Day 3: COMMENCE!

I’m going to make this short and sweet. Because I’m running late again. #Jam @Jam Jam is my name, blogging in no time’s my game. But the reason I’m doing it in a rush before work, rather than in the comfort of my parents’ house, is I was kept up late by the other cool kids vying for a spot in the MLB Fan Cave. I’m a novice Twit, so I was learning as I went, but damn it was fun.

I sat for hours last night on my phone, iPad, laptop…whatever I could get my hands on to make the Tweeting go faster. I dreamed of hash tags and twit pics. Only for six hours though, because before I knew it, the morning was upon me and I had to come here.

The Twonversations (Twitter-conversations) were epic, the Twaughs (getting it yet?) were fantastic, and I’ll never see Bronus -DAMN!- Honus Wagner in the same light. Nor Bro Mauer, Brose Cansecbro or Brohan Santana. My Dodger jersey is going to have to be altered; James Broney is a much more suitable surname.

Take a minute, and join in on what you missed. Follow me @jamblinman and while you’re at it, cast your vote for the best baseball movie ever made. Mine is the Natural. We had votes for the Sandlot, Major League, A League of Their Own, Field of Dreams…the list goes on.

All I know is that this #MLBFanCave thing is really fun, but absolutely killing me. I don’t want it to end. But I do. Because it’s stressful, and exciting and ruining my sleep pattern. It’s like two straight weeks of Christmas Eve, except only 50 people in the world get to anticipate the presents in the morning. While I’m usually humble, I’m damn proud to be apart of that group. If you’d make me one of the final 30 who show up to the tree in the morning, I would love you forever. Because God (and Santa) knows that I don’t want to stop tweeting and twaughing and twalking with these wicked rad finalists I’m competing against.

There goes my phone. Do I even check it? Or ignore…

@Tweet. #Duh.

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