Running with the Chickens

posted May 14, 2010 9:16 AM by Darc Balog

No, this isn't a watered down versionof Madrid.  About a month ago we moved to El Paso, TX.  Our new neighborhood does not have streetlights.  As beautiful as our neighborhood is we can't see it at night.  Our household goods delivery got to our house at about 7pm, leaving us very little time to unload in the light.  Our neighbor across the street came to welcome us and said he'd leave his outdoor lights on to give us light to see by.  And he gave us use of his personal dolly.  We were so grateful.   I wrote a thank you note the following week (when I'd rediscovered my box of thank you's) but could never seem to catch him when I could deliver it.  A few days ago, my chance finally came.  I sent John across the road to deliver the belated thank you.  He returned with over 30tickets to the local baseball team games, The Diablos.  So last night was the first game of the season and all the men of my family packed themselves into the car to go to James' and Nick's first pro baseball game.  At some point in the game, the boys were approached and asked if one of them wanted to race the chicken.  Nick didn't hesitate; his hand went up.  So they took him down to the dugout.  A few minutes later, Nick's name was announced and he and the mascot, Chicken, made their way to first base.  The race was on!  They rounded second, then third.  As the chicken pulled out in front a lady stepped out to home base and held up a bucket of KFC.  That threw the chicken into a horrified fit.  Nick won the race! Do we have video?  Nope.  Chappy didn't realize what was going to happen and so didn't prep his phone for recording. Good times!