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First row

Thursday, August 1st, 2002

In the words of Costanza: "Look at where we are! He's not stopping! He just keeps going and going and going!"

The escorted trip toward the field is a thrill for any baseball fan's life. And when the usher goes all the way to the first row, a row ahead of Costanza, the thrill hits tilt and becomes surreal.

Thursday night I got to live the tilt. On the second night of the Braves homestand against the Brewers, CNN generously took its master's fellows to the company box. These seats are best defined as "just to the left of where Ted Turner (owner, proprietor) sits." For more exact placement, have a look at this picture. See the on-deck batter swinging by the stands? If he moved one yard to his left and one yard back, he would be sitting in the CNN box.

As one of my fellow fellows (*country club laugh*) put it, the experience is like being in a videogame. The players walk by, making traditional baseball gestures (swinging, scratching, etc.), as if you weren't sitting feet away. Yes, you could yell to get their attention ("Geeeeene Larrrrrrrkin"), but these close-enough-to-hear-you players are also close enough to reach out and punch you.

Readers may be realizing now that this post is all about how good the seats were. Well, yes.

How good were the seats? The seats were so good, the Braves staffed an usher to do your food, drink and possibly bathroom runs for you.

How good were the seats? The seats were so good, we got hit with dirt when the on-deck players swung. (Me: "I could've grabbed Chipper's bat." Female who sat nearby: "I could've grabbed Chipper's butt.")

How good were the seats? We were on TBS. The Superstation!

How good were the seats? I got hit by a car on the way to the seats and I didn't care. Crossing from the parking lot to the stadium, we walked behind a little SUV sitting at the light. I happened to be behind him when he decided to pull back, out of the crosswalk where he was idling. Thump.

Luckily he stopped at that sound and didn't knock or run me over. Because to die en route to one's best baseball seats ever — speaking as a fan — that would be a horrible, horrible way to go.