When one mixes sex with baseball, it’s amazing how heady a mixture that is. The smell of fresh-cut grass, the sound of bat hitting ball, the taste of a hot dog, all these things mean summer to me. Welcome to Part One of The Florida Trip. This is intended as a direct sequel to my previous Trip series, The BaseballTrip. Think of this as The BaseballTrip: Season Two. You don't have to read the original story to get what's going on here, but it'll definitely help. Myself, my high school buddy Jim, and Julia, my current college roommate -- baseball fanatics all -- were supposed to be leaving the next morning for a roadtrip across the Midwest. We'd been planning it for months. Seven cities and six ballgames over ten days. But losing Jim meant we had to forfeit. Post-sex Kelsey was dreamy, her discussions meandering. She found everything funny and almost no question was out of bounds. I was in post-coital bliss, myself. Just sort of entranced by the multi-striped wallpaper of our hotel room. Our baseballtrip still had to hold the appearance of being about baseball.
