Take me out to the Beach.
Yesterday, I took a 5 p.m. break from doing nothing all day. Someone's gotta do it right? It's a tough life.
And I walked the 3 blocks down to the waterfront and beach. You cross a major 4-lane divided street to get to the "malecon" (Spanish word for beachfront walkway or sidewalk).
In Mazatlan, the malecon extends for several miles along the waterfront, and is a popular venue for rollerbladers, joggers, couples necking, or old farts like myself just wandering aimlessly. I plopped myself down on a cement cylinder separating the sidewalk from the sandy beach. And I watched a pick-up-game of softball. Except it wasn't softball. I'm used to the Chicago variety, 16-inch. This was played with a much smaller ball. Smaller even than a regular baseball. It was young kids and teenagers, playing barefoot. And apart from the ball not rolling very far in the sand, it's pretty much like baseball back home. Ground balls are tough, though. One of the teams even had 3 GIRLS on their side. The girls played best. And foul balls? Those are the ones that go in the ocean. Really.