St. Pete with Steve
March 9, 2009
The Phillies played the Cincinnati Reds. The game featured a maverick patio umbrella, lots of home runs, Cole Hamels opening on the mound, and pure and lovely sunshine. For breakfast, I enjoyed a strawberry daiquiri and krautdog, and Steve a cold beer and chili cheese jalapeno dog. We toasted in the sun with huge, childlike grins.
Afterwards (we can't exactly figure out what the final score was, or even if the Phillies won or lost), we went to pick up a beach blanket and lunch. “Welcome to Mo’s!” the taco assembly line cheered when we entered. We noshed on a small taco lunch in the fine establishment, which Cole Hamels apparently patronizes every Sunday after his weekly Jamba Juice stop.
We wandered Honeymoon Island State Park for the rest of the evening – nesting eagles were believed to be feeding newborn chicks along this trail, a sandy path dotted with turtles and speckled with tiny sand crab dens. We collected seashells for an hour or two, found the perfect nook to watch the sunset, and drove to Clearwater in search of the Phillies’ favorite local bar. We had no leads; we just headed to Clearwater.
Downtown Clearwater was pretty dead, offering only what seemed to be the national headquarters of Scientology and some postcards. Next stop: Clearwater Beach. Some of the bars looked like a Phillie or two might enjoy the scene, so we parked and checked out Palm Pavilion and Frenchy’s – both beachfront bars with lots of noise and people. No found no famous ballplayers, only very fried, not-very-delicious food.
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