As if Finn McSpool wasn’t already having quite the summer with a trip to (and bear sighting in) Veneta, Oregon, and his winning feats at the Portland Highland Games, the little monster recently spent a fine evening at the baseball game. Although he avoided (narrowly) getting bonked on the head with a foul ball, there was a tragic moment of heartbreak for poor Finn.

What Do Pickles Have to Do With Baseball or Portland?

Okay, I’m not much into sports, but when Mr. Husband’s employer offered up free tickets to a local baseball game and food as part of their annual employee picnic, well, I still hesitated. Then, when Mr. Husband said, “It’s $3 craft beer night at the game,” I was oiling up my glove, throwing on my cap, and wondering what was taking him so long to get in the car.

The local team is the Portland Pickles. I kid you not. The Pickles. It’s not like Portland is world-renowned for its pickle production. I could understand the Portland Hazelnuts, or even the Portland Grapes (the nearby town of Hillsboro already stole the name Hops). And if you’re going to go the alliteration route in naming your team, why not the Portland Pears, the Portland Pestos, or even the Portland Parsnips?

In truth, I think the team manager just found a cheap pickle mascot costume on eBay and thus the name was born. The team started in 2015 and is made up of college students who haven’t quite cracked into the big leagues yet (“cracking” now has me wondering what happened to the Portland Pecans or the Portland Pistachios).

Finn Falls for Dillon the Pickle

As I mentioned, the Pickles have their own mascot who is named Dillon (you can read his rags-to-riches story here). Even though he comes from Ireland where tales of giants abound, Finn himself had never encountered a six-foot tall pickle before and was in awe when he saw Dillon. After Mr. Pickle kindly agreed to have his photo taken with Finn, the little Beastie was star-struck and was convinced he and Dillon were going to be besties for life.

Dillon this. Dillon that. To shut Finn up I headed over to the beer cart and snagged my $3 deal, which was a good thing because the free food Mr. Husband’s work had promised, well, let’s just say it was a bit lacking, not only in taste and quality, but also in existence when they ran out. And there wasn’t even a pickle to be had!

Finally, the ceremonial first pitches were thrown by the higher ups at Mr. Husband’s work and it was time to Play Ball!

The Never-Ending Game

The trouble with baseball is that it goes sooooo sloooowllllly and the only real entertainment is drinking (and eating, but since there was no food….). Okay, there was a little excitement as foul balls kept launching out to the parking lot and setting off car alarms, and when a foul ball almost konked a woman in the head right in front of us, but other than that…just glad it was $3 beer night.

Watch yer noggin”!!

Unfortunately, when you’ve got a monster sharing your beer, it’s hard to make a pint last. Plus, with all these nail-biting thrills, I barely managed to get my first beer to hold out through the most of the second inning. Let’s just say, I took my time walking over  to get another.


Tragedy at the Ballpark

When I got back, I noticed Finn was upset. I thought it was hunger, so I offered him a few sips of hoppy nourishment. After guzzling the entire thing (he so owes me $3!), he was wobbling a little but still upset. “What is it, Finn?” He couldn’t speak, so just pointed to something happening behind me.


Yes, that’s right, Dillon was dancing with someone else. And not only dancing, but doing it right in front of Finn as if flaunting that he had found a new friend, a friend that was more fun, a friend who could shake her groove thing.

Caught in the act!

I told Finn to look away, but that was an even worse idea because that had him looking right at the scoreboard. Even though we’d already been at the game for two hours, it was only the bottom of the fourth inning. I couldn’t take any more of the boredom or of Finn’s sorrow, plus I was out of beer. Time to go.

Beastie Batter Up

On our way back to the car (parked well away from any foul balls), we found a baseball and gave it to Finn to cheer him up. It helped bring a little smile to his beastie face. By the time we got home, the beer had really hit and he decided to make a belt out of my ID band (which I suppose is better than a lampshade on your head).

Finn, always on the edge of fashion.

He was also eager to try his paw at being a catcher. “Finn, are you sure this is a good idea? You’ve had a lot to drink?” He was sure. Thankfully he had set up camp on the couch because let’s just say his hand eye coordination could use some work.

After a few tosses though, he actually managed to catch one and was feeling pretty proud of himself. Although Finn has insisted that we no longer buy pickles, dill, sweet, or otherwise, until the pain goes away, his inner diva is back in full swing and he asserts that Dillon (or “the stupid cuke” as he is now  known) doesn’t know what he’s missing .


Thanks for stopping by everyone! Have you had any sporting fun this summer? I’ll be back next Wednesday to show off a little art news!!


Last Days to Save 50% On Your Next Summer Read!!!

We’re running down to the final few days of the Smashwords Summer Book Sale!! From now through the end of July, you can save 50% on all my e-books via the Smashwords Summer Sale*. Just head over to Smashwords right now and use code SSW50 at checkout to take advantage of the savings before the sale ends.

*The discount makes all my books $2 or less, and at Smashwords you can download your new ebooks in any format you need…unless of course you have some weird e-reader that uses code written in a language known only to a small population on a remote island in the Pacific Ocean. If that’s the case, you’re on your own.

Here’s how to get your bargains….

  1. Go to my Smashwords Profile (or see direct book links below)
  2. Select one (or more, hint hint) of my books that grabs your interest
  3. Add the book(s) to your cart
  4. At checkout, enter code SSW50. This will knock the book price down by 50%.
  5. Complete your checkout
  6. Download your book
  7. Make cup of tea (iced or hot, depending on how the weather is behaving) and enjoy some reading time.

Handy Direct Links to Your Next Read…





11 thoughts on “Finn Gets in a Dilly of a Pickle at the Baseball Game

  1. This was hilarious! Hahaha… I hate to tell you, Finn, but that ‘stupid cuke’ is actually TERRIFYING. I was dying laughing about the awesome dancing woman. I so feel your pain–baseball is the WORST besides the beer. I’ll never forget a game I went to on a date where the guy was so serious about the sport that he banned all talking and laughter during the gazillion hour event of boringness…how fun! Kill me! I guess I’ll have another $12 Bud Light!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. What cruel sort of person takes a date to a baseball game?! Was it a test to see if you could endure each other under painful conditions? I agree baseball is fun…for the first two innings. Then it’s like, “Oh dear god, there’s SEVEN more!!! Noooooo!” Dillon is a bit creepy. I want to know why he’s trying to disguise himself with those glasses. Either he’s a serial killer or a hipster wannabe, either way…scary.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Oooooh, that big mean ol’ pickle! How dare he? I’m impressed at Finn’s restraint though… In his place, I would have gone home and chowed my way through an entire jar of gherkins, cackling insanely as I sank my teeth into them. But that’s just me. And hey, the evening wasn’t a complete loss – $3 beers! A symphony of car alarms (that cracked me up – how did the organisers not see that coming?)! And at least you weren’t watching cricket! 😂
    Also, I love that Finn now has his own profile page AND he features in your site tagline! I’m sure he’ll be back to his usual diva-ish self in no time!


    1. Yeah, I’m not quite sure whose brilliant idea it was to set up the parking lot that close to the field…perhaps one of the auto windshield replacement companies had a hand in the design. As for the gherkin gnashing, Finn probably would have, but those paws just aren’t made for jar opening. Luckily those $3 beers were there to take away some of the pain (both of the pickle betrayal and the game watching).


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