Imagine if you ate ballpark concession food every night. Imagine how bad your ass would hurt after the daily confetti commode explosion rendered by yet

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Best Press Buffet

Safeco Field

Imagine if you ate ballpark concession food every night. Imagine how bad your ass would hurt after the daily confetti commode explosion rendered by yet another three-dog night. Imagine how fat you'd be. This is the reality of all but the most disciplined modern-day sportswriters. Roughly half these men—and I say men because this is one of life's male-dominated professions—stave off obesity through morning hotel treadmill romps or angel-kissed metabolisms. But most sportswriters just accept the fact that their bodies will never be half as toned as those of the jocks they cover, and wallow in it. The Safeco Field Press Box, however, shows these pot-bellied scribes another way, emphasizing fresh cold cuts, soup, and salad items over fried stuff. It won't give us Ichiro's physique overnight, but at least we won't all look like Carlos Silva anymore.—Mike Seely

 
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