your profile, and you’d opted to work for most of Saturday morning to get ahead, which meant that you could take Monday off. And I can take a nap. I haven’t been able to do that in weeks. 

You pulled the drapes shut and then climbed into bed, the darkened room helping you to relax much faster than you anticipated. There was no need to set an alarm, and so you didn’t, figuring that you’d wake up on your own when you got hungry… which you did, just after 6 PM. Maybe I’ll order food. I don’t feel like cooking. 

You stretched, pointing your toes, and then reached for your phone, mentally flipping through restaurant options. But you froze with the device in front of your face as the screen lit up, eyes zeroing in on the alert in the center of it. 

Whiskey_Jack7 liked your post

---

[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Angst with a Happy Ending, Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking,

Word Count:  2.5k

Summary: The jackass you wrote off last night seeks you out for an apology. At least you get a baseball game out of it.

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: I'm just here for the baseball.

You're coming back from your  morning run, endorphins pumping through your body, when a text notification from an unknown number flashes across the screen of your phone.  

Unknown Number: Hey, it's Jake the Jackass from the bar last night.  Just wanted to apologize again and thank you for the apparently needed ego check.

You: Glad I could provide some much needed grounding.  How did you get my number?

Unknown Number: Lydia ended up back here with Rooster last night.  I asked her when she briefly emerged from their sex den.

You: Ahh sweet traitorous Lydia. Anyway, I accept the apology.  Bye and have a nice life.

Unknown Number: That's abrupt, lol.  Let me try to redeem myself at least.  I've got two home plate tickets to the Padres game today.  Interested in joining me?

You consider the offer, a free ticket to a game and something to do this afternoon.  In an unusual fit of impulse you grab your phone and reply.

You: Sure, why not.  I'll meet you at the entrance opposite the convention center at 12:30.  

Unknown Number: Sounds great, it's a date. See you then.

You: It's not a date, it's amends.  Especially if I buy the beer.

You don't receive a response.  you save his number in your phone as Jackass, Jake in the last name first format.  

Jake the Jackass has such a nice alliteration to it.  Looking at the clock you've got just enough time to clean up, shove some food down your gullet, and catch the ferry from Coronado Island over to the stadium.  

It's a beautiful day that happens more often than not in San Diego when you get off the ferry and walk towards Petco Park.  You can see Jake waiting from a distance, he's easy to pick out with the ramrod military posture, sun lightened blond hair waving gently in the wind, and those ubiquitous aviator sunglasses.  Are they contractually required to wear them all the time?

You're about 50 feet away when he spots you and you can see the smile bloom in his face in recognition as you approach.  He opens his arms for a hug and to your own surprise you reciprocate the gesture.  The warmth of his hand seeps through the light cotton sundress you chose for today and almost sears where your bare skin meets his.  With the sensible sandals you're wearing he's almost a foot taller than you and you feel very small, yet safe in his arms.  Again you get the woodsy smell of his aftershave and think how nice he smells.  He pulls back and says, 

"I wasn't sure you were going to come.  Thought you might want to finish grinding my ego into the ground."

You laugh and reply, 

"I keep my word.  Besides I figure anyone who's enough of a glutton for punishment to try again is probably worth a second chance. That and a tiny soft spot in my heart that decided at least I get out to a Padres game. It's hard to find someone to go with sometimes."

You start walking towards the turnstile to enter the stadium.

"Lydia and Beth, not big sports fans?" He asks.

"Hardly, the funny thing is that I work with a whole lot of dudes who love baseball, but I just can't imagine spending time with them outside of work without them getting the wrong idea."

"What idea would that be?" He asks waggling his eyebrows.  

You point at him,

"That one.  For some reason I can't just hang out with a guy from work without them thinking it's more than just someone to hang with and watch some baseball.  They try to make it more and it gets real awkward at work when I don't reciprocate. I dated one guy from work and it got pretty serious before it went down in spectacular flames." 

You make explosion gestures with your hands. 

"Ended up leaving that job, it got so bad, but that led me to your  job at Lockheed Martin so it works out in the end." 

You take a deep breath, you usually don't reveal that much personal info so early.  You know you have trust issues. Jake's brows have furrowed into what you read as anger when thinking about some long ago asshole. For some reason the thought of him wanting to kick some guys ass for you makes you feel fuzzy, then you can feel your  feminist brain sigh in disappointment. Sensing the mood has shifted too far towards serious, you laugh your nervous laugh, and point over to the concession stand and ask, 

"You got drinks last night so it's your  turn.  What do you want?" 

Jake surprisingly goes along easily with your offer and says, 

"Stone Hazy IPA."

Most guys seem affronted that you want to pay your fair share for a date, another ex had called it emasculating when you bought  dinner or drinks and for the fact that you made more money than him.  You pick a lighter lager from Ballast Point along with a bottle of water. 

You've settled into your seats, drinks in tow just as the pregame announcements start.  The national anthem plays and you see just how ingrained military habits can be when Jake rises automatically to that perfect posture and removes his sunglasses and raises his hand over his heart and sings surprisingly well along with the music.  His voice is mellow and deep and just a charming amount off key in a couple places of the song.  An image of you lying your head on his naked chest and feeling that voice reverberate flashes through your brain.  Quickly, you shake it away to applaud the end of the anthem and the first pitch.  

"These seats are great," you offer to keep the conversation going. You're just far enough down the third base line that we've got a good view of the batter, but still close enough to action that we can hear the catcher trash talking the batters. 

"How'd you score these?"

"One of my buddies has season tickets, but got called out to a new assignment and knew I was going to be in the area so he gifted me the rest of the season since he can't use them."

"Nice friend, if you've got these seats all season, I might be more likely to hang out with you again."

"Aha, so the way into the Ice Queen's heart is through baseball, who knew?"

"I've got a few passions in life, you just have to dig a little deeper to get to know them. So, I've got a question, how are you so well acquainted with Frozen?  You’re not exactly the market demographic for Frozen.  Are you a secret super fan of Disney?"

He laughs, 

"Not a secret super fan of Disney, although the Lion King did break my   little 10 year old heart.  First time I cried at a movie.  I've got two nieces who are eight and five.  Right in that target demographic. I babysit them occasionally when I'm back in Texas."

"So what does the Seresin family situation look like?" you ask. 

"Painfully middle class white, my  parents have been married since the beginning of time, met in college. Had my brother pretty early, and a few years later I came along.  Dad was a doctor, my older brother is too. Mom had a Physics degree from UT but never had a chance to use it as she stayed home with us and didn't work.  Grew up in Austin as the all American family."

"Wow, high achieving family.  Imagine being the disappointment as a fighter pilot."

"Who says I'm the disappointment?  Mike is just a doctor." He says in mock offense.  

"What does the…I don't even know your last name.  I just saved you as Elsa Ice in my phone."

You give him a mock glare, "Matthews, so you can correct that now.  To be fair I saved you as Jake Jackass in my phone.  We'll see how the day goes to see if you upgrade that status. The Matthews family is also painfully bland and white.  My Dad retired from the Navy after his service in Vietnam, came back to Michigan and met my mom at a house party at Michigan State.  Dad's an automotive engineer and Mom taught high school math for many years. Grew up in a Lansing suburb.  I'm the oldest, I have a sister who's 3 years younger than me.  She's a tattoo artist in Chicago."

"That's at least a little bit interesting, do you have any of her work on you?"

A mischievous smirk creeps onto your lips as you respond, 

"Yeah, I've got a few pieces of hers on me.  She's the only one I'd ever let tattoo me.  I'd show you, but that would probably earn me a public indecency ticket." 

You slyly wink at the last sentence and enjoy the way Jake slightly chokes on his beer as the thought registers.

After a slight coughing fit, Jake regains his smooth demeanor.  "As you informed me last night you've got a PhD in aerospace engineering from Stanford, did you go to Michigan State for undergrad?"

"Nope, love my family dearly but I needed some distance so I went to Notre Dame. "

He laughs and you can see those charming laugh lines peeking out from the sides of his aviators.  "I get that, I've got some family legacy in the Air Force and wanted to earn my place on my own merits, not on my last name."

"You go to the Naval Academy  then?" 

He nods in the affirmative, 

"That must have been anarchy when you made that choice."

He chuckles at the memory, 

"Nearly gave my grandfather a heart attack and almost got my ass beat by uncles and cousins.  But I kind of enjoy being the black sheep."

"Yeah, my dad blew a gasket when I got into Notre Dame.  He thought he was going to have to pay for it all, private out-of-state tuition made his mind melt, but luckily I got an athletic scholarship that covered most of it."

"What sport?" 

Before you can reply there is a high foul ball headed towards your seats.  You're seated closer to home plate than Jake and you instinctively stretch your  arms up to try and catch the ball.  It's coming closer and you can see that it's going to sail over your  head.  You, for the millionth time, curse your  shortness.  Suddenly you feel strong hands on your waist and you're being propelled up high enough to catch the ball.  You catch the ball with a satisfying thud and whip your  head around to see how you're presumably flying in the air.  Jake is holding you as high as he can above his head with his long arms. His muscles are rippling but not trembling, the thought of how he could hold you up easily while fucking you against a wall flashes through your brain and a flush of heat rolls down your body and straight to your  pussy.  You almost drop the ball at the thought as he returns you to the ground.

"I didn't expect that, the foul ball or the complimentary flight."

He shrugs, 

"It was all you, I just gave you the boost."

"Well, thank you. I've never caught a ball at a game.  This is going to be an excellent addition to my desk on Monday, it'll inspire so much jealousy among my coworkers."

The game continues on at the easy pace of baseball, plenty of time to talk but not miss the action. The Padres are playing the Milwaukee Brewers so it gives you a chance to talk about your mom's roots in Wisconsin and the family legacy of cheese making.  

"So, you’re telling me that you’re the first person in five generations of your mom's family not to work in a cheese factory.  That is so Wisconsin it hurts." He can't stop laughing maniacally at the thought.  you give him a mock punch on the arm as you roll your eyes.  "I might be changing your name in my phone to Elsa Cheese Queen." He is laughing so hard that he takes his aviators off to wipe at his eyes.

"Oh my god, you’re turning into a lobster.  Did you put any sunscreen on today?"

"No, thought didn't occur to me."

"What is it about guys and sunscreen? Nobody remembers, here I've got some in my purse."

You pull out a small tube of sunscreen and pull his hand over to squeeze some on his fingers.  He attempts to slather it on his face leaving a few big globs along his jawline.  

"Here, let me help you with that."

You reach out and blend the sunscreen along his jawline, your fingers graze over a hint of stubble.  Your apparently overactive and very horny brain sends the thought of feeling that stubble tracing up your  thighs.  You let the thought linger and quickly hand the tube to Jake and stutter out, 

"Now do me." 

You mentally cringe at the innuendo, "My back," you quickly amend and turn in your seat to present your  back to him.  You can feel the cool lotion spread across your  back with calloused hands, he gently moves the thin straps of your sundress to make sure he doesn't miss a spot.  Horny brain is already piecing together scenarios where that is your bra strap and is followed by exploring lips.  Rational brain manages to squeak out a thank you and retrieve the sunscreen from Jake.  You settle back into your  seat and Jake rests his arm on the back of your  seat.  You let it stay.

The game ends with the Padres winning 8-4. You're shuffling out of the game and your stomach growls.  In another one of those moments of impulse you'll attribute to your horny brain you ask, 

"Are you up for a bite to eat? I know a good tapas place a few blocks from here."

Jake is visibly surprised at your invite, he smiles as he replies, 

"Yeah, that sounds great. I must have grown on you if you're wanting to spend more time with me. I half expected you to bolt the minute the game was over."  

He smirks and cracks that toothpaste smile that you immediately rename the panty dropper.  

"Ah yes, like a cute little fungus, you've grown on me.  You’re not so bad, once you drop the smug idiot act."

"Fair, I can work with that…so does this mean you’re asking me on a date?"

You pause and lower your  sunglasses, it's your  turn to be smooth for once in your life.  

@mayhemmanaged

"Why yes, Jake Seresin, will you go on a dinner date with me?"

Chapter 3

@callmemana

@hangmanscoming

@lanie-k

[danwhobrowses]

That (Other) Time I was All In

From this angle it seems like I was farther away, but I assure you I was at least 10 rows closer this time XD

Another All In is in the books and I had the pleasure of attending it again. I promised myself last year that if I was gonna come back it'd only be under 2 requirements; I'd get closer seats and the card had to sell it to me this time. And for the second consecutive year AEW delivered massively.

I'll discuss more below, not a lot of action pictures I'm afraid they all came out blurry.

Also Spoilers for All In 2024 if you don't already know the results

So there are two things to talk about, one is the show (split into before and during) and the other is travel, so I'm just gonna rant about both in case anyone else thinks about going to Wembley in 2026 (or next year if Forbidden Door is at Wembley, they only say London right now).

Travel to and from Wembley

Okay for starters, travelling during a train strike is rough. I get why they picked a bank holiday weekend but what was initially a 45 min to 1 hour train to King's Cross turned into a 2 hour journey, having to take a bus to Bedford and then a train with a bunch of stops, including Luton Airport, to London

Premier Inn needs to update its info because the website said I could check in for free after 11am and the desk said 3pm, I didn't want to leave my bags in there for an extra £10...which bit me in the ass.

Don't make the mistake I made on consecutive years and come off at the wrong Wembley station. There are 3 of them and 2 are quite a walk away from the stadium compared to the one right outside of it. My mood was already tense since my travel had been up to 3 hours at that point but also again the turnstiles swallowed up the ticket I was also gonna use to get back, meaning I paid extra on the way back. Go to Wembley Park, it's on the Circle Line, you can get there via Baker Street too.

Bring as little as possible to the stadium, they think they're fucking airport security and overestimate how many view their website when getting tickets via ticketmaster. When I made it to the stadium I was stopped at the steps, being told that my bag was too big to bring in, and I'd have to pay £10 to put it in a bag holding area - which was a fair walk away from the stadium too. So either way I was forking out cash

Then after hours of waiting, queuing and getting into the stadium I was told that my drinks bottle I had brought from home couldn't be brought in, even when empty, because it was 'too big and could be thrown at someone'. I protested, since they're not gonna reimburse me for forcing me to discard my belongings and were insisting that I go back to the bag holding to put away a plastic drink bottle I took with me last year, but they treated me like I was gonna throw hands - and insisted that the info was on the Wembley website - so I threw it away to placate them. Still a drinks bottle can't get in but you can bring your phone and keys - both of which can equally be thrown to deal even more damage, I'm sure my shoe could do worse too. Just a con to squeeze more money out of you.

Premier Inn has cosy rooms, but I don't like any lights being on, so having a TV always on standby on the wall opposite and a smoke alarm blinking above me was just added nuisance to my aching body and natural difficulty in sleeping, also there's no toothpaste, you can buy some but it seems to be the only thing that doesn't come with the room (and a toothbrush but I brought my own expecting that). Breakfast was nice though.

Before the Show

Despite my travel woes there was some caveats before the Zero Hour began. For one I cross paths with Cultaholic again, they weren't asking questions but they were doing a punishment bit, so I followed behind watching but also trying not to intercept. I shook Tom Campbell's hand though.

After seeing Emi Sakura and Lulu last year I did keep my eyes open for other wrestlers arriving to Wembley, and I did spot another, this time someone on the card (really wanted Emi on this card). Sammy Guevara and Tay Melo were too far for me to approach - they were carrying their kid too so it wouldn't have been appropriate - tbh I spotted Tay before I spotted Sammy, in spite of his sky blue suit and haircut.

This was how close I was to the ring, and upon getting to my seat I was met with an interesting surprise too, a padded chair and a note...

So you know all that above nonsense about not being allowed to bring in a drinks bottle because you might throw it and hurt someone? Well they let me leave the stadium with a fucking steel chair, how's that for hypocrisy?

I wasn't expecting to take home the chair, I knew it was a thing for VIP tickets but my ticket never said it was a VIP one. Not easy to carry around mind you and I gotta find a place to put it now...

When soaking in the area I also spotted Lexy Nair and Alicia Atout in their sparkly dresses making their way around to the ramp for the Zero Hour.

Unfortunately we still don't get video coverage of the Zero Hour outside of matches, you hear a few interviews and maybe the screen shows some footage but that's about it, which is a shame.

Lots of fans didn't find their seats until midway after the Zero Hour, and a lot of them liked to move around, get drinks between each match and all that, which could get annoying. Not as many signs in my way though and since I had a bit of space beside me I could shuffle a little bit to the far side for more space. You'll always get the contrarian chanters too, the ones who cheer the heels.

Close seats are great for in-ring wrestling, not so much everywhere else. I understand that wrestlers want fans from all seats to get a look at the action but yeah, even on the barricade it's covered by a swarm of bodies trying to get a look, or get on tv.

My position had the added benefit of having a good view of the rampway, the place where most wrestlers would stop to get the on-ramp camera was within my eyeshot.

The Show itself

Fans love the commentary btw, Daddy Magic and Schiavone got a lot of love and gave it back too.

Zero Hour was fun, the first multi-man was a bit of a potluck of faces and heels. Private Party came out as faces but then Ari Davari comes out with them? Still match was a lot of fun; Lio and Satnam, Kip getting a massive pop from the crowd, Top Flight going nuts, Kyle being badass, glad Dark Order got to show up too they mentioned it was on their list for the year. Dante and Kyle threw their shades and elbow pad into the crowd too.

Mixed Tag was funny as hell too, Stoke knows his role, liked that Statlander got to wrestle Ishii a bit too. You can't hear me but I do shout 'you're wearing him down!' to Stoke when he's trying to shoulder barge Ishii.

The big 10 man was alright, we all loved Dustin and Shibata, we were still unsure with Sammy but we rallied at the Von Erich's urging. The aftermath with the Claw was better, the botch on Shibata with the throwing powerbomb did make us a little worried.

Jamie Hayter coming back was a huge pop, I was hoping Emi was gonna show up since I expected Hayter for the TBS title match but it's great she's back.

Ladder match was great. Tables didn't really comply a lot in the match but we loved the effort and the narrative and PAC. The image is smaller but you can see me stand up the moment he kicks Christian off the ladder realising he's gonna take it. Great opening surprise win.

Then to hit us with the story-charged women's title bout of Mariah vs Toni. We were in full song for that one, it's hard to gauge the crowd noise when you're so close but you can hear the echoing for the Toni Storm sang in the tune of Daddy Cool chant. Right woman went over too, very strong match.

I kinda feel bad about how effortlessly we the crowd derailed the FTW title match by following Cardiff's lead and cheering for Big Bill XD HOOK and Jericho put on a fine match (cricket balls were dubious though this ain't the Oval) and Tazz showing up was great, but it was a lull in the show. The people around me at least chuckled at my 'He can see! It's a miracle!' when HOOK took his patch off.

It was difficult to gauge the Tag Title match too because we chanted hard for FTR and the Acclaimed during their entrances but they were also at each other's throats. Didn't like the CM Punk chants, it's fucking unnecessary let it go. I knew Sgt Pepper's Young Bucks would win but it did feel like it could've gone another gear.

Grizzled Young Vets walked RIGHT PAST ME! I barely even noticed until I clocked that it was Zack Gibson. Attacking FTR was on brand but it did make the cheering fall to uncertainty, but this is a fresh team to enter the picture.

If I had a nickel for every time Christian Cage did double duty to swerve us all...well I'd wonder why you're giving me nickels we don't use them here. The Casino Gauntlet was a lot of fun, we expected Ricochet but Okada, ZSJ, and Nigel McGuinness coming out of retirement were all big surprises, Jarrett getting cheered like a babyface and cracking Hangman with a guitar, OC with the Mr Bean intro too! But Luchasaurus with the bait and Killswitch, goddammit! He can't keep getting away with this!

MJF/Ospreay was a cream of the crop kinda match. We knew the story would be Max absorbing all of Ospreay's arsenal but it came down to who would be eating the Tiger Driver 97? I dunno if I'm in shot when Max soaked in our corner to a parade of middle fingers but I did tell him his country sucked (had he returned to the corner more beaten I'd have made a healthcare jab). We were all for Ospreay though, thought it was Adam Cole with the intercept first but glad it was Garcia, great match.

The TBS title match was hard to gauge as well, it felt like the crowd was drained a little from the previous match, or just the more misogynist part of the crowd leaving to skip it. There was nothing wrong with the match itself, Moné's entrance was great and that reverse super powerslam from Britt was creative. We tried to will the chants of CEO and DMD but the ending did feel abrupt. Still another correct outcome but I feel like Hayter's return could've been utilized better here.

The TNT Coffin match felt like a sprint. Honestly though even though I couldn't see much of it given how little of it was in the ring I appreciated how Jack approached the match. The real glass and soaking in the boos (Cry Me a River chants are acceptable, 'Fuck CM Punk' chants were not) were great but I particularly loved the storytelling that Jack knew he couldn't outdo Darby in violence so worked to subdue instead, essentially hogtying him to get him in the coffin.

Sting coming back was rumored but still amazing, can't believe I've seen Sting on 2 consecutive AEW shows. I hope narratively we use this loss and outwitting as a way for Sting to coach Darby into trying to find his edge again for his upcoming world title shot.

And well, what can you say about the Main Event? It was the only one I couldn't call down the middle, we were either seeing the end of Bryan Danielson or we were seeing him win his last world title of his full time career. The noise I'm sure was incredible for the Final Countdown, but at ringside it was godly.

So much props to Swerve too, he knew exactly when to heel it up enough with the ring bell and the stomping in front of Bryan's family - a focal point of the match's storytelling - plus with Hangman's surprise distraction we may end up doing a second double turn from this. He was a great world champion, extremely crisp in the ring, and absorbing the Buisaku Knee like an anime villain was a great touch.

But the night belonged to the best fucking wrestler in the world Bryan Danielson. The YES chants are infectious, he pulls off the babyface in peril so well, the constant looking and reaching for his family for strength as well is just chef's kiss. And in a chorale of 50k fans demanding Swerve tap was only droned out by the immense cheer of when he did. My throat is hoarse, my hands and feet are sore, but I left the show happy - albeit in a massive queue for my bags while carrying a steel chair XD

Fortunately the queuing didn't cause me to miss all of Whatculture's live ppv Ups and Downs. I could hear him talking about the TNT title match but it was still hard to hear, didn't help that two guys were arguing in front of me because one was protesting that he hadn't consecutively been rubbing up against his girlfriend and took umbrage with being told to give each other space to avoid it happening again, another guy chiming in with 'it doesn't matter how she feels' when asking for an apology annoyed me too because it fucking does! Both parties left separately a few moments later so I got closer and was able to partly hear more. Then I carried my ass to the hotel and came home the following morning.

All In All (pun intended), another fantastic show of wrestling. Travel and external factors had threatened to dampen my experience but it was great nonetheless. I doubt I'll go to Texas but maybe 2026 I'll run it back again. In the meantime we'll simply soak in the joys of multiple debuts, returns, title changes and Bryan Danielson as a World Champion again.

[quiet-admirer]

8, 12, 17!

8. what do you think is the best song to play during sexy times?

I actually don't play music during sex haha. We kinda stopped sometime before I found out I had ADHD and was medicated for it because I'd get distracted singing along 😄 Foreplay/sex with me used to be like *making out* "hey remember that reality show with Nicole Ritchie and Paris Hilton, what was that called again?" 

But one song that weirdly gets me in the mood is fuckin Black Dog by Led Zeppelin so I'd say hypothetically stuff like that lmao. But I'd probably still be at risk of stopping to air guitar 😁

Bonus points for a live version, too. Love it when you can hear a vocalist's breath and spit. Plus the ad libs in that version push my feedist subliminal messaging buttons with like "sweet jelly roll," "big-legged woman," and "I can't get my fill" hahaha

12. who is a band or artist that you've never seen that you're dying to see?

I've been pretty lucky the past year getting to see most of my bread-and-butter bands live, but there are still a few I'd love to see but haven't! 

I had to miss the recent Soul Glo/Touché Amoré tour, and I've never seen either but that lineup sounds like it would have been SO good. I'd also love Sleep Talk and Vilify to make it up from Australia, and it would be cool to see Turnstile but I'm not paying rent prices to see them at a stadium so that's probably not going to happen.

17. what song do you listen to if you need to pump yourself up to do something difficult?

Not a song, I am clearly incapable of answering with just one thing haha, but Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge gets the lifetime MVP award for being able to motivate me to actually do the dishes when I have a mental block against it!

[opiatemasses]

Football fandom: Are the minority ruining it for the majority?

What is it that distinguishes ‘supporters/fans’ with ‘spectators?’ I would argue the difference will help you grasp the notion of fandom and how some people reach their levels of devotion and intense interest towards their chosen sports team. I would define a spectator as a person who can observe sport but feel no direct emotion during or after the event, it will not leave a lasting memory. In comparison, supporters and fans who will personally live every moment while watching a game and have an intense emotional devotion towards their chosen team. Moreover, fandom offers people an escape from the ‘real world’ and allows them to invest their time and energy into something they have a strong passion and love for.

Is the outcome of a football game a life-or-death situation? The obvious answer to this question is no but to many football fans up and down the country and across the world they may not give such a straight answer.

Social media

The morals of fandom is something that has been questioned by many, with various events happening within football to spark these conversations. Examples of this include fans confronting players from their ‘beloved’ team either in real life or via social media, which has been both positive and negative for the connection between fan and athlete. I have found examples of both ends of the spectrum on the influence of social media on the modern-day fan to player interaction:

Positive: Marcus Rashford in Lockdown creating a strong movement via social media in funding children with meals.

Negative: The three players who missed penalties in the EURO 2021 final receiving racist abuse on social media.

‘The fan experience doesn’t stop at the turnstile, it now continues after the match on Twitter, Facebook and YouTube.’ (Toney, 2013)

Devotion

Health

A football fans' devotion towards their team is reflected in the levels they go to show their support. Forms of devotion can be shown in many different ways and can cause physiological and psychological issues.

‘Fans who are strongly fused with their team - that is, have a strong sense of being 'one' with their team - experience the greatest physiological stress response when watching a match,’ said Dr Martha Newson, researcher at the Centre for the Study of Social Cohesion, at Oxford.

Dr Martha Newson at Oxford underwent a study by taking the saliva from football fans and found heightened levels of cortisol which increases blood pressure and damages weakened hearts. Cortisol also has increased psychological issues such as it gives people a feeling of impending doom, that their life is in danger, or they are under attack.

Economic

The amount a fan is willing to spend also shows the levels of devotion they possess. In the Premier League the average match going football fan will be spend 13% of their annual salary per season on tickets, merchandise and food and drink on a match day. This statistic doesn’t take into consideration the added TV subscriptions and streaming services to watch football in order to show their ongoing support.

‘With fans now running the risk of being priced out of football, we’re glad to uncover the true cost that fans are now expected to pay.’ Layla Johnson, Regional Manager at Creditfix.

The European Super League

When this situation arose in April 2021, 12 of Europe’s biggest teams proposed to form their own league, leaving the rest of the world of football behind. This caused a huge rift across fanbases with 79% of all fans strongly opposing the idea, 89% believe it’s for financial gain and not in the fans' interests.

Fans began turning on their own teams and questioning their devotion all together resulting in marches outside stadiums and boycotting games as well as asking for their teams to be heavily fined and have points deducted. This shows the extremes of this situation with devoted fans turning against their beloved clubs due to their insensitive actions.

Violence and crime

The role of being a fan can be taken to extremes, with their love and devotion being taken too far resulting in violence and crimes being committed.

For example, this season both West Ham United and Aston Villa had fans banned from European fixtures due to a small group of people causing issues in foreign cities. These leaves a large majority of fans missing out on potentially a once in lifetime opportunity of watching their team play in European competition and also labelling all supporters as ‘hooligans’ even though it’s the minority rather than the majority.

In 2022, Nottingham Forest drew Leicester City at home in the FA Cup - considered to many as an East Midlands derby. With there being a strong dislike between the two sets of ‘fans’ it resulted with fighting in the streets and shops and a pub window being smashed. This left many fans of the two respected clubs after seeing the aftermath take to social media platforms and voice their embarrassment for what they have witnessed.

After the Covid-19 pandemic lockdown (March 2020-July 2021) there was an increased rise in incidents occurring in football games across England and Wales. Such as a 59% increase in football arrests compared to pre-pandemic, hate crime incidents rose by 99% and number of pitch invasions up by 127%.

Seeing change in the future

Sport as a whole is such an influential environment for many and is a brilliant way to connect with people, have conversations and debates on a variety of topics. Fandom as a concept shows the extremes on both sides; on one hand you can see people come together with a common goal of supporting their team and on the other hand taking their passion and devotion too far, representing it in a negative sense by expressing their views via aggressive words or actions. The positive change required in sport fandom is for the people to use their voice in a way to ‘block out’ the negativity by having great conversations which spark ideas and discussions across groups of people.

N1021356

#Football #PremierLeague #Englishfootball #Fans #Supporters #Fandom #Devotion #EuropeanSuperLeague #Violence #SocialMedia

[soundsandnoises]

GREEN DAY with MAID OF ACE and NOTHING BUT THIEVES. Wembley Stadium, London. 29/06/24

4:10 AM I take a photo in front of the mighty Wembley Stadium, sky above is becoming more blue with each second, blue hour is losing its grip before sunrise... In my mind gloomy scenarios tell me there will be so many people waiting in a queue... Within five minutes I reach the Yellow Zone, assigned entrance. One look at the people there and it's actually not so bad. Can't be more than twenty - thirty people ahead of me, can't tell for sure: most is wrapped in all sorts of cocoons and/or burritos (blankets, duvets, sleeping bags) with a small tent marking the beginning of the queue. Some are awake, polite greetings are exchanged and before I know it there's a full on, easy-going conversation happening, rather cheerful mood at the quite ungodly hour. It's established that we're sort of left in a limbo: the person responsible for numbering the fans is fast asleep, so the waiting is a bit on edge. The usual: toilet, food, coffee questions appear. Too early to tell, too early to be opened, too soon to go – especially without the number that would ease up the mind, that things can go according to plan in such a massive event. People show up, relieved that the ones already waiting are not a mass amount,VIPs and front pitch standing co-exist cordially, blended until separated by the security. Time passes surprisingly quickly. People wake up, chat, wander. My coffee craving is satisfied. I'm half-awake, half-terrified of the vastness of the stadium. I can do it. Information float, some true, some false – everyone just needs to know the amount of VIPs, so they can assess if there's even a slight chance to get to the front, if it actually pay of to be there as early as afternoon the day before (or maybe earlier). Time goes. Sun lurks from behind the stadium, while we count our blessings that it's dry and relatively warm. We won't know what hit us. Soon enough the sun is out in its full glory, concrete elevating the temperature, crowd – mostly clad in black begins to roast. Sunscreens are involved, the anticipation and tension go head to head. Pressure is high as the temperature of the air. It's so lovely the toilets are available, it's so lovely you can roam freely to shops so you can quench the thirst coming at you like Sahara's sandstorm. I can do this. Somehow. Things will go according to plan. Maybe. The entry points are turnstiles, there is a reader for the ticket next to each of them. What can possible go wrong? So what's the amount of the VIPs again? It's multiplying. They go, we stay behind, deflated a bit, defeated. It goes the way it goes, inside the stadium, but not there yet, people are mad, screwed, squeezed and frustrated, security leads the way – wanted to get to the right side? Tough. They led to the left. Decisions, decisions, decisions: far left at the barrier or second/ third row in the middle. I have become comfortable: I choose survival. The view could be better, the massive speaker scares the crap out of me, will the earplugs save me this time? But, but... I'm here. I made it.

MADE OF ACE rip through the sticky summer air with their gritty punk rock sound like seesaw through the block of wood. The wall of sound coming at me from the speaker takes some getting used to. My first thought is: if that's so loud I am royally screwed when Green Day starts. But, I'm going to worry about it later. I nod along to the rhythm, watching four sisters warming up Wembley Stadium for main act. The crowd seems to be favourable. Good. It's rough, it's unapologetic and raw and girls are not taking any prisoners. It's a great start.

I am more than excited for NOTHING BUT THIEVES, yet worried a bit – it's such a different vibe from the opening act. But fans are strong with this one. Conor's voice soars through the air, the band is perfectly synced and they are so ready for it, to conquer it. Their rock music with electronic and pop twists bursts in intriguing key changes and rhythms to dance to [like nobody's watching]. They're unique, aiming high and delivering such a great and entertaining show I wish it could last a little bit longer.

I might be far from others making sure the band gets warm welcome, but I surely am having fun. Until the waterworks start, that is. 'Sorry' makes my eyes fill with tears, even though seconds before I was just joyfully screaming my lungs out to 'Welcome to DCC' and 'Trip Switch' (I was really looking forward to hear the latter, since it didn't make the setlist in Cardiff Castle and it's such a great song to turn lukewarm crowd into red hot – not that it was lukewarm in Wembley, cause it seemed rather great and responsive). As if it wasn't enough 'Overcome' completely breaks me. All the feelings. Funny sensation in my throat, eyes sting, tears roll through my cheeks and it's so exhilarating. I really want to believe the words: 'we shall overcome, as we've done before'.

A little game of hide and seek: Tré's drums are wrapped in black fabric. At first I don't think much of it, but when someone checks the drums [again] and I see amused face of crew member standing at the back it clicks. The cheers coming from the crowd closer to the centre adds to my curiosity. Suspicions are confirmed as soon as I catch the glimpse of blue hair behind the black wrap. Tré plays for a bit, checks a thing or two and leaves sneakily as fans cheer from joy. Pumped up much? Here comes the Bunny. Man, that furry has seen some better days. The only thing that seems to be clean, the person under the Bunny suit is wearing, are white gloves. But who cares. Rock ain't a clean game, it's gritty, dirty and so much fun. The demented mascot cranks it up with some antics onstage getting the crowd to cheer, howl from laughter and making sure fans are so ready for it before he's 'forcibly' pulled from stage. It might be a same, old act, but it's so good to see it. Here we go!

First tunes of 'The American Dream is Killing Me' make the crowd erupt with joy, even though relatively new compared to songs from 'Dookie' and 'American Idiot' it receives the welcome it deserves and it is so on!

Like bullets sprayed from the machine gun songs from 'Dookie' are spitting out from the stage. Hit and scream. Louder, faster. I am having a blast [pun so inteded!]. Few songs in, the girl behind me laughs 'my watch thinks I'm working out!'Oh, sister, yes we are: let's jump together, clap those hands and scream the lyrics like there's no tomorrow, like it hasn't been 30 years from 'Dookie''s release. 'Welcome to Paradise' is pure gold and the crowd is red hot, emotions are bubling on the surface, happiness is so tangible it's just glorious. Everyone's a basket case when 'Basket Case' starts and madness prevails to the very last note of it. But hey, all the best people are mad, aren't they? Normal is boring and there's nothing normal about Green Day ruling the crowd with sing alongs, “ooohs” and waving and jumping. There comes 'She' and there's no settling, Billie Joe's son Jacob takes over playing guitar and he's father's so amused, and so proud, too. Crowd is overjoyed to say the least. As the song finishes Billie Joe announces: 'My son, Jacob, you guy's made him shit his pants!' When you think about it – it's insane to share the stage with his dad, with Green Day and play in front of nearly 80 000 people, so... Kinda cool. Pace is murderous, but fun is spreading like a catastrophic contagion, there's no escape. It's intense, so intense that people go down and because Green Day is punk, but it's there for their fans the show stops until people are safe and taken care of which results in devoted applause from the crowd and then another one when Billie reminds everyone that at Green Day shows when someone goes down, we pick 'em up, we take care of each other. All is love and rock and roll. The show starts and goes like a sports car engine, from zero to whatever high speed, within seconds. Here we go again [Mamma Mia! No wait, wrong show, still fun is fun].

Also there's no Green Day show without some comedy stand-up of sorts, or shall I say: Tré being well, Tré. 'All By Myself' is as bonkers as it has always been as GD's drummer struts his stuff in leopard printed dressing gown, teasing and tempting. Perfect finish of 'Dookie' celebration.

The middle part of the show, it would be unfair to call it an intermission, really, is filled with shenanigans. Obviously. 'Know You Enemy' is known to be the bit when a fan is invited onstage. For a second there, I thought the plan has changed, but no. I am beyond excited to see Venetia, who I've met at another concert and who was the first person in our queue, to get the chance to belt out the lines of the song and then take a dive onto the crowd (and getting a shout out from Billie for such an impressive crowd surf, he laughed that she had to the front from all the way back).

What else? Well, imagine the whole stadium chanting the intro to Black Sabbath's 'Iron Man' – epic!

And then Jesus of Suburbia takes the residence and makes himself rather comfortable at the Wembley Stadium. The dusk is upon the crowd, but it seemed that it is an incentive to shine brighter, to scream louder. 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' takes me by surprise. Not the fact that I don't know it, or that I don't know it is coming, since tracklist isn't a surprise.

'(…) My shadow's only one that walks beside, my shallow heart's the only thing that's beating...'

In that moment an empty shell that used to be my heart becomes somewhat alive. A phantom is beating out of time. My eyes start to sting again, throat squeezed from the funny feeling as I choke on words I scream: 'Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me, 'Til then I walk alone.' Tears roll through my face as sadness takes over, as I let it all out and let it go. The sensation lingers [understandably] over 'Are We the Waiting', I'm sure not only for me. There is something special going on during that show, that moment. Thousands of lights lighting up the stadium, flickering, poignant and vulnerable (but on the other hand – another incident occurred and 'Boulevard' has to be stopped and restarted due to injury in the crowd/someone fainting and Billie making sure they are helped).

'Wake Me Up When September Ends' always has been a powerful song to me, special to so many no doubt. I'm sure many have personal connection to the lyrics, to the way this song makes them feel. The day of Green Day's concert it would have been my mom's birthday. But cancer takes and shatters lives. So many years have passed and yet 'as my memory rests, but never forgets what I lost, wake me up when September ends.' In the fragility of the moment I fall apart there and then, trying very hard to console myself enough to carry on and soak the good energy coming from the stage.

Because I am truly having the time of my life there. Reconnecting with my younger self, full of hope and feeling happy, if only for a while.

I'm sure this feeling is something that dawned over so many during this show, whilst it blew minds of the ones seeing Green Day for the first time, because it was really magnificent with fireworks, floating airplane, colourful confetti, the pyro so strong I was wondering if my hair would burn. The strength of a singalong from the throats of 75 000 people. The pure joy or rock and roll, words gaining meaning and meaning so much to so many.

'So take the photographs and still frames in your mind, hang it on a shelf in good health and good time […] For what's it worth it was worth all the while. […] I hope you had a time of your life'

I surely did. Green Day's milestones were universal and personal at the same time. It was a celebration. And I have a drumstick to prove! And yes, I am aware there were many of them thrown towards the crowd (Tré threw a bucket of them and bunch of confetti, and then a bunch of confetti on Billie, who stood there stunned, taking it all in, moved by the response and devotions of Green Day fans), but I fought for mine and I got it despite my butter fingers, so there. Green Day are absolute legends and they know how to entertain, please, tease and command the crowd and Wembley Stadium was a fitting place for them to finish UK tour. You had to be there.

The photo I take after the gig: nose is red from all the crying, eyes are tired, I'm clutching the drumstick like my life depends on it. I am happy, I promise. Or I was. But it's over now.

But I can't help to think that Green Day's music shaped me, comforted me: Twenty years ago I went to their show and it blew my mind, it being the first show I paid for with hard earned money or hard saved it was definitely special. Naïve, as I was back then, I remember strolling towards the venue around early afternoon and being shocked by the winding queue. And then fighting for survival inside while trying to sing what I could remember, taking crappy photos with my crappy phone camera/compact camera (some things don't change, but that's a different story. My friend back then peeled off the poster announcing the show, one of my most cherished mementos, still somewhere boxed in my old stuff. Green Day are heroes. Forever etched in my broken heart.

Setlist:

Intro:

Bohemian Rhapsody/ Blitzkrieg Bop/ Intro theme ("We Will Rock You", "I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll", “The Imperial March")

The American Dream Is Killing Me

DOOKIE:

Burnout

Having a Blast

Chump

Longview

Welcome to Paradise

Pulling Teeth

Basket Case

She (with Jacob Danger Armstrong)

Sassafras Roots

When I Come Around

Coming Clean

Emenius Sleepus

In The End

F.O.D.

All By Myself

Know Your Enemy

Look Ma, No Brains!

One Eyes Bastard

Dilemma

Minority

Brain Stew

AMERICAN IDIOT:

American Idiot

Jesus of Suburbia

Holiday

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Are We the Waiting

St. Jimmy

Give Me Novacaine

She's a Rebel

Extraordinary Girl

Letterbomb

Wake Me Up When September Ends

Homecoming

Whatsername

Bobby Sox

Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)

[szrssecurityswingturnstile]

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[scotianostra]

On October 31st 1903 Hampden Park stadium opened in Glasgow as the home of Queen’s Park Football Club.

Sources differ some say October 25th but SFA state 31st, I think the confusion is that there ws a previous stadium called Hampden, it is now occupied by railway lines and a lawn bowling club named Hampden Bowling Club. It opened on 25th October 1873 and closed 10 years later. It was the first enclosed stadium with turnstiles in the country

Hampden was the biggest stadium in the world, it would hold this record until 1950 when The Maracanã Stadium in Rio, it held and incredible 199,854 for the final.

Back to Hampden, it opened for a league game on this day in 1903, three years late it held it’s first international when Scotland played England in front of a crowd of 102,741 people, which established Hampden as the primary home of the Scotland team.

Attendances continued to increase during the remainder of the 1900s, as 121,452 saw the 1908 Scotland v England match. A new world record of 127,307 were in attendance to see Scotland play England in 1912.

World record crowds attended Scotland matches against England in 1931 and 1933 and it was 33 that saw the first team from mainland Europe, Austria visit the stadium. Further ground improvements increased the official capacity of the ground to 183,388 in 1937, but the SFA were only allowed to issue 150,000 tickets for games. The 1937 Scotland v England match had an official attendance of 149,415, but at least 20,000 more people entered the ground without tickets.

During WW2 a government official presented an order demanding that both the Hampden and Lesser Hampden pitches be ploughed and used to plant vegetables, but the Queen’s Park committee chose to ignore the order and the government did not pursue it.

Hampden hosted the 1960 European Cup Final; Real Madrid defeated 7–3 Eintracht Frankfurt with 130,000 people in attendance. By the time the next European cup final was held in 1976 between Bayern Munich of West Germany and Saint-Étienne of France the attendance had fallen to 54,670. The French complained about the goalposts stating that two of their efforts which hit the square crossbar and rebounded into play would have resulted in goals if it had been round!

Hampden was aging and the capacity was cut 81,000, redevelopment started in October 1981 and completed in 1986, reduced the capacity to 74,370 and cost £3 million. After the cancellation of the annual Scotland v England fixture in 1989, questions were raised as to whether Scottish football required a separate national stadium, other venues were mooted but the SFA and the stadium committee rejected these and after securing a grant of £3.5 million in 1992, work to begin on a £12 million project to convert Hampden into an all-seater stadium, Hampden was re-opened for a friendly match between Scotland and Netherlands on 23 March. The final stage of the renovation began in November 1997, costing £59 million, inevitably the price soared but Hampden was re-opened for the 1999 Scottish Cup Final. The ground now has a capacity of 51,866.

The stadium was again fit to host the top matches and Real Madrid were again victorious when Hampden Park hosted the 2002 UEFA Champions League Final, defeating Bayer Leverkusen, with Zinedine Zidane scoring the winning goal with a left-foot volley.

In 2012, a Scotland women’s national football team game was played at Hampden for the first time, when it hosted the first leg of a European Championship qualifying playoff against Spain and Hampden was temporarily converted into an athletics stadium for the 2014 Commonwealth Games.

To celebrate the 60th anniversary of the European Championship in 2020 the National stadium has been chosen by Uefa as on of 13 venues for the competition and I am sure the people of Scotland will welcome whoever is chosen to play in Glasgow.

With the advent of big stadium concerts Hampden has been used to host a wealth of worldwide acts Genesis and Paul Young performed in the first concert at Hampden, in 1987. The Rolling Stones played there in 1990, during their Urban Jungle Tour. Since the redevelopment of Hampden was completed in 1999, many acts have performed there, including The Rolling Stones, Rod Stewart, Tina Turner, Bon Jovi, Eagles, U2,Oasis, George Michael, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Neil Diamond, Take That, AC/DC, Bruce Springsteen, Coldplay, Pink, Paul McCartney, Rihanna, and Beyoncé.

In 2018 the SFA )Scottish Football Association)agreed a £5m fee for the national stadium with Queen's Park, just this year it was used to host games in the delayed Euro 2020 matches. The stadium recently played host to the 15oth anniversary Scotland v England match, the lesssaid about that game the better! ;)

The pictures show the changes to the stadium over the past 118 years.

[tripodturnstile]

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