I always complain about the $11 burgers, $9 watered-down beers and $14 hot dogs at baseball games.  I'll always complain (it's what I do), but now I at least know WHERE that money goes.

Sunday morning meant a trip to Round Rock for an Express game.  It had been several years since I'd been to a game, but I've never left without having a good time.  I've called state championship baseball games there.  I've seen live music there.  I've had dreams of having the money to rent out the pool at the game.

I can't even recall who's won the games I've attended.  The reason, and it's well-known to anyone who's been to a Round Rock game, is the overall experience.  My older son, Tyler, had a tour to attend two hours prior to game time.  That meant I had two hours to fill with my 6-year-old, Logan.

Walking up to the huge inflatable rides sitting directly outside the ballpark I already had my wallet out, prepared to pay.  Imagine my surprise when not a dollar was spent for 45 minutes of fun that left Logan.. spent.  Into the ballpark we went, where my wallet got all the work it DIDN'T get outside.  $4.50 for a water, $6.50 for a pretzel, $5 for peanuts and another $5 for Cracker Jack's that never got touched.

After downing a pretzel it was off to the outfield playground.  Since we were still VERY early there wasn't much of a crowd.  That meant Logan got to run all over the place, not knowing what to do next.  He decided to give the radar gun a go.

It was after a few trips to the radar gun that Logan went back to the playground.  It was there, with me checking/updating Facebook & Twitter as any good parent does while their child plays on the playground, that he came running at me crying and saying there was something sharp that stuck him on the playground.

Somebody's gonna be mad at me when they find out I posted this pic online. Photo by me.

I looked and looked but couldn't find a splinter.  There was no blood.  After about 30 seconds of him crying because of the pain I began to see a mark  that looked like a bug bite of some sort.  Nothing seemed to help the pain, but he was determined to climb back up the playground to find what hurt him.  It was on the return trip that we found the culprit.

As Logan tried to come down the slide, we both saw a couple yellow jackets swarming around him.  He got away, but he was done with the playground.  We both sat down in the shade and waited for the game to begin.  After not being able to help with the pain and seeing the swelling in his hand (he got stung right in the webbing between the thumb & forefinger), I asked an usher if he could direct me to where I could find an ice pack.

He didn't just point me in the direction.  He personally escorted us to the First Aid room, where he and another woman looked after Logan and got him a few ice packs until the paramedics came back.  The usher, in the time we spent waiting, got the ice packs and took down our names, seat numbers and phone numbers so they could check on us later in the game.  The paramedics, when they arrived, did the same.

Beautiful day for a game. Photo by me.

The usher also got specific details of where the yellow jackets were found, and he made the calls to get the crew out there to eliminate the threat.  Logan kept the ice packs on his hand, and by the 4th inning the swelling was completely gone.  By the 7th inning, Logan was back playing on the playground and back at the radar gun.

While he never beat the mark he set pre-sting at 35-MPH, he still walked out of there loving his experience.  When he talks about this game, chances are good he'll remember and talk about the radar gun, the fireworks after home runs and maybe only a casual mention of the yellow jacket sting.  Then again, he's kind of dramatic.  Maybe he'll milk it for sympathy.