Previously, I’d described my habitus as the map I have in which I’m tracking which baseball stadiums I’d been to, and which ones I still need to conquer. Prior to this tracking system, I had developed a collection to commemorate where I’d been, and perhaps piece together when. In every trip I’d take, every stadium I’d attend, I would purchase the souvenir cup. The plastic, oversized cups used for marked up beverages, something I was willing to pay an additional $10 for, and may every time. That endeavor, assuming I ever attend all 30 parks, will run me $300 (another $230 now), before even considering tickets and travel.

All 7 cups in order in which I bought them. Left to right: Yankees (2009), Orioles (2009), Rangers (2012), Mets (2012), Red Sox (2016), Nationals (2016), Phillies (2016)

Despite this low-value exchange, I have a fond attachment for my collection. I must concede that if they were animated, and hoping to be used for drinking, they’d be bitterly disappointed in the role they play. I use them as a display, and a reminder of where I’ve been, and when I see seven, I remember that I still need 23 more.  These seven plastic cups, varying in size though I’d venture approximately 32 ounces, all made in China, have the team logos, promotions, and the season’s schedule. I have accumulated this collection over time, ranging from 2009-2016, I would presume each one was manufactured in the year in which I bought it.  They vary in the messages they send, and are meant for drinking, I suppose, given that they are literally called souvenirs.  These cups obviously haven’t changed hands much, from manufacturer to buyer to the stadium concession stands where I purchased them.  I would enjoy my beverages on some hot days and nights, and some much cooler than I’d like (night games in May tend to leave you a little numb from cold).  Perhaps the most interesting part of compiling this collection is how difficult it is to get the cup from cupholder back to my house.  They’re so big and clunky and often still wet or sticky, without a lid to hold everything in.  It honestly is far more of a challenge than one would believe.  That fact, the obnoxious task of having to bring the cups from stadium to home, only increases my appreciation of them, as it is far more of an investment than it seems, I promise.  I’m sure you’ve all done it at one point or another, and you’ll probably agree, it’s just not as simple as bringing it home, there’s always something else at play.