10 Reasons Why We'd Never Survive a Marathon Baseball Game

Let's get this out of the way up front. We're not covering the steroids bullsh*t. We're so over this. It's not like they've released new, shocking names like TOWSNBN or Brett Gardner. It's the same crap over and over and over again. It's like watching Old Yeller more than once. The dog still dies at the end! The ending doesn't change no matter how many times you watch it and wish it did!

Brief intermission: Serena's iTunes just shuffled Damn Yankees (oh, how fitting) "High Enough" and we felt compelled to burst into song with some awesome, enthusiastic 80's dance moves. 

Last night, the Mets lost to the Marlins 2-1 in a 20-inning marathon game. That's the length of more than 2 games. The Mets basically lost 2 games. Kevin Slowey and Shaun Marcum pitched 7-8 innings in relief, which is longer than most starting pitchers last on a normal day these days. The game lasted OVER 6 hours. Not as long as it took us to drive to and from DC last year for the Nats' game, but still pretty damn long. We probably would've needed a nap somewhere in there. Like the 11th inning. By the 13th or 14th inning, we would've been hurling insults at the players on the field. On both teams, let's be real. Marlin or Met, it would've made no difference. How hard it is it to score one damn run in TWENTY innings? It's sh*t like this that makes Lisa regret her decision last night. As much as we love baseball and close games, here's a list of reasons why sitting through a 20-inning game would be painful:
1. We get hungry often. To top it off, we eat a lot. 6 hours is a long time for us to go without food and food is extremely expensive at ballparks. We'd be broke by the end of the game. We'd probably spend our gas money on a hot dog.
2. If we spend our gas money on a hot dog, we'd be stranded at the ballpark.
3. We have undiagnosed ADD. We can't sit still for that long without breaks. We'd probably get it in our heads to go on a "really awesome" mission, which will most likely get us thrown out of the ballpark and onto the stadium's "LIST." You know what list we're talking about.
4. Unless you're sitting in the luxury boxes or the cushy expensive seats in field level, there isn't a single stadium that can boast seats comfortable enough for your ass survive 6 hours in.
5. They stop serving alcohol in the 7th! What a goddamn nightmare! 13 innings without unplanned additional booze?! It's like being stranded on a desert island without water!
6. Our smart phones are not equipped with the battery life to survive a 20-inning ordeal or Lisa's addiction to Candy Crush.
7. Swamp ass/breast sweat definitely would've gone into effect. It's June. Yesterday in particular was humid for New York. We probably would've made the mistake of wearing jeans and sneakers, so it would have been extra sticky and damp.
8. The extra hours spent at the ball park is time where we probably missed other cool shit happening. Like barbecues. Taco Bell. Pizza. Chipotle. Getting set up with an unemployed alcoholic with a passion for telling tall tales. Watching an Archer and/or The League marathon. Pretending to exercise. Googling 1980's music videos. Wearing Jesus Christ band-aids. Registering for more runs that we don't enjoy doing, but have really great gimmicks like medals. Runners love gimmicks.
9. There's absolutely no way your fantasy league starting pitcher is able to earn a complete game. Furthermore, if one of your starting pitchers who hadn't been scheduled to pitch, therefore you didn't start him, enters the game in relief, you've lost the opportunity to benefit from any points he might earn.
10. If your team loses, you leave the ballpark feeling like that's 6 hours of your life you'll never get back. Then you go home, drown your misery in Patron/Johnny/Jameson, and wake up without pants in some poor decision's bed, wondering why your life is such a fail.

Additional Baseball Notes:
Andy Pettitte notched his 250th career win yesterday over the Mariners, making him the 47th pitcher in MLB history to do so, all just one week shy of his 41st birthday. The Big Texan's son was also drafted by the Yankees in the 37th round of the draft this week, so there's a lot of joy in Pettitte-ville.

This isn't a very long, intense blog today for we are off to the Wanderlust Festival: Yoga in the City at Pier 63. Will post pictures. Either to Facebook, Twatter (@TravelingBBabes), or Instagram (also @TravelingBBabes). We're not sure. You'll need to follow us on all accounts just to be safe. Ohmmmmmm.