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At this stadium (in its pre-refurbished state), I once met Jim Bouton, whose Ball Four (a beat-up copy of which I found in some secondhand store as a kid) was enlightening in the extreme to a young baseball fan.

Yes, of course I am talking about sex.

This guy, over the right-centerfield wall -- do what now?
Down by the Willamette there was some sort of pre-Cinco-de-Mayo celebration going on.

Tangential note: If you like Mexican food, do not ever accept offers of Mexican food in the Pacific Northwest. It will only break your heart.

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