OOOOOH! Winston is parent-shaming! Yep. Someone has to.
I'm donning my Captain Obvious hat here. The lower rows of a baseball park are dangerous. Balls, sometimes bats fly unpredictably into the stands.
Even the most dim-witted, distracted fan has to understand that. You're inattentive, and take a ball upside your head, you deserve it. You know who doesn't? Your small child you put in harm's way.
There are two very obvious solutions to this problem. The first is not to bring little kids that close to the field. It's such freaking common sense I feel like I'm explaining "fire is hot" to a caveman. The second solution is to actually pay attention to your child, and the game you paid to come see. IN THAT ORDER. Not you cell phone. Or your Sushi-On-A-Stick. Pay friggin' attention. As a parent, you have one job. ONE JOB!
It's not Almora's job. Or MLB. Or Rawlings. It's your job to protect your kid.
Immediately afterward, the cowards that always blame things and not people were screaming about installing more nets "to protect the fans".
Christ, where does this end? 40,000 sets of helmets and full protective gear? Nonsense.
Here we are. Lane departure sensors in cars because looking out your windows and using your mirrors is hard. Now they want to install sensors in the back seats of cars to remind you that you left your kid. Again, you have one job.
I can almost hear the soft sobbing and angry denial: "I love my child! How dare you!"
Well, I dare because we obviously have a societal problem here. Someone has to call-out the naked Emperor. If that makes me an A-hole, so be it.
And if you love your child, prove it. At the beginning of every baseball game, MLB is kind enough to remind you morons that things fly into the stands. At that time they offer to give you a free exchange of seats to move to a less dangerous area. If you have a young child, do I need to tell you what to do? It appears so.
But you have real nice seats. It's like were back in 50AD Rome, where your societal class dictates where you sit. You must take a bunch of selfies to show-off your status. After you hear that crack, you have about half of a second to react.
And a whole lifetime to regret your hubris.