By Buster Gunning It was another sunny, uncomfortably hot day in Phoenix when an old mate of mine convinced me to take in a Diamondbacks game at Chase Field. Since I had never been, I decided to accept the offer. Starting off at a bar across from the field, we decided it was best to get intoxicated. Your standard Phoenix bar, it was full of half-naked women selling over-priced beer out of a tub, the more naked the female, the longer the line. I tried desperately to make conversation over the high-decibel blaring of only the finest Nickelback songs. Deaf from the music and blinded by the constant vapor pouring from the many misters; we decided to make our way to our seats. The energy was intense as the announcer introduced the home-town heroes to a 1/8th capacity crowd. Once the players were introduced and the first Pizza Hut promotion was finished, we were ready to enjoy some exciting Diamondbacks baseball. The crowd was lifeless throughout the opening innings; not even the racing Oscar Meyer hot-dogs on the Jumbo-Tron could get them off their feet. The green hot-dog won the race making for another successful promotion that had little to do with the sport of baseball. It was during the bottom of the 4th inning when I decided to leave. No amount of $8 beers was going to ease this pain I was experiencing. It was already and hour and a half into the game and I had already witnessed four cheesy promotions and one wave involving three or four fans from each section. I am not sure who won, I am not even sure who the Diamondbacks played. All I know is that I am over going to an Arizona Diamondbacks game ever again. Buster Gunning is currently hiding from a drunken Phoenix mob and is thinking about making Coors Field (they sell Coors right?) his next stop on his ballpark tour, email him at: [email protected] The preceding article is actually sadly true.