Take me to the ballgame

The sound of the pilot's voice came over the aircraft's public address system and he jolted back into reality, the man's voice advising the various passengers to place their seatbelts back on as the plane was making its final approach at this time

With a slight turn of his head he looked out of the passenger planes window and could see the airport below slowly coming into view, the sensation of the descent now forming in his stomach, a sensation he had never really enjoyed, but a little late to be worrying about that now.

"I must be crazy," he said aloud, the words for himself only, but carrying enough volume over the noise of the aircraft to be heard by the passenger who sat beside him in the aisle seat.

"What's that?" the voice of the man beside him asked, a touch of confusion in the question as he seemed to not know if the question had been directed at him or not or the least favourable scenario being he had been placed next to a lunatic who had picked this moment to lose the plot entirely.

There was a clicking sensation in his neck as he turned from the window to see the man sitting next to him, it was suddenly very surreal to him, had he not just sat next to the other passenger for the entire flight from London and never stopped to take a moment to even give him the once over.

"What did you say man" the question was now more direct and he realised he had made his crazy statement a little bit too loudly. this is enough to draw his full attention from his thoughts and reaches up and slips his headphones from his ears and rests them around his neck.

The man beside him was dressed in an oversized jersey of some description, it was an overly bright shade of red with some white and yellow around where the man's waist made it stretch outwards, the main part of the jersey emblazoned with a giant white coloured letter C which seemed to have flames projecting from the back of the letter.

For a moment he seemed to be hypnotized by the oversized letter on the clothing, but the man's voice spoke again and once more he snapped back into some semblance of reality.

"You ok man?" he asked, his voice showing some obvious discomfort at the way things seemed to be going.

"Yeah, yeah. I am good" he quickly responded and this seemed to settle his fellow passenger enough that the weak smile offered after the yeah, yeah, I am good was enough not to look creepy.

"So, the first time coming to Canada," the man asked, the accent now breaking through the noise of the cabin.

"Oh yeah, first time, I mean I have been to America, but not Canada" the words delivered with confidence and then the sheer stupidity of the sentence sunk in and he felt his stomach begin to sink, whether through his moment or a combination of trying to jam his foot into mouth proverbially and the plane making its final descent.

The Canadian just laughed at this and seemed to shake it off like it was nothing new, "it's all good man, not the first time I have heard that" he offered, his voice showing the good humour he felt.

"Thanks, I am looking forward to the trip," he said in response, the feeling of awkwardness still pressing against the pit of his stomach, not quite to the point he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him, but enough that he would not mind hiding in the airliner's bathroom.

"So, business or pleasure," the Canadian asked as he shifted in his seat slightly, a hand running over the belt that kept him secured in the aircraft's seat.

Turning in his seat, he shifted his body to face the other man, the question now rolling over in his mind and spinning like the hourglass symbol that would come up when your computer decided it was going to either crash or just keep you waiting for a while longer.

"I am going to a baseball game"