Thursday, May 29, 2008
The Angels made me sick!
Levi was in town on business, and so were the Angels, which meant it was time for the first official Baseball-Related Program Activities event since the 2004 road trip. The hangers-on were Jason, and Levi's co-worker Carrie.
When Edison International dropped their sponsorship of the stadium in Anaheim, their logos on the end of the seats were covered over -- but you can't stop people from scratching paint off, I guess.
Jim Leyland showed up himself to exchange lineup cards, but Mike Scoscia sent a lackey...
It had been announced earlier in the day that Anaheim would be hosting the 2010 All-Star Game...
My new camera is noticeably faster to actually take the picture once you press the shutter button than my old one was -- making it easier to get shots like this...
Early mound meeting, since Angels pitcher Joe Saunders had given up three runs in the first inning...
They kept having to reset this video display in order to fix this problem...
The Amtrak noise meter, because nothing is as noisy as a train...
The rally monkey was invoked a little late, and so the Angels lost 6-2...
The final line (not quite final at this point, but I was anticipating)...
And finally, a picture to replace the one that's been at the top of this blog since 2004, which I was sick of looking at...
No, the Angels didn't literally make me sick. There was a stomach bug involved. For you fans of Jim Ellwanger illnesses that coincide with baseball games, I also had a stomach bug right around the time I traveled to Chicago and attended Opening Day 1997 at Wrigley Field -- I spent an entire day lying on the floor of the dorm room of Levi's future wife.
When Edison International dropped their sponsorship of the stadium in Anaheim, their logos on the end of the seats were covered over -- but you can't stop people from scratching paint off, I guess.
Jim Leyland showed up himself to exchange lineup cards, but Mike Scoscia sent a lackey...
It had been announced earlier in the day that Anaheim would be hosting the 2010 All-Star Game...
My new camera is noticeably faster to actually take the picture once you press the shutter button than my old one was -- making it easier to get shots like this...
Early mound meeting, since Angels pitcher Joe Saunders had given up three runs in the first inning...
They kept having to reset this video display in order to fix this problem...
The Amtrak noise meter, because nothing is as noisy as a train...
The rally monkey was invoked a little late, and so the Angels lost 6-2...
The final line (not quite final at this point, but I was anticipating)...
And finally, a picture to replace the one that's been at the top of this blog since 2004, which I was sick of looking at...
No, the Angels didn't literally make me sick. There was a stomach bug involved. For you fans of Jim Ellwanger illnesses that coincide with baseball games, I also had a stomach bug right around the time I traveled to Chicago and attended Opening Day 1997 at Wrigley Field -- I spent an entire day lying on the floor of the dorm room of Levi's future wife.
Labels: angels, brpa, carrie adams, game report, jason kaifesh, tigers
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Rays awesomeness watch (now a regular feature, apparently)
After yesterday's 2-1 win over the Yankees, the Rays are now alone in first place in the AL East. They're 7 games over .500 for the first time ever; they've now won 11 home games in a row.
In other news, we have an actual baseball-related program activity (the original rationale for this blog, remember?) coming two weeks from today: Levi will be in L.A. on business, but is taking time out so we can see the Angels play the Tigers in Anaheim. He's been here a few times for his job, but this is the first time he's going to make it to a baseball game.
Can we look back at posts like this one and laugh yet?
In other news, we have an actual baseball-related program activity (the original rationale for this blog, remember?) coming two weeks from today: Levi will be in L.A. on business, but is taking time out so we can see the Angels play the Tigers in Anaheim. He's been here a few times for his job, but this is the first time he's going to make it to a baseball game.
Can we look back at posts like this one and laugh yet?
Labels: brpa, devil rays
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Remember these golden classics
Bet you weren't expecting this at this late date! Courtesy of Mrs. Levi, we have some late additions to the pool of photographs of the 2004 trip. In Cleveland, here are Maura, Jim, Dan, and Dianne, and you may notice that Dan is eagerly showing off a Hostess Baseball:
And eight days before that, in St. Louis, standing in a location that doesn't exist anymore, here are The Flash, Trainman, Cap'n Slap, and Bicycle Repairman (in their not-so-secret identities as Tony, Jim, Levi, and Luke):
And eight days before that, in St. Louis, standing in a location that doesn't exist anymore, here are The Flash, Trainman, Cap'n Slap, and Bicycle Repairman (in their not-so-secret identities as Tony, Jim, Levi, and Luke):
Labels: brpa, cleveland, Dan Rivkin, dianne ketler, luke seemann, maura johnston, photos, road trip, st. louis, stacey shintani, tony becker
Thursday, December 30, 2004
Aerial photos of the stadiums on the trip
There's not much for me to do at work today, so I have plenty of time to play around with Terraserver.
John O'Donnell Stadium, Davenport, Iowa (picture taken pre-renovation, so it doesn't quite look like this now)
Busch Stadium, St. Louis, Missouri (not zoomed in any farther because I like the fact that the Gateway Arch is in the shot, too)
Comerica Park, Detroit, Michigan
Fenway Park, Boston, Massachusetts
The future site of Citizens Bank Park, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania (in the parking lot to the east of Veterans Stadium)
The future site of PNC Park, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania (replacing the buildings to the north and west of the second bridge east of Three Rivers Stadium)
Jacobs Field, Cleveland, Ohio (right at the junction of two aerial photos, so it looks a little disjointed)
U.S. Cellular Field, Chicago, Illinois
Miller Park, Milwaukee, Wisconsin (under construction)
And while I'm at it, here are the other baseball stadiums where I saw games this year...
Yankee Stadium, New York, New York (as a special bonus, with a subway train passing right by the stadium at the moment this photo was taken)
Tropicana Field, St. Petersburg, Florida
Petco Park, San Diego, California (under construction)
Dodger Stadium, Los Angeles, California
Angel Field of Anaheim, Anaheim, California
John O'Donnell Stadium, Davenport, Iowa (picture taken pre-renovation, so it doesn't quite look like this now)
Busch Stadium, St. Louis, Missouri (not zoomed in any farther because I like the fact that the Gateway Arch is in the shot, too)
Comerica Park, Detroit, Michigan
Fenway Park, Boston, Massachusetts
The future site of Citizens Bank Park, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania (in the parking lot to the east of Veterans Stadium)
The future site of PNC Park, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania (replacing the buildings to the north and west of the second bridge east of Three Rivers Stadium)
Jacobs Field, Cleveland, Ohio (right at the junction of two aerial photos, so it looks a little disjointed)
U.S. Cellular Field, Chicago, Illinois
Miller Park, Milwaukee, Wisconsin (under construction)
And while I'm at it, here are the other baseball stadiums where I saw games this year...
Yankee Stadium, New York, New York (as a special bonus, with a subway train passing right by the stadium at the moment this photo was taken)
Tropicana Field, St. Petersburg, Florida
Petco Park, San Diego, California (under construction)
Dodger Stadium, Los Angeles, California
Angel Field of Anaheim, Anaheim, California
Labels: brpa, photos, road trip
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Roundup
I've had a bunch of BRPA2004-related items bouncing around my head all week, some new, some forgotten items from our actual trip, but work has been busy. So now, with a free fifteen minutes, a list:
1) Overheard on our way across the Roberto Clemente Bridge to PNC Park, we overheard a kid tell his dad, "We'll be at the game today, so we won't have to watch it on TV!"
2) In Pittsburgh, for sale on the street near the ballpark, there was a yellow t-shirt with fake bullet holes on it that read, "Where was Ray Lewis when Joey Porter got shot?" On the back, it read, "Scoring dope for a teammate!"
3) And on a t-shirt I saw outside Comiskey, "Baseball's not boring. You are." Luke and I agreed that while the shirt was more or less right, we would neither one wear it.
4) King Kaufman of Salon.com has been running the Barry Bonds is MVP Stat of the Day for a week or so in his column, running through all the ways in which Bonds is almost lapping the league offensively. It's been fun--as King Kaufman usually is--so you might check it out. My favorite part of it was a reader's response to Kaufman's suggestion that a new term needs to be created to describe second place when it's as far from first place as is usually the case when you're looking at Bonds's stats. A sad Democrat suggested "Mondale."
5) The Cardinals clinched their fifth division title in nine years Monday while in Milwaukee. According to the Post-Dispatch, several Cardinals after the audience had left climbed to Bernie Brewer's house, posed for photos, and slid down the slide. I assume Steve Kline was involved.
6) I can't find the story, but it was also reported that at Monday's game, Tony LaRussa was nearly taken out by Bratwurst when he came out of the dugout right in the middle of the sausage race. Where's Randall Simon when you need him?
Jim: It mentions the Tony LaRussa bratwurst incident in the same Post-Dispatch story where it mentions the Bernie Brewer slide incident.
By the way, for those not fortunate enough to be hangers-on: after Levi saw the "where was Ray Lewis when Joey Porter got shot" T-shirt, it was pretty much all he talked about for the rest of the trip. And it's not even baseball-related, except for the fact that the vendor was attempting to sell it to people attending the Pirates game.
Speaking of which, sad news from Pittsburgh...not baseball-related, but related to a different kind of ball. I know Kevin Martin, subject of the article, from 1998, when I was a member of the Steel City Pinball Association, although I'm not sure if he'd remember me at all. You may note, if you scroll down to the individual standings, that he had a 49-17 record and I was 27-39. He also has enough money to buy warehouses, and a Ferrari.
Levi: The Ray Lewis t-shirt just astounded me with its vitriol and crassness. I mean, it wasn't even a t-shirt about the team playing that day, or a Pittsburgh team at all--it was a t-shirt about one of the Steelers' rivals! Talk about unpleasant obsessions.
Toby: You have to understand that the Ravens are actually the original Cleveland Browns. Though the rivalry isn't as balley-hooed (sp.?) as the Yankees-Sox, there is probably as much animosity between Pittsburghers and Clevelanders.
When I visited Pittsburgh (along with Levi's sister) a couple of years ago, we left the same day as the first-round playoff game in which the Steelers came back from a huge deficit to beat the "new" Browns.
It was quite evident all across town how Pittsburgh felt about the Browns.
thatbob: "Ballyhooed," according to Google and m-w.com.
Um, thanks Levi, I had never before seen the sausage race as a metaphor for becoming distracted from our Christian faith by the smaller details of Christian community. That's because I'm not a batshit crazy Christian looking for a homily metaphor in every moment of modern life! Did you look at John2117.org? It's jaw-droppingly amazing!
1) Overheard on our way across the Roberto Clemente Bridge to PNC Park, we overheard a kid tell his dad, "We'll be at the game today, so we won't have to watch it on TV!"
2) In Pittsburgh, for sale on the street near the ballpark, there was a yellow t-shirt with fake bullet holes on it that read, "Where was Ray Lewis when Joey Porter got shot?" On the back, it read, "Scoring dope for a teammate!"
3) And on a t-shirt I saw outside Comiskey, "Baseball's not boring. You are." Luke and I agreed that while the shirt was more or less right, we would neither one wear it.
4) King Kaufman of Salon.com has been running the Barry Bonds is MVP Stat of the Day for a week or so in his column, running through all the ways in which Bonds is almost lapping the league offensively. It's been fun--as King Kaufman usually is--so you might check it out. My favorite part of it was a reader's response to Kaufman's suggestion that a new term needs to be created to describe second place when it's as far from first place as is usually the case when you're looking at Bonds's stats. A sad Democrat suggested "Mondale."
5) The Cardinals clinched their fifth division title in nine years Monday while in Milwaukee. According to the Post-Dispatch, several Cardinals after the audience had left climbed to Bernie Brewer's house, posed for photos, and slid down the slide. I assume Steve Kline was involved.
6) I can't find the story, but it was also reported that at Monday's game, Tony LaRussa was nearly taken out by Bratwurst when he came out of the dugout right in the middle of the sausage race. Where's Randall Simon when you need him?
Original comments...
Jim: It mentions the Tony LaRussa bratwurst incident in the same Post-Dispatch story where it mentions the Bernie Brewer slide incident.
By the way, for those not fortunate enough to be hangers-on: after Levi saw the "where was Ray Lewis when Joey Porter got shot" T-shirt, it was pretty much all he talked about for the rest of the trip. And it's not even baseball-related, except for the fact that the vendor was attempting to sell it to people attending the Pirates game.
Speaking of which, sad news from Pittsburgh...not baseball-related, but related to a different kind of ball. I know Kevin Martin, subject of the article, from 1998, when I was a member of the Steel City Pinball Association, although I'm not sure if he'd remember me at all. You may note, if you scroll down to the individual standings, that he had a 49-17 record and I was 27-39. He also has enough money to buy warehouses, and a Ferrari.
Levi: The Ray Lewis t-shirt just astounded me with its vitriol and crassness. I mean, it wasn't even a t-shirt about the team playing that day, or a Pittsburgh team at all--it was a t-shirt about one of the Steelers' rivals! Talk about unpleasant obsessions.
Toby: You have to understand that the Ravens are actually the original Cleveland Browns. Though the rivalry isn't as balley-hooed (sp.?) as the Yankees-Sox, there is probably as much animosity between Pittsburghers and Clevelanders.
When I visited Pittsburgh (along with Levi's sister) a couple of years ago, we left the same day as the first-round playoff game in which the Steelers came back from a huge deficit to beat the "new" Browns.
It was quite evident all across town how Pittsburgh felt about the Browns.
thatbob: "Ballyhooed," according to Google and m-w.com.
Um, thanks Levi, I had never before seen the sausage race as a metaphor for becoming distracted from our Christian faith by the smaller details of Christian community. That's because I'm not a batshit crazy Christian looking for a homily metaphor in every moment of modern life! Did you look at John2117.org? It's jaw-droppingly amazing!
Labels: barry bonds, brpa, Cardinals, King Kaufman, pittsburgh, road trip
Sunday, September 12, 2004
Alternate universe version of the trip, number three
As promised a while back, here are the scores from Itinerary Number Four.
Monday, August 30: Astros 11, Reds 3
Tuesday, August 31: Mariners 7, Blue Jays 5
Wednesday, September 1: Cubs 2, Expos 1 (11 innings)
Thursday, September 2: Red Sox 4, Angels 3
Friday, September 3: Orioles 3, Yankees 1
Saturday, September 4: Phillies 7, Mets 0
Sunday, September 5: Frederick Keys 3, Wilmington Blue Rocks 2
Monday, September 6: Orioles 4, Twins 1
Tuesday, September 7: Pirates 2, Brewers 0
Wednesday, September 8: Royals at Tigers...rained out!
Aside from the Orioles-Yankees game that prompted Kevin Brown to punch the wall, I don't think there's anything too special here. And a rainout would have been a horrible way to end the trip. Knowing what I know now, I'm glad Levi chose Itinerary #3. Thanks, Levi!
Levi: You're welcome.
And not only was it a rainout, it was one of those that probably won't even be made up later, since it's the Tigers and Royals. Sad.
Levi: Oh, and by my quick estimation, we'd only have gone 4-5, if we rooted for the teams I imagine we would have rooted for.
Jim: On the other hand, we could have spent a full couple of days with my aunt and uncle, instead of just seeing them during one game (since they're close enough to Wilmington, and maybe even Baltimore).
Monday, August 30: Astros 11, Reds 3
Tuesday, August 31: Mariners 7, Blue Jays 5
Wednesday, September 1: Cubs 2, Expos 1 (11 innings)
Thursday, September 2: Red Sox 4, Angels 3
Friday, September 3: Orioles 3, Yankees 1
Saturday, September 4: Phillies 7, Mets 0
Sunday, September 5: Frederick Keys 3, Wilmington Blue Rocks 2
Monday, September 6: Orioles 4, Twins 1
Tuesday, September 7: Pirates 2, Brewers 0
Wednesday, September 8: Royals at Tigers...rained out!
Aside from the Orioles-Yankees game that prompted Kevin Brown to punch the wall, I don't think there's anything too special here. And a rainout would have been a horrible way to end the trip. Knowing what I know now, I'm glad Levi chose Itinerary #3. Thanks, Levi!
Original comments...
Levi: You're welcome.
And not only was it a rainout, it was one of those that probably won't even be made up later, since it's the Tigers and Royals. Sad.
Levi: Oh, and by my quick estimation, we'd only have gone 4-5, if we rooted for the teams I imagine we would have rooted for.
Jim: On the other hand, we could have spent a full couple of days with my aunt and uncle, instead of just seeing them during one game (since they're close enough to Wilmington, and maybe even Baltimore).
Labels: alternate history, brpa, road trip
Money matters
This information may come in handy for people planning to take a trip like this themselves. Now that my credit card bill has arrived with accurate Canadian-U.S. dollar exchange figures, I can come up with an accurate figure of my trip-related out-of-pocket expenditures: $2,411.92.
That's kind of misleading, because that includes most of the major expenditures on the trip, which Levi and the other hangers-on are contributing towards, such as tickets to seven of the games (Davenport, Detroit, Toronto, Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, Milwaukee), the $7.00 beers at the Red Star Tavern in Pittsburgh, and...
Airfare, Burbank-Chicago: $235.40
Rental car: $483.69 ("Full size" for 2 weeks plus charge for additional authorized operator)
Seven nights in hotels: $799.65 (I should send Fox a bill for one of these nights)
Watch repair: $2.00
It was worth every penny.
That's kind of misleading, because that includes most of the major expenditures on the trip, which Levi and the other hangers-on are contributing towards, such as tickets to seven of the games (Davenport, Detroit, Toronto, Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, Milwaukee), the $7.00 beers at the Red Star Tavern in Pittsburgh, and...
Airfare, Burbank-Chicago: $235.40
Rental car: $483.69 ("Full size" for 2 weeks plus charge for additional authorized operator)
Seven nights in hotels: $799.65 (I should send Fox a bill for one of these nights)
Watch repair: $2.00
It was worth every penny.
Labels: brpa, road trip, statistics
Monday, September 06, 2004
Vital statistics from the trip
Lowest price we paid for gas: $1.789 per gallon, at a Sunoco on the Ohio Turnpike.
Highest price we paid for gas: 85.9 Canadian cents per liter, at a Shell on Highway 401 in Ontario. ($2.498 U.S. per gallon, if I did the conversions correctly.)
Highest price we paid for gas in the U.S.: $2.259 per gallon, at an Exxon off I-287 just north of the New Jersey border. We were pretty close to "E," which is why we didn't try to make it all the way to New Jersey before filling up, and worried about making it to Princeton on time for Maura's radio show, which is why we didn't want to stop twice, to get a little gas in New York and then fill up in New Jersey.
Number of blisters I ended up with: 2 (heel of left foot and middle toe of right foot)
Things Levi said every time a song came up on my iPod: "Nice" or "This is on my iPod, too."
Most exciting unexpected treat: Free Blue Bunny Bomb Pops at the game in Davenport.
Second most exciting unexpected treat: Free Nestlé Crunch With Peanut Butter candy bar for buying a 20-ounce Vanilla Coke at an Ohio Turnpike service plaza.
Most expensive hotel: Hilton Pittsburgh ($109 plus $24 parking).
Least expensive hotel: Travelodge Montreal Centre ($89 plus $13 parking, or about $78.50 U.S.).
Least expensive hotel, honorable mention: Travelodge Harrisburg ($72 plus $10 rollaway bed charge).
Strangest hotel room configuration: Travelodge Montreal Centre, with the two beds turned 90 degrees from each other and the TV hanging from the ceiling.
Last sign along the road in Ontario: "Construction 1.5km"
First sign along the road in Quebec: "Travaux 1km"
Most pleasant surprise involving an A&W restaurant: The A&W at the Woodfield Mall in Schaumburg, Illinois, is a full-fledged restaurant, not just a stand in the food court, which means they use actual frosty mugs for root beer floats.
Best pinball performance: The Addams Family at Novelty Golf in Lincolnwood, Illinois (three games on one quarter).
Most unexpected safety message on the back of a truck: "A rolling ball is followed by a running child."
Thing I found hardest to believe: Princeton University's free visitor parking.
Cause of only wrong turn we made: The driving directions on Princeton's web site don't clearly indicate that Nassau Street is also New Jersey state highway 27.
Most crowded public transit vehicle: The outbound Green Line trolley in Boston, after it changed from a 2-car train to a 1-car train.
Thing that happened to Levi that I'm most glad didn't happen to me: Booth clerks in both the Toronto and Montreal subways angrily tapping on the glass at him.
Best ticket disclaimer: "The Illinois Railway Museum is not a common carrier. Its rail operations are for demonstration purposes only."
Best seats we had to pay for: Davenport.
Best seats we didn't have to pay for: Pittsburgh and Cleveland, because just about any free ticket is a great seat.
Most annoying service charge: Toronto, which charged an extra $2.50 for tickets purchased at the Skydome ticket windows.
Places where good and pure Coca-Cola was served: St. Louis, Toronto, Montreal, Boston, Philadelphia.
Honorable mention for serving Dr Pepper along with Pepsi: Cleveland.
Special honorable mention for egalitarianism unusual despite having a captive audience: American Airlines, which serves Coke, Pepsi, and Dr Pepper.
Number of times we heard "God Bless America" during a 7th-inning stretch: 1 (in Cleveland, and the game still lasted only 1 hour and 56 minutes!)
Thing I wished I'd heard during a 7th-inning stretch: "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" in French, but it was only played in English at Olympic Stadium.
Most boring drive: Detroit to Toronto.
Only advantage to the most boring drive: Because of the use of kilometers instead of miles, the exit numbers seemed like they were increasing really, really fast!
Best doughnut: The Krispy Kreme raspberry-filled my co-worker Joe brought when he picked me up at the Burbank airport at the end of the trip. (Sorry, Tim Horton's.)
Best use of a logo: The Indians' "I," which shows up on ballpark signs and other places; e.g., the ushers' buttons say "How may 'I' help you?", and the tickets read "'I' am a true fan!"
Only ballpark still ripping tickets instead of scanning them: Busch Stadium, St. Louis (presumably, they've already got the scanners ordered for the new Busch Stadium).
Team and stadium taking the theme a little too far: The Swing of the Quad Cities and John O'Donnell Stadium, where the restrooms are labeled "guys" and "dolls" and the ushers are called "stagehands."
Team and stadium not taking the theme far enough: The Swing of the Quad Cities and John O'Donnell Stadium, where the mascots have nothing whatsoever to do with the theme, as far as we could tell.
Greatest Canadian TV moment: Flipping channels in Toronto, I happened upon Stephanie D'Abruzzo of "Avenue Q," in a rerun of one of her "Pyramid" episodes. (It may have been on a Buffalo station, actually.)
Second-greatest Canadian TV moment: Flipping channels in Montreal, I happened upon a "Simpsons" episode dubbed in French. I quickly realized that it was the episode where Bart answers Mrs. Krabappel's personal ad, and then realized that this episode is probably on all the time in Canada, since Gordie Howe is in it (or at least his picture).
Best newspaper subhead relating to a game we attended: "Batista entertains crowd," (Montreal Gazette, August 26) relating to Tony Batista dashing to first base shortly after being hit in the helmet by a pitch.
Best comics page seen on the road: The Boston Globe.
Notable records from games we saw: Jeremy Bonderman, Detroit, 14 strikeouts (most K's by a Tiger in 32 years); Frank Robinson, Montreal, 900th win as a major league manager; Joe Borchard, Chicago, 504-foot home run (longest HR in history of New Comiskey Park/U.S. Cellular Field); Indians vs. White Sox, game time 1 hour 56 minutes (shortest game in history of Jacobs Field).
Tightest-assed ushers: Miller Park (surprisingly).
Most unexpected item found in a rest area: Working music box, to promote a music box museum in Vermont.
Second-most unexpected item found in a rest area: New Hampshire state liquor store.
Biggest problem I had while driving: The cruise control buttons being in different places than on my car.
Biggest problem I had while Levi was driving: His bare feet.
Biggest pleasant driving surprise: Boston drivers didn't live up to their reputation.
Biggest unpleasant driving surprise: Near-blinding thunderstorms in Michigan (which really shouldn't have been that much of a surprise, since it was August).
Highest announced attendance: Brewers vs. Phillies, 40,367.
Highest proportional attendance: Tigers vs. Red Sox, 35,153 (the only sellout on our trip).
Lowest announced attendance: Wisconsin vs. Quad Cities, 3,349.
Second-lowest announced attendance: Phillies vs. White Sox, 5,747 (which apparently didn't count people who got in on rain checks from the originally scheduled date, so there were more people in the stands than that).
Montreal announced attendance, which we were expecting to be lowest: 7,570.
Average attendance: 20,634.
Warmest game: Brewers vs. Phillies, 84 degrees.
Coldest game: Red Sox vs. Blue Jays, 68 degrees.
Average game temperature: 75 degrees.
Total number of home runs we saw: 26
Players we saw hit two home runs: Jason Bay, Pirates; Casey Blake, Indians.
Longest game: Red Sox vs. Blue Jays, 3:17.
Second-longest game: Dodgers vs. Expos, 2:58.
Shortest game: White Sox vs. Indians, 1:56.
Second-shortest game: White Sox vs. Tigers, 2:26.
Average game length: 2:42.
Number of states I passed through for the first time: 3 (Vermont, New Hampshire, Massachusetts).
Number of stadiums I visited for the first time: 10 (only New Comiskey Park/U.S. Cellular Field was a repeat).
Number of big sandwiches I ate: 4 (turkey club at St. Louis Bread Company in downtown St. Louis; Schmitter at Citizens Bank Park; Primanti Brothers sandwich at PNC Park; meatball sub at Jacobs Field)
Number of hot dogs I ate: 5 (John O'Donnell Stadium; Olympic Stadium; Fenway Park; two at Miller Park)
Best hot dog: Miller Park, with mustard (the Secret Stadium Sauce is a little bit sweeter than I'd like)
Number of other sausages I ate: 2 (kielbasa at Comerica Park; cheddarwurst at U.S. Cellular Field)
Number of iced coffees Levi drank: a lot
Number of Hostess Baseballs we ate: a lot
maura: i now have the meth lab 'mary worth' on my fridge, btw.
Levi: Later this week, if I'm on the ball, I'll get the ERA, BA, OBP, SLG, etc. for the teams we were rooting for and against and the combined figures.
'Cause I know y'all are wondering.
sandor: Highest price we paid for gas in the U.S.: $2.259 per gallon, at an Exxon off I-287 just north of the New Jersey border.
This is a good thing. If you had filled up in Jersey, you would have likely forgotten about their "no one touches the pumps but us" rule and tried to put gas in your car ON YOUR OWN, God forbid. That's what we did, thus earning the ire of all within scowling distance. We almost ended up in the nearest river because of it. Moral: best to fill up in Pennsylvania and drive right through.
Jim: I've got relatives in New Jersey, so I've filled up there before (or, rather, other people have filled my car up there before). Even with mandatory full-service, gas there is cheaper than the surrounding states.
Jason: But what about the poutine?!?!?!?
Jim: The poutine was delicious!
Eric J. Ritter: $1.79 is the best you could do for gas?
I just got off the phone with my parents, and they apparently pay $1.60 for gas in Alexandria, Minnesota, home of the Kensington Runestone.
Of course, Alexandria is nowhere near a major league stadium. So I'm not sure what my point is here.
If you're ever in Alexandria, go to the Runestone Museum! Because it's the only thing to do there! And it's kind of amusing.
The price of gas in San Fransisco is currently, like, $5 a gallon. I joke. Because I do not honestly know. I take muni.
Jason: When in Alexandria, make sure to check out the Alexandria Beetles of the Northwoods League!
Highest price we paid for gas: 85.9 Canadian cents per liter, at a Shell on Highway 401 in Ontario. ($2.498 U.S. per gallon, if I did the conversions correctly.)
Highest price we paid for gas in the U.S.: $2.259 per gallon, at an Exxon off I-287 just north of the New Jersey border. We were pretty close to "E," which is why we didn't try to make it all the way to New Jersey before filling up, and worried about making it to Princeton on time for Maura's radio show, which is why we didn't want to stop twice, to get a little gas in New York and then fill up in New Jersey.
Number of blisters I ended up with: 2 (heel of left foot and middle toe of right foot)
Things Levi said every time a song came up on my iPod: "Nice" or "This is on my iPod, too."
Most exciting unexpected treat: Free Blue Bunny Bomb Pops at the game in Davenport.
Second most exciting unexpected treat: Free Nestlé Crunch With Peanut Butter candy bar for buying a 20-ounce Vanilla Coke at an Ohio Turnpike service plaza.
Most expensive hotel: Hilton Pittsburgh ($109 plus $24 parking).
Least expensive hotel: Travelodge Montreal Centre ($89 plus $13 parking, or about $78.50 U.S.).
Least expensive hotel, honorable mention: Travelodge Harrisburg ($72 plus $10 rollaway bed charge).
Strangest hotel room configuration: Travelodge Montreal Centre, with the two beds turned 90 degrees from each other and the TV hanging from the ceiling.
Last sign along the road in Ontario: "Construction 1.5km"
First sign along the road in Quebec: "Travaux 1km"
Most pleasant surprise involving an A&W restaurant: The A&W at the Woodfield Mall in Schaumburg, Illinois, is a full-fledged restaurant, not just a stand in the food court, which means they use actual frosty mugs for root beer floats.
Best pinball performance: The Addams Family at Novelty Golf in Lincolnwood, Illinois (three games on one quarter).
Most unexpected safety message on the back of a truck: "A rolling ball is followed by a running child."
Thing I found hardest to believe: Princeton University's free visitor parking.
Cause of only wrong turn we made: The driving directions on Princeton's web site don't clearly indicate that Nassau Street is also New Jersey state highway 27.
Most crowded public transit vehicle: The outbound Green Line trolley in Boston, after it changed from a 2-car train to a 1-car train.
Thing that happened to Levi that I'm most glad didn't happen to me: Booth clerks in both the Toronto and Montreal subways angrily tapping on the glass at him.
Best ticket disclaimer: "The Illinois Railway Museum is not a common carrier. Its rail operations are for demonstration purposes only."
Best seats we had to pay for: Davenport.
Best seats we didn't have to pay for: Pittsburgh and Cleveland, because just about any free ticket is a great seat.
Most annoying service charge: Toronto, which charged an extra $2.50 for tickets purchased at the Skydome ticket windows.
Places where good and pure Coca-Cola was served: St. Louis, Toronto, Montreal, Boston, Philadelphia.
Honorable mention for serving Dr Pepper along with Pepsi: Cleveland.
Special honorable mention for egalitarianism unusual despite having a captive audience: American Airlines, which serves Coke, Pepsi, and Dr Pepper.
Number of times we heard "God Bless America" during a 7th-inning stretch: 1 (in Cleveland, and the game still lasted only 1 hour and 56 minutes!)
Thing I wished I'd heard during a 7th-inning stretch: "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" in French, but it was only played in English at Olympic Stadium.
Most boring drive: Detroit to Toronto.
Only advantage to the most boring drive: Because of the use of kilometers instead of miles, the exit numbers seemed like they were increasing really, really fast!
Best doughnut: The Krispy Kreme raspberry-filled my co-worker Joe brought when he picked me up at the Burbank airport at the end of the trip. (Sorry, Tim Horton's.)
Best use of a logo: The Indians' "I," which shows up on ballpark signs and other places; e.g., the ushers' buttons say "How may 'I' help you?", and the tickets read "'I' am a true fan!"
Only ballpark still ripping tickets instead of scanning them: Busch Stadium, St. Louis (presumably, they've already got the scanners ordered for the new Busch Stadium).
Team and stadium taking the theme a little too far: The Swing of the Quad Cities and John O'Donnell Stadium, where the restrooms are labeled "guys" and "dolls" and the ushers are called "stagehands."
Team and stadium not taking the theme far enough: The Swing of the Quad Cities and John O'Donnell Stadium, where the mascots have nothing whatsoever to do with the theme, as far as we could tell.
Greatest Canadian TV moment: Flipping channels in Toronto, I happened upon Stephanie D'Abruzzo of "Avenue Q," in a rerun of one of her "Pyramid" episodes. (It may have been on a Buffalo station, actually.)
Second-greatest Canadian TV moment: Flipping channels in Montreal, I happened upon a "Simpsons" episode dubbed in French. I quickly realized that it was the episode where Bart answers Mrs. Krabappel's personal ad, and then realized that this episode is probably on all the time in Canada, since Gordie Howe is in it (or at least his picture).
Best newspaper subhead relating to a game we attended: "Batista entertains crowd," (Montreal Gazette, August 26) relating to Tony Batista dashing to first base shortly after being hit in the helmet by a pitch.
Best comics page seen on the road: The Boston Globe.
Notable records from games we saw: Jeremy Bonderman, Detroit, 14 strikeouts (most K's by a Tiger in 32 years); Frank Robinson, Montreal, 900th win as a major league manager; Joe Borchard, Chicago, 504-foot home run (longest HR in history of New Comiskey Park/U.S. Cellular Field); Indians vs. White Sox, game time 1 hour 56 minutes (shortest game in history of Jacobs Field).
Tightest-assed ushers: Miller Park (surprisingly).
Most unexpected item found in a rest area: Working music box, to promote a music box museum in Vermont.
Second-most unexpected item found in a rest area: New Hampshire state liquor store.
Biggest problem I had while driving: The cruise control buttons being in different places than on my car.
Biggest problem I had while Levi was driving: His bare feet.
Biggest pleasant driving surprise: Boston drivers didn't live up to their reputation.
Biggest unpleasant driving surprise: Near-blinding thunderstorms in Michigan (which really shouldn't have been that much of a surprise, since it was August).
Highest announced attendance: Brewers vs. Phillies, 40,367.
Highest proportional attendance: Tigers vs. Red Sox, 35,153 (the only sellout on our trip).
Lowest announced attendance: Wisconsin vs. Quad Cities, 3,349.
Second-lowest announced attendance: Phillies vs. White Sox, 5,747 (which apparently didn't count people who got in on rain checks from the originally scheduled date, so there were more people in the stands than that).
Montreal announced attendance, which we were expecting to be lowest: 7,570.
Average attendance: 20,634.
Warmest game: Brewers vs. Phillies, 84 degrees.
Coldest game: Red Sox vs. Blue Jays, 68 degrees.
Average game temperature: 75 degrees.
Total number of home runs we saw: 26
Players we saw hit two home runs: Jason Bay, Pirates; Casey Blake, Indians.
Longest game: Red Sox vs. Blue Jays, 3:17.
Second-longest game: Dodgers vs. Expos, 2:58.
Shortest game: White Sox vs. Indians, 1:56.
Second-shortest game: White Sox vs. Tigers, 2:26.
Average game length: 2:42.
Number of states I passed through for the first time: 3 (Vermont, New Hampshire, Massachusetts).
Number of stadiums I visited for the first time: 10 (only New Comiskey Park/U.S. Cellular Field was a repeat).
Number of big sandwiches I ate: 4 (turkey club at St. Louis Bread Company in downtown St. Louis; Schmitter at Citizens Bank Park; Primanti Brothers sandwich at PNC Park; meatball sub at Jacobs Field)
Number of hot dogs I ate: 5 (John O'Donnell Stadium; Olympic Stadium; Fenway Park; two at Miller Park)
Best hot dog: Miller Park, with mustard (the Secret Stadium Sauce is a little bit sweeter than I'd like)
Number of other sausages I ate: 2 (kielbasa at Comerica Park; cheddarwurst at U.S. Cellular Field)
Number of iced coffees Levi drank: a lot
Number of Hostess Baseballs we ate: a lot
Original comments:
maura: i now have the meth lab 'mary worth' on my fridge, btw.
Levi: Later this week, if I'm on the ball, I'll get the ERA, BA, OBP, SLG, etc. for the teams we were rooting for and against and the combined figures.
'Cause I know y'all are wondering.
sandor: Highest price we paid for gas in the U.S.: $2.259 per gallon, at an Exxon off I-287 just north of the New Jersey border.
This is a good thing. If you had filled up in Jersey, you would have likely forgotten about their "no one touches the pumps but us" rule and tried to put gas in your car ON YOUR OWN, God forbid. That's what we did, thus earning the ire of all within scowling distance. We almost ended up in the nearest river because of it. Moral: best to fill up in Pennsylvania and drive right through.
Jim: I've got relatives in New Jersey, so I've filled up there before (or, rather, other people have filled my car up there before). Even with mandatory full-service, gas there is cheaper than the surrounding states.
Jason: But what about the poutine?!?!?!?
Jim: The poutine was delicious!
Eric J. Ritter: $1.79 is the best you could do for gas?
I just got off the phone with my parents, and they apparently pay $1.60 for gas in Alexandria, Minnesota, home of the Kensington Runestone.
Of course, Alexandria is nowhere near a major league stadium. So I'm not sure what my point is here.
If you're ever in Alexandria, go to the Runestone Museum! Because it's the only thing to do there! And it's kind of amusing.
The price of gas in San Fransisco is currently, like, $5 a gallon. I joke. Because I do not honestly know. I take muni.
Jason: When in Alexandria, make sure to check out the Alexandria Beetles of the Northwoods League!
Labels: brpa, road trip, statistics
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
Milwaukee pictures
Hey, we were just at this game!...
Bernie Brewer's slide into oblivion...
Visible at the lower left of the glass wall is a structure that we're assuming is Bud Selig's lair...
Brewers at bat...
Clock with neon bats for hands...
Racing sausages; on this night, the hot dog led wire to wire...
The final line...
Later, back in Chicago, Levi and Jim are still smiling about baseball...
Labels: brewers, brpa, miller park, milwaukee, photos, pirates, road trip
And the last game
Stacey, illegally driving the rental car, met us at the Garfield stop on the Red Line, and within minutes, we were bound for Milwaukee. We had about two-and-a-half hours to make a one-and-a-half-hour drive, and, as they had been all along, the driving fates were with us, as we made Miller Park in plenty of time, navigating through the alluring commingled scents of sausage, beer, and cheese that are the City that Schlitz Made Famous.
To a one, the baseball fans I know--the low-rent, lovers of the run-down and worn that they are--loved Milwaukee’s former ballpark, County Stadium. It was, compared to the new Miller Park, small and homey, and the corrugated iron sheeting that composed its facade gave it a seemingly appropriate resemblance to a factory. Miller Park, on the other hand, is a new-style ballpark through and through. Wide concourses, lots of different stands selling lots of types of sausage, giant parking lots a marathon away from the gate, countless thousands of luxury boxes, and a tower where Bud Selig can sit and stroke his white Persian while sniggering and contemplating whether he should have his contract extended another decade. Even Bernie Brewer moved to a new, upscale home in Miller Park--against his will, I like to assume--his chateau with its front-door slide into the beer stein replaced by a high-end condo and a slide onto . . . a platform. Meanwhile, thee vegetarian food selections at Miller Park, are, as anyone with a passing knowledge of non-Madison Wisconsin would expect, not particularly distinguished or diverse. I had pizza, only discovering as we left that the Gorman Thomas stand would have sold me a Soy Dog, on which I could have put the famous--and mysterious--Stadium Sauce.
At least the sausage race continues, the Brewers still have the feel of a small-town team trying--and, usually, failing--to make good, and with the roof open, I have to admit that Miller Park isn’t that bad. We had great seats on the 8th row down the right field line, from which we had a wonderful view of plays on the infield, and a not-so-wonderful view of Craig Wilson’s shimmering golden locks in the outfield.
But, as Bart Giammatti said, though not meaning it quite so literally as it, sadly, turned out for him, the game is designed to break your heart, and the Brewers--with the able help of Daryle Ward--set about breaking ours with an efficiency any beer factory would envy. Their rookie starter, Ben Hendrickson, threw a good game, but a long home run by Daryle Ward in the second, and a second, longer home run by Ward in the seventh off a reliever gave the Pirates a 5-0 lead that the Brewers’ sadly slumbering offense couldn’t even begin to overcome. In the ninth, the Brewers scored a run off Jose Mesa, the Rungiver, on a triple and a sacrifice fly. The crowd erupted in joy, causing all four of us to look again at the scoreboard to reinforce our suspicions that, yes, that run did leave the Brewers still four back. But no one has ever said Wisconsinites don’t know how to celebrate the finer things in life, and a run is a run is a run, I suppose. I’d have raised it in solidarity, but there wasn’t time, as the Pirates quickly rang down the curtain on BRPA 2004’s winning streak.
But in this life, one savors the little victories, right? So as we drove back to our beloved Chicago, nearly running out of gas on the way, I thought of the ten games we did win, and of the exchange I overheard in the row in front of us. With one out in the Brewer ninth, a man who was at the game with another man and the other man’s ten-year-old son, said to his friend, “You want to go ahead and head out?” The friend replied, “Sure. It doesn’t matter to me.” “What about him?” asked the first man, indicating the child. “I’ll ask him.” Ask he did, and the boy said, “I’d like to stay. But do you want to go?” The man, seeing that he had raised his child in the ways of righteousness, said, “No, let’s stay.”
And stay they did. As I remember once hearing someone say, “See--everything in the world’s not made of toilet.” A fine game and a fine trip, surpassing all expectations. Thanks to everyone who came along, rooted with us, read the blog, or invented baseball all those years ago. And thanks especially to Jim, whose hard work and good company made the whole flawless trip possible. I recommend anyone who is considering any trip anywhere hire him. He’s worth the hefty price I’m sure he’d command.
thatbob: Last year when we went up to Miller Park, the traditional 7th inning stretch version of Beer Barrel Polka was replaced with a vote-by-applause version of some Usher or Nelly song that I couldn't fathom because I'm some kind of old man. But this year, happily, Beer Barrel Polka was back, and I think overall the blaring, rocking stadium sound system was a little better behaved. (Of course we had spent the day being aurally assaulted at Comiskey, so my perceptions may have been skewed.)
The Brittish Rounders Society: You bloody Yanks didn't invent anything. You stole the game from us!
The Native American Battagaway Society: You one to talk, paleface with bad teeth.
Jim: By the way, if it had been solely up to me, I would have chosen to root for the Pirates (because of my brief Pittsburgh-area residency). But I was just one out of four attendees at this game, and I didn't want to press the issue.
To a one, the baseball fans I know--the low-rent, lovers of the run-down and worn that they are--loved Milwaukee’s former ballpark, County Stadium. It was, compared to the new Miller Park, small and homey, and the corrugated iron sheeting that composed its facade gave it a seemingly appropriate resemblance to a factory. Miller Park, on the other hand, is a new-style ballpark through and through. Wide concourses, lots of different stands selling lots of types of sausage, giant parking lots a marathon away from the gate, countless thousands of luxury boxes, and a tower where Bud Selig can sit and stroke his white Persian while sniggering and contemplating whether he should have his contract extended another decade. Even Bernie Brewer moved to a new, upscale home in Miller Park--against his will, I like to assume--his chateau with its front-door slide into the beer stein replaced by a high-end condo and a slide onto . . . a platform. Meanwhile, thee vegetarian food selections at Miller Park, are, as anyone with a passing knowledge of non-Madison Wisconsin would expect, not particularly distinguished or diverse. I had pizza, only discovering as we left that the Gorman Thomas stand would have sold me a Soy Dog, on which I could have put the famous--and mysterious--Stadium Sauce.
At least the sausage race continues, the Brewers still have the feel of a small-town team trying--and, usually, failing--to make good, and with the roof open, I have to admit that Miller Park isn’t that bad. We had great seats on the 8th row down the right field line, from which we had a wonderful view of plays on the infield, and a not-so-wonderful view of Craig Wilson’s shimmering golden locks in the outfield.
But, as Bart Giammatti said, though not meaning it quite so literally as it, sadly, turned out for him, the game is designed to break your heart, and the Brewers--with the able help of Daryle Ward--set about breaking ours with an efficiency any beer factory would envy. Their rookie starter, Ben Hendrickson, threw a good game, but a long home run by Daryle Ward in the second, and a second, longer home run by Ward in the seventh off a reliever gave the Pirates a 5-0 lead that the Brewers’ sadly slumbering offense couldn’t even begin to overcome. In the ninth, the Brewers scored a run off Jose Mesa, the Rungiver, on a triple and a sacrifice fly. The crowd erupted in joy, causing all four of us to look again at the scoreboard to reinforce our suspicions that, yes, that run did leave the Brewers still four back. But no one has ever said Wisconsinites don’t know how to celebrate the finer things in life, and a run is a run is a run, I suppose. I’d have raised it in solidarity, but there wasn’t time, as the Pirates quickly rang down the curtain on BRPA 2004’s winning streak.
But in this life, one savors the little victories, right? So as we drove back to our beloved Chicago, nearly running out of gas on the way, I thought of the ten games we did win, and of the exchange I overheard in the row in front of us. With one out in the Brewer ninth, a man who was at the game with another man and the other man’s ten-year-old son, said to his friend, “You want to go ahead and head out?” The friend replied, “Sure. It doesn’t matter to me.” “What about him?” asked the first man, indicating the child. “I’ll ask him.” Ask he did, and the boy said, “I’d like to stay. But do you want to go?” The man, seeing that he had raised his child in the ways of righteousness, said, “No, let’s stay.”
And stay they did. As I remember once hearing someone say, “See--everything in the world’s not made of toilet.” A fine game and a fine trip, surpassing all expectations. Thanks to everyone who came along, rooted with us, read the blog, or invented baseball all those years ago. And thanks especially to Jim, whose hard work and good company made the whole flawless trip possible. I recommend anyone who is considering any trip anywhere hire him. He’s worth the hefty price I’m sure he’d command.
Original comments...
thatbob: Last year when we went up to Miller Park, the traditional 7th inning stretch version of Beer Barrel Polka was replaced with a vote-by-applause version of some Usher or Nelly song that I couldn't fathom because I'm some kind of old man. But this year, happily, Beer Barrel Polka was back, and I think overall the blaring, rocking stadium sound system was a little better behaved. (Of course we had spent the day being aurally assaulted at Comiskey, so my perceptions may have been skewed.)
The Brittish Rounders Society: You bloody Yanks didn't invent anything. You stole the game from us!
The Native American Battagaway Society: You one to talk, paleface with bad teeth.
Jim: By the way, if it had been solely up to me, I would have chosen to root for the Pirates (because of my brief Pittsburgh-area residency). But I was just one out of four attendees at this game, and I didn't want to press the issue.
Labels: bob conrad, brewers, brpa, game report, miller park, milwaukee, pirates, road trip, stacey shintani
Chicago pictures
Hey, should we stay home and watch this game on TV instead?...
The newly-renovated stands at U.S. Cellular Field...
And the newly-renovated outfield...
There's a weather vane by the Sox bullpen...
The final line...
And now, we've got another game to get to...
Labels: brpa, chicago, phillies, photos, road trip, u.s. cellular field, white sox
It's late, but here's the Monday wrap-up: Game 1
After Sunday’s game, we truly entered the home stretch of our trip, getting back to the Rocketship in time for the late dinner Stacey had waiting for us Sunday night. In exchange, we offered her the last of the Hostess Baseballs, a treat she declined. Bob at it later, to no one’s surprise.
Monday morning dawned cloudy and gray, but who cares? We had survived eight nights in hotel beds without getting scabies or being devoured by bedbugs. We had survived nine days of road food without getting scurvy. Jim even ate all the vegetables that were put in front of him, which I hope will reassure his mother. So who cared that it looked rainy? Like Team USA Basketball, we were sure of our powers. Our luck would hold. Unlike Team USA Basketball, we were right, for the most part.
Needing to run 20 miles to keep up with my marathon training, I decided to run the sixteen miles to my office, plus a bit, then shower at the gym, go through my email for an hour, then head back north to Comiskey Park. Jim, demonstrating yet again that he’s by far the most sensible member of BRPA 2004, slept in, then he and Bob met me at the ballpark.
I suppose I should describe Comiskey Park. I’m guessing most of our legion of fans have been there, but a few words are in order in case. Those words are: sterile, boring, styleless, loud, and a right impressive ripping-off of the taxpayer. But for all that, I do think Comiskey is a bit better than the terrible reputation it has. The vertigo-inducing upper-deck seats are a bit better these days, as the team in the offseason replaced the top rows of them with a roof, and when there are 50,000 people in the park and the Sox are soul-destroyingly bad, it can be a fun place to see a ballgame or, apparently, attack a base coach.
Mondays at Comiskey Park are half-price days, and every Illinois resident should go to a couple a year, as they’re paying for them, via a shady deal the Sox signed when Illinois built the new ballpark for them whereby they only pay rent if they draw X large number of fans at full price in a season. Only about 5,000 of them decided to exercise that option Monday. Maybe they knew what Bob, Jim, and I didn’t: that the baseball on Monday would be of about half-price quality, too.
Entering this game, the White Sox were 7 for 67 with 20 strikeouts in 18 scoreless innings. Today, they fell behind early, made a couple of errors, ran the bases in extravagantly bad fashion, and just looked like a team that was determined to break BRPA 2004’s perfect rooting record. But then Joe Borchard hit a 504-foot home run, the longest in the history of New Comiskey (Bob, Jim, and I didn’t think it was that long, but we don’t have the official How-far-did-it-fly calculator, so what do we know?), the Phillies, taking their defensive cues from the Pale Hose, botched a rundown and had their pitcher and catcher trip over one another while failing to field a bunt, and suddenly, the Sox were leading 9-6. It was about the most lackadaisical and sloppy 9-6 attainment of a 9-6 lead that you’ll ever see, but a lead’s a lead.
Fan favorite Shingo Takatsu entered the game in the 9th, to the joy of the 5,000 faithful and the five camera operators, who got a chance to put their finding Asian fans in the stands skills to the test. He promptly surrendered a 2-run homer to Jim Thome, but homers by Thome are like cat barf: you never want them around, but once a while, there they are, and you just hope they don’t ruin anything. Takatsu buckled down and finished out a 9-8 Sox win, and suddenly, we were 10-0.
Monday morning dawned cloudy and gray, but who cares? We had survived eight nights in hotel beds without getting scabies or being devoured by bedbugs. We had survived nine days of road food without getting scurvy. Jim even ate all the vegetables that were put in front of him, which I hope will reassure his mother. So who cared that it looked rainy? Like Team USA Basketball, we were sure of our powers. Our luck would hold. Unlike Team USA Basketball, we were right, for the most part.
Needing to run 20 miles to keep up with my marathon training, I decided to run the sixteen miles to my office, plus a bit, then shower at the gym, go through my email for an hour, then head back north to Comiskey Park. Jim, demonstrating yet again that he’s by far the most sensible member of BRPA 2004, slept in, then he and Bob met me at the ballpark.
I suppose I should describe Comiskey Park. I’m guessing most of our legion of fans have been there, but a few words are in order in case. Those words are: sterile, boring, styleless, loud, and a right impressive ripping-off of the taxpayer. But for all that, I do think Comiskey is a bit better than the terrible reputation it has. The vertigo-inducing upper-deck seats are a bit better these days, as the team in the offseason replaced the top rows of them with a roof, and when there are 50,000 people in the park and the Sox are soul-destroyingly bad, it can be a fun place to see a ballgame or, apparently, attack a base coach.
Mondays at Comiskey Park are half-price days, and every Illinois resident should go to a couple a year, as they’re paying for them, via a shady deal the Sox signed when Illinois built the new ballpark for them whereby they only pay rent if they draw X large number of fans at full price in a season. Only about 5,000 of them decided to exercise that option Monday. Maybe they knew what Bob, Jim, and I didn’t: that the baseball on Monday would be of about half-price quality, too.
Entering this game, the White Sox were 7 for 67 with 20 strikeouts in 18 scoreless innings. Today, they fell behind early, made a couple of errors, ran the bases in extravagantly bad fashion, and just looked like a team that was determined to break BRPA 2004’s perfect rooting record. But then Joe Borchard hit a 504-foot home run, the longest in the history of New Comiskey (Bob, Jim, and I didn’t think it was that long, but we don’t have the official How-far-did-it-fly calculator, so what do we know?), the Phillies, taking their defensive cues from the Pale Hose, botched a rundown and had their pitcher and catcher trip over one another while failing to field a bunt, and suddenly, the Sox were leading 9-6. It was about the most lackadaisical and sloppy 9-6 attainment of a 9-6 lead that you’ll ever see, but a lead’s a lead.
Fan favorite Shingo Takatsu entered the game in the 9th, to the joy of the 5,000 faithful and the five camera operators, who got a chance to put their finding Asian fans in the stands skills to the test. He promptly surrendered a 2-run homer to Jim Thome, but homers by Thome are like cat barf: you never want them around, but once a while, there they are, and you just hope they don’t ruin anything. Takatsu buckled down and finished out a 9-8 Sox win, and suddenly, we were 10-0.
Labels: bob conrad, brpa, chicago, game report, joe borchard, phillies, road trip, u.s. cellular field, white sox
Tuesday, August 31, 2004
Get your scorecards ready
As I realized while I was out today getting my watch fixed and playing pinball (not at the same time, unfortunately), we actually had seventeen hangers-on: Luke, Stacey, Tony, Geoff, Clara, Tom, Patti, Matt, Jill, Jay, Maura, Jim, Nancy, Allison, Dan, Dianne, and Bob. Sorry to the one of you who I forgot when I made the post earlier today.
And now, to try to figure out how much money Levi owes me for the rental car and the hotel stays, which were on my credit card...
Luke, hanger-on: It's OK.
And now, to try to figure out how much money Levi owes me for the rental car and the hotel stays, which were on my credit card...
Original comments...
Luke, hanger-on: It's OK.
The end of the tour
11 games, 11 cities, 10 days, 3,489 miles, 9 White Sox runs, 5 hot dogs, 1 Schmitter, 1 Primanti sandwich, 16 official hangers-on and who knows how many honorary hangers-on...
It's been great! Thanks to everyone who followed the trip, in person or in spirit, and thanks to Levi for suggesting it in the first place and then putting up with me the whole way through.
I know it may sound like we're closing up shop, but this blog is going to stay operational at least through the World Series, and we've still got plenty of photos from the trip to post! They should be up within the next week or so, so stay tuned. I've also got scores from Alternate Itinerary #4 to post, since that's going on this week, but the first post of those is going to have to wait until I get back in front of my fast Internet connection at home (because I don't feel like doing a lot of research on the dialup connection I'm currently using).
sandor: Congratulations, fellas. That beats us by, what, 4 games, 5 cities, 2 days, 1000+ miles, and a dozen or so hangers-on. Touché. Probably the only stat in which we dominated was number of hot dogs. And kisses from the Phillie Phanatic.
It's been a treat following along. Here's to doing it again next year. You still have more than half the major league ballparks to go...
stacey: sorry about that slow dialup connection, jim. someday we'll advance to modern times.
this trip has been a joy. i'm so glad i got to be the bookend hanger-on!
Jim's mom: How about number of hours of sleep lost, pounds gained, t-shirts purchased? And a commentary on gas prices. Glad you had fun!
Levi: We saw 29 hours and 45 minutes of baseball. The short game in Cleveland (1:56) kept us just under the 30-hour mark. Something to shoot for next time!
It's been great! Thanks to everyone who followed the trip, in person or in spirit, and thanks to Levi for suggesting it in the first place and then putting up with me the whole way through.
I know it may sound like we're closing up shop, but this blog is going to stay operational at least through the World Series, and we've still got plenty of photos from the trip to post! They should be up within the next week or so, so stay tuned. I've also got scores from Alternate Itinerary #4 to post, since that's going on this week, but the first post of those is going to have to wait until I get back in front of my fast Internet connection at home (because I don't feel like doing a lot of research on the dialup connection I'm currently using).
Original comments...
sandor: Congratulations, fellas. That beats us by, what, 4 games, 5 cities, 2 days, 1000+ miles, and a dozen or so hangers-on. Touché. Probably the only stat in which we dominated was number of hot dogs. And kisses from the Phillie Phanatic.
It's been a treat following along. Here's to doing it again next year. You still have more than half the major league ballparks to go...
stacey: sorry about that slow dialup connection, jim. someday we'll advance to modern times.
this trip has been a joy. i'm so glad i got to be the bookend hanger-on!
Jim's mom: How about number of hours of sleep lost, pounds gained, t-shirts purchased? And a commentary on gas prices. Glad you had fun!
Levi: We saw 29 hours and 45 minutes of baseball. The short game in Cleveland (1:56) kept us just under the 30-hour mark. Something to shoot for next time!
Labels: brpa, road trip, statistics
Another poem
I'm probably going to be too busy at work today to wrap up yesterday's two-city doubleheader until tomorrow. But to keep you busy, here's a limerick Bob wrote about Pirates outfielder Tike Redman. We were at Miller Park watching Redman bat when one of us--I forget who--thought Redman would make a good subject for a limerick. With remarkable quickness, Bob came up with this:
There was an outfielder named Tike
Who took the first pitch for a strike.
But the very next pitch,
The son of a bitch,
And the one after that were alike.
thatbob: The edited-for-improvement version simply inverts the interior couplet, thus:
But, son of a bitch!
The very next pitch
And the one after that were alike!
Levi: The ten-year-old boy in the seats in front of us visibly enjoyed the "son-of-a-bitch" in Bob's poem.
If only Andrew "Dice" Clay were still popular--this kid wouldn't know what hit him!
Toby: There once was a boy named Levi
From a magical place called Carmi
We went up to NU, got culture there, too
But he's "Gideon" still in my eye
There was an outfielder named Tike
Who took the first pitch for a strike.
But the very next pitch,
The son of a bitch,
And the one after that were alike.
Original comments:
thatbob: The edited-for-improvement version simply inverts the interior couplet, thus:
But, son of a bitch!
The very next pitch
And the one after that were alike!
Levi: The ten-year-old boy in the seats in front of us visibly enjoyed the "son-of-a-bitch" in Bob's poem.
If only Andrew "Dice" Clay were still popular--this kid wouldn't know what hit him!
Toby: There once was a boy named Levi
From a magical place called Carmi
We went up to NU, got culture there, too
But he's "Gideon" still in my eye
Labels: bob conrad, brpa, poetry, road trip, tike redman
Sunday, August 29, 2004
Cleveland pictures
The view from our seats...
The "I" logo is cleverly worked into a lot of Indians-related text, from "'I' am a true fan" on the tickets to "How may 'I' help you?" on buttons being worn by the ushers...
The Indians' mascot, some sort of purple thing that's more politically correct than, you know, an Indian would be...
Scott Elarton quickly pitching to Joe Borchard...
Levi keeping score, as always...
The final line (1 hour 56 minutes!)...
Labels: brpa, cleveland, indians, jacobs field, photos, road trip, white sox
Cleveland Rocks, or, The Sox Don't Rock Yet Again
Sunday morning dawned gray and muggy, and it looked like maybe our luck would finally run out and leave us rain-delayed on getaway day. Maura used the Internet to find an hour-by-hour forecast for Cleveland, and it didn’t look good, alternating between storms, showers, and drizzle all day.
Undeterred, we crossed the bridge, left Pittsburgh, and made our way in the direction of America’s poorest city, Cleveland, where we met Cleveland residents Dan and Dianne. The two MLB employees in our party could get two others of us into the game free, but that left one unaccounted for, so we headed to the ticket window. But our good fortune continued, as a man who was heading a group of 37 people but had 40 tickets gave us ticket 38, gratis.
Jacobs Field, right in downtown Cleveland, is a definite improvement on Municipal Stadium. I liked Municipal the one time I was there, for a fireworks night in 1993, because it was huge and squareish and old, but the odd configuration of the stands, built for multiple sports, meant the sight lines ranged from okay to crick-in-the-neck lousy. The Jake, one of the earliest of the throwback stadiums, is similar to all the new parks we have been to: huge concourses, lots of food stands, comfy seats. But it’s got cozy dimensions, a high left-field wall, and, even for a meaningless game in August, a good, attentive crowd. The field itself seemed extra-pretty and green, though it might have just appeared that way in contrast to the threatening skies.
My search for vegetarian food today took me to the garlic fries booth (The garlic fries were good, but not quite as good as San Francisco’s.), then to a burrito place, where I asked if I could get a burrito without meat. The concessionaire a) looked at me as if he had never heard that question, b) looked at me as if he couldn’t imagine why anyone would ask that question, c) looked at me as if maybe the burritos were just meat wrapped in a tortilla, and he was imagining a tortilla full of air, then d) said he guessed I could. I decided to press on, and press on I did, until I found a sushi booth. The vegetarian sushi combo was better and consisted of more, and more varied, pieces than the one at Skydome. But perhaps I should have kept searching, because later, Maura returned to our seats from a food run with a chocolate-ice-cream-covered crepe that, as Dan said, made everyone around her stare as if she’d just walked by topless.
Having decided, due to our Clevelandite hangers-on, to root for the Indians and reserve our Sox rooting for tomorrow’s game, we settled down in our seats along the first-base line to await what we expected would be a high-scoring affair. Neither the Indians starter, Scott Elarton, nor Jon Garland for the White Sox has been particularly distinguished this season, but apparently the full confidence of the BRPA 2004 team had a powerful effect on Elarton, who pitched brilliantly. He gave up a walk in the third,and a scratch hit on the infield in the fourth, but due to double plays, he faced the minimum all the way through the first eight innings.
Meanwhile, Jon Garland was giving up home run after home run after home run, as the Indians put up nine unanswered runs despite hitting into the best double play we’d ever seen. In the secondd inning,with Ben Broussard at second base, Ronnie Belliard grounded a ball back to Garland on the mound. He whirled and threw to shortstop Jose Valentin, catching Broussard too far off second. Broussard, knowing they had him dead to rights, headed for third, his only thought being to keep in the rundown long enough for Belliard to sneak up to second base safely. But third baseman Joe Crede forced Broussard back towards second, and, seeing that he had to stay alive a moment longer, Broussard headed that way; Crede hesitated a bit too long with the ball, and it looked as if Broussard might just make it back to second.
It was at that point that everyone in the stands and on the field realized that something extremely unusual might be about to happen. Broussard was sliding back into second, while Ronnie Belliard, running at top speed was dropping into his slide on the other side of second base. Shortstop Valentin, crouching on the third-base side of second, took the throw, slapped down a tag on Broussard, then swung his glove around and laid a tag on Belliard. The umpire, appearing to be as surprised as the rest of us, pointed to the left side of the bag and threw up a thumb, then pointed to the right side and threw it up again. The crowd erupted in a mix of surprise, awe, and laughter.
But it didn’t matter. Elarton just kept cruising along in the best start of his career. In the ninth, having faced the minimum, he hit a batter intentionally as payback for a beaning of Ben Broussard the previous inning, then gave up a sharp single, the second hit of the game for the Sox, but then he shut the door. His final line: 9 innings pitched, 2 hits, 1 walk, 1 hit batsman, 0 runs, 6 strikeouts, 101 pitches. And it was all over in 1:56, the fastest game I think I’ve ever seen, and too fast for the promised storms ever to make an appearance.
Oh, and the Cleveland scoreboard needs a quick mention. Between innings early in the game, it showed the shell game with a ball and caps, but rather than show an animated version like at most ballparks, the Indians sent an employee into the stands to play with a kid and real caps and ball. All that was lacking was a shill to lay down $20 and show the kid how easy the game was. Later, they featured a Slurpee-drinking contest among three young girls, each slurping a different flavor. The winner, drinking the red Slurpee, bleary-eyed and staggered from her sudden ice-cream headache, walked away with a DVD set of the Kubrick Collection, or something like that. It was hard to see from far away.
Now we’re on the road back home, about to hit I-94, the first doubling back of the trip. Tomorrow, we put our 9-0 record to the test, first at Comiskey, then at Milwaukee.
Dan: You forgot to mention the seventh-inning vocal chord stretch featuring William Hung.
Levi: And I forgot to mention the scabrous mascot of the Indians, some pink fuzzy nasty thing that looked like it had crawled out of the Cuyahoga back in its fiery days.
Undeterred, we crossed the bridge, left Pittsburgh, and made our way in the direction of America’s poorest city, Cleveland, where we met Cleveland residents Dan and Dianne. The two MLB employees in our party could get two others of us into the game free, but that left one unaccounted for, so we headed to the ticket window. But our good fortune continued, as a man who was heading a group of 37 people but had 40 tickets gave us ticket 38, gratis.
Jacobs Field, right in downtown Cleveland, is a definite improvement on Municipal Stadium. I liked Municipal the one time I was there, for a fireworks night in 1993, because it was huge and squareish and old, but the odd configuration of the stands, built for multiple sports, meant the sight lines ranged from okay to crick-in-the-neck lousy. The Jake, one of the earliest of the throwback stadiums, is similar to all the new parks we have been to: huge concourses, lots of food stands, comfy seats. But it’s got cozy dimensions, a high left-field wall, and, even for a meaningless game in August, a good, attentive crowd. The field itself seemed extra-pretty and green, though it might have just appeared that way in contrast to the threatening skies.
My search for vegetarian food today took me to the garlic fries booth (The garlic fries were good, but not quite as good as San Francisco’s.), then to a burrito place, where I asked if I could get a burrito without meat. The concessionaire a) looked at me as if he had never heard that question, b) looked at me as if he couldn’t imagine why anyone would ask that question, c) looked at me as if maybe the burritos were just meat wrapped in a tortilla, and he was imagining a tortilla full of air, then d) said he guessed I could. I decided to press on, and press on I did, until I found a sushi booth. The vegetarian sushi combo was better and consisted of more, and more varied, pieces than the one at Skydome. But perhaps I should have kept searching, because later, Maura returned to our seats from a food run with a chocolate-ice-cream-covered crepe that, as Dan said, made everyone around her stare as if she’d just walked by topless.
Having decided, due to our Clevelandite hangers-on, to root for the Indians and reserve our Sox rooting for tomorrow’s game, we settled down in our seats along the first-base line to await what we expected would be a high-scoring affair. Neither the Indians starter, Scott Elarton, nor Jon Garland for the White Sox has been particularly distinguished this season, but apparently the full confidence of the BRPA 2004 team had a powerful effect on Elarton, who pitched brilliantly. He gave up a walk in the third,and a scratch hit on the infield in the fourth, but due to double plays, he faced the minimum all the way through the first eight innings.
Meanwhile, Jon Garland was giving up home run after home run after home run, as the Indians put up nine unanswered runs despite hitting into the best double play we’d ever seen. In the secondd inning,with Ben Broussard at second base, Ronnie Belliard grounded a ball back to Garland on the mound. He whirled and threw to shortstop Jose Valentin, catching Broussard too far off second. Broussard, knowing they had him dead to rights, headed for third, his only thought being to keep in the rundown long enough for Belliard to sneak up to second base safely. But third baseman Joe Crede forced Broussard back towards second, and, seeing that he had to stay alive a moment longer, Broussard headed that way; Crede hesitated a bit too long with the ball, and it looked as if Broussard might just make it back to second.
It was at that point that everyone in the stands and on the field realized that something extremely unusual might be about to happen. Broussard was sliding back into second, while Ronnie Belliard, running at top speed was dropping into his slide on the other side of second base. Shortstop Valentin, crouching on the third-base side of second, took the throw, slapped down a tag on Broussard, then swung his glove around and laid a tag on Belliard. The umpire, appearing to be as surprised as the rest of us, pointed to the left side of the bag and threw up a thumb, then pointed to the right side and threw it up again. The crowd erupted in a mix of surprise, awe, and laughter.
But it didn’t matter. Elarton just kept cruising along in the best start of his career. In the ninth, having faced the minimum, he hit a batter intentionally as payback for a beaning of Ben Broussard the previous inning, then gave up a sharp single, the second hit of the game for the Sox, but then he shut the door. His final line: 9 innings pitched, 2 hits, 1 walk, 1 hit batsman, 0 runs, 6 strikeouts, 101 pitches. And it was all over in 1:56, the fastest game I think I’ve ever seen, and too fast for the promised storms ever to make an appearance.
Oh, and the Cleveland scoreboard needs a quick mention. Between innings early in the game, it showed the shell game with a ball and caps, but rather than show an animated version like at most ballparks, the Indians sent an employee into the stands to play with a kid and real caps and ball. All that was lacking was a shill to lay down $20 and show the kid how easy the game was. Later, they featured a Slurpee-drinking contest among three young girls, each slurping a different flavor. The winner, drinking the red Slurpee, bleary-eyed and staggered from her sudden ice-cream headache, walked away with a DVD set of the Kubrick Collection, or something like that. It was hard to see from far away.
Now we’re on the road back home, about to hit I-94, the first doubling back of the trip. Tomorrow, we put our 9-0 record to the test, first at Comiskey, then at Milwaukee.
Original comments...
Dan: You forgot to mention the seventh-inning vocal chord stretch featuring William Hung.
Levi: And I forgot to mention the scabrous mascot of the Indians, some pink fuzzy nasty thing that looked like it had crawled out of the Cuyahoga back in its fiery days.
Labels: brpa, cleveland, Dan Rivkin, dianne ketler, game report, indians, jacobs field, maura johnston, road trip, scott elarton, white sox
Of fountains and squirrels
Levi forgot to mention one of the best features of Saturday's Pirates-Cardinals game. During an inning break near the end of the game, the scoreboard had a question for us to vote on: what would you like to hear during the next half-inning?
1. "Old Time Rock 'n' Roll." A Pittsburgh favorite! Cheers and applause.
2. "Bad to the Bone." Another Pittsburgh favorite! Cheers and applause.
3. Video of a water-skiing squirrel. The crowd went wild!
As advertised, during the next break between half-innings, there was video of Nutty the Water-Skiing Squirrel water-skiing on the scoreboard.
On another note, initially, I had planned our entrance into Pittsburgh on Saturday to be from the south, via state route 88. It’s the way I always drove in when I lived in the town of Library, in the south suburbs, right on 88. It’s a fairly scenic drive that goes through some small western Pennsylvania towns, and I thought Levi and Maura might enjoy it.
That went out the window when Fox ordered the time of the game changed, which meant we had to get into town as quickly as possible, which meant the boring old entrance on I-376.
However, we did get a substitute Western Pennsylvania experience. After the game, for dinner, I suggested we go to Station Square, a development across the river from downtown Pittsburgh, since I knew how to get there via the subway and I knew there was a fairly good selection of restaurants. Levi, Maura, Allison, and I opted not to eat at Hooters, but instead went to a concept restaurant called the Red Star Tavern. Although it was technically a barbecue restaurant, Levi saw beer-cheddar soup on the menu and was happy.
Full of barbecue and $7.00 beers (cost, not value), we wandered out into the courtyard, where there was a fountain that had a bunch of different nozzles spraying in various combinations. Suddenly, the water stopped. Suddenly, the lights went out. And then it started: a synchronized water and light show, featuring various KDKA radio personalities talking about the history of Pittsburgh, interspersed with various Pittsburgh-related songs, including “We Are Family.” Almost as if it had been planned, during the fountain display, two freight trains went by on the tracks between Station Square and the Monongahela River. Levi later said it was the best fountain in the history of fountains, even better than the General Motors Fountain at Comerica Park (which didn’t teach us about the history of the automobile, or about Detroit, or about much of anything). However, there were no squirrels water-skiing in it.
Then we walked over the Smithfield Street bridge and continued for the 12 blocks or so back to the Hilton, some of us marveling at the fact that downtown Pittsburgh doesn’t have anywhere near as many abandoned buildings as downtown Detroit.
Allison: Thanks for adding the fountain story; that definitely was worth the trip over to Station Square. And an odd note. I was back in NYC on Monday night, and ordered a draft 20 oz beer of the same brand that cost seven dollars for a 12 oz bottle in Pittsburgh. The cost? $6.50. Go figure.
Levi: What is the world coming to? Beer more expensive in Pittsburgh than NYC?
1. "Old Time Rock 'n' Roll." A Pittsburgh favorite! Cheers and applause.
2. "Bad to the Bone." Another Pittsburgh favorite! Cheers and applause.
3. Video of a water-skiing squirrel. The crowd went wild!
As advertised, during the next break between half-innings, there was video of Nutty the Water-Skiing Squirrel water-skiing on the scoreboard.
On another note, initially, I had planned our entrance into Pittsburgh on Saturday to be from the south, via state route 88. It’s the way I always drove in when I lived in the town of Library, in the south suburbs, right on 88. It’s a fairly scenic drive that goes through some small western Pennsylvania towns, and I thought Levi and Maura might enjoy it.
That went out the window when Fox ordered the time of the game changed, which meant we had to get into town as quickly as possible, which meant the boring old entrance on I-376.
However, we did get a substitute Western Pennsylvania experience. After the game, for dinner, I suggested we go to Station Square, a development across the river from downtown Pittsburgh, since I knew how to get there via the subway and I knew there was a fairly good selection of restaurants. Levi, Maura, Allison, and I opted not to eat at Hooters, but instead went to a concept restaurant called the Red Star Tavern. Although it was technically a barbecue restaurant, Levi saw beer-cheddar soup on the menu and was happy.
Full of barbecue and $7.00 beers (cost, not value), we wandered out into the courtyard, where there was a fountain that had a bunch of different nozzles spraying in various combinations. Suddenly, the water stopped. Suddenly, the lights went out. And then it started: a synchronized water and light show, featuring various KDKA radio personalities talking about the history of Pittsburgh, interspersed with various Pittsburgh-related songs, including “We Are Family.” Almost as if it had been planned, during the fountain display, two freight trains went by on the tracks between Station Square and the Monongahela River. Levi later said it was the best fountain in the history of fountains, even better than the General Motors Fountain at Comerica Park (which didn’t teach us about the history of the automobile, or about Detroit, or about much of anything). However, there were no squirrels water-skiing in it.
Then we walked over the Smithfield Street bridge and continued for the 12 blocks or so back to the Hilton, some of us marveling at the fact that downtown Pittsburgh doesn’t have anywhere near as many abandoned buildings as downtown Detroit.
Original comments...
Allison: Thanks for adding the fountain story; that definitely was worth the trip over to Station Square. And an odd note. I was back in NYC on Monday night, and ordered a draft 20 oz beer of the same brand that cost seven dollars for a 12 oz bottle in Pittsburgh. The cost? $6.50. Go figure.
Levi: What is the world coming to? Beer more expensive in Pittsburgh than NYC?
Labels: beer, brpa, fountain, pittsburgh, road trip, squirrel
Pittsburgh pictures
PNC Park seen from across the Allegheny River...
The Roberto Clemente (6th Street) bridge, conveniently enough leading straight to the stadium...
A beautiful sight, the tarp being taken off the field...
The Pittsburgh skyline...
A building with an interesting-looking courtyard space...
The Pirate Parrot...
Craig Wilson, in Warhol style...
The eyes of Jason Kendall are upon you...
The final line (washed out by the sun)...
Labels: brpa, Cardinals, photos, pirates, pittsburgh, pnc park, road trip
Bonus pictures from the drive across Pennsylvania
What could be sadder than a boarded-up Waffle House?
Fortunately, the non-boarded-up Eat 'n Park next door is able to lift Levi's spirits with their Pancake Smile...
Seen on the Pennsylvania Turnpike: "Pay Stop Toll?" What does that mean?
Fortunately, the non-boarded-up Eat 'n Park next door is able to lift Levi's spirits with their Pancake Smile...
Seen on the Pennsylvania Turnpike: "Pay Stop Toll?" What does that mean?
Labels: brpa, eat 'n park, pennsylvania turnpike, photos, road trip
Fort Pitt
The day began inauspiciously, with the Waffle House that had been used as bait to get Maura out of bed at 6:15 turning out to be a boarded-up derelict. But after that, everything looked up. We reset our breakfast sights on an Eat 'n Park, a Pennsylvania favorite, then hit the road for Pittsburgh.
Pittsburgh is a beautiful city these days, at the confluence of three rivers and surrounded by high hills. We rolled into the swank Hilton--with wireless Internet in all rooms!--and within minutes, rain was pouring down. But our luck held out, the rain cleared off, and we had another beautiful, sunny day for a ballgame. We met up with Maura’s friend Alison from work, who besides being a Cardinals fan is good company. She had flown out for the series and was staying at our hotel, which seemed to be about half full of Cardinals fans. Being with two MLB employees meant that we got great seats without the hassle of pulling out or opening our wallets.
PNC Park is located just down the street from the old Three Rivers Stadium, but that’s about as close to the old ballpark as this one gets in any way. The old ballpark was the worst of the cookie-cutter dual-use 1960s stadiums, big and impersonal and mostly empty. PNC, like all the new parks we’ve been to on this trip, is very open, with lots of views from the outside of the inside and vice-versa. We were on the third-base side, just past the bag, about thirty-five rows up in the lower deck, and from there we had a view of the Roberto Clemente bridge and a bit of the Pittsburgh skyline. The out-of-town scoreboard is similar to the one in Philly, but in this case, I didn’t much care what was going on out of town, because the Cardinals were busy delivering yet another defeat to the Pirates. Albert Pujols sat out, which led to this conversation one row behind me. As I listened in, I couldn’t decide whether it was an ad for MLB, an ad for, say, “Spend time with your kids. A message from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints,” or, “Kids are counting on you. Don’t let them down. A message from the [see above].” You make the call:
Dad: Is that Albert Pujols?
Son: No, dad. That’s Scott Rolen.
Dad: I don’t think Pujols is even playing today.
Son: Yeah, I don’t think he is.
Dad: And he’s the main reason you wanted to come today.
Son: Yeah.
Dad: He was all you could talk about in the car on the way here.
Son: Yeah. . . . . But Scott Rolen’s pretty good, too.
Dad: Yeah. He sure is.
The Pirates scoreboard opened the game with a lengthy animation in which the Pirates' ship sank the ships of the other NL Central teams. Later, it featured the animated beginning to what turned into an on-field Pierogi race. In this race, the Pittsburgh Parrot mascot, taking his cue from Randall Simon, decked three of the pierogi in order to assist the female pierogi, Hannah Jalapeno, who had fallen at the finish line. The Parrot carried her over, to much applause.
Pierogi without legs or gender were available at the concession stands, and they came in a close second to the Comerica Park veggie pita in the vegetarian ballpark food rankings. The reason they didn't rank more highly was that, as I think Bob can vouch, you can either eat not enough pierogi--the problem with a serving at PNC--or way too many pierogi--the problem if you eat them at home. There's no middle ground, and PNC, perhaps sensibly, chose to go with too few rather than have groaning patrons unable to leave their seats at game's end.
The Cardinals got a three-run homer in the second from Reggie Sanders and a solo homer the next inning from Jim Edmonds, his third of the weekend, to give them a 5-0 lead. In the third inning, Larry Walker threw out Jose Castillo at the plate as he tried to score on a single to right. Yadier Molina took the throw and just had time to turn towards Castillo when Castillo, traveling about 75 mph, knocked him into about the twelfth row. But Yadier held on, got his brain put back in the right direction, and stayed in the game. That was a good thing, because the next inning also ended, following a patented Matt Morris semi-meltdown, with the tying run thrown out at the plate trying to score on a single to Jim Edmonds. Edmonds makes that play several times a year, running in hard to field a single and coming up throwing a strike to the plate. A few times a year, he overruns the ball and looks extremely silly, but the outs at the plate more than make up for that.
The Cardinals held on, matching their win total from all of last year and running us to 8-0 on the trip. Tomorrow, we’re on to Cleveland, where we meet up with Dan (and, presumably, get in for free again) and, I think, root for the Indians. As far as the trip goes, despite the threat of thunderstorms today, we’re into the home stretch; it feels kind of like it’s the 9th, we’re Eric Gagne, and we’re about to face Rey Ordonez, Neifi Perez, and Tom Goodwin. Our perfect record, however, is in more danger than ever: none of the remaining three games presents us with a clear favorite team to root for, and any one seems as likely to win as any other one. I have faith. 11-0, here we come.
Oh, and there are two newspaper notes. First,a demonstration of my political commitment: Despite the lead story--accompanied by a photo--being about how bunnies are thriving in Pittsburgh this year because of the wet weather, I did not buy the right-wing rag the Tribune-Review. And the Post-Gazette, which Jim did buy, included today the phrase "a throbbing mass of roaches."
Nancy Boland: Glad you saw a great game and advanced to an 8-0 record! Enjoyed having you for your short stay in Philly!
Toby: It was actually Ty Wigginton on the collision.
Did you guys go over the bridge where the opening scene in "Flashdance" was shot? I visited Pittsburgh with Levi's sister and some other friends in January 2003 and we went over it. How nostalgic...
thatbob: What a feeling!
Hey, I don't understand why Jim was rooting for the Cardinals over Pittsburgh this game. I'm going to consider his record to be at 7-1 until he explains himself.
thatbob: I imagine it would be very easy, but really, really mean, for a pirate ship to sink a ship full of bear cubs. And it would seem against a pirate's own interests to sink a ship full of brewers. That doesn't even make sense.
Toby: Neither do most of the personnel moves the Pirates have made the past 12 years.
Pittsburgh is a beautiful city these days, at the confluence of three rivers and surrounded by high hills. We rolled into the swank Hilton--with wireless Internet in all rooms!--and within minutes, rain was pouring down. But our luck held out, the rain cleared off, and we had another beautiful, sunny day for a ballgame. We met up with Maura’s friend Alison from work, who besides being a Cardinals fan is good company. She had flown out for the series and was staying at our hotel, which seemed to be about half full of Cardinals fans. Being with two MLB employees meant that we got great seats without the hassle of pulling out or opening our wallets.
PNC Park is located just down the street from the old Three Rivers Stadium, but that’s about as close to the old ballpark as this one gets in any way. The old ballpark was the worst of the cookie-cutter dual-use 1960s stadiums, big and impersonal and mostly empty. PNC, like all the new parks we’ve been to on this trip, is very open, with lots of views from the outside of the inside and vice-versa. We were on the third-base side, just past the bag, about thirty-five rows up in the lower deck, and from there we had a view of the Roberto Clemente bridge and a bit of the Pittsburgh skyline. The out-of-town scoreboard is similar to the one in Philly, but in this case, I didn’t much care what was going on out of town, because the Cardinals were busy delivering yet another defeat to the Pirates. Albert Pujols sat out, which led to this conversation one row behind me. As I listened in, I couldn’t decide whether it was an ad for MLB, an ad for, say, “Spend time with your kids. A message from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints,” or, “Kids are counting on you. Don’t let them down. A message from the [see above].” You make the call:
Dad: Is that Albert Pujols?
Son: No, dad. That’s Scott Rolen.
Dad: I don’t think Pujols is even playing today.
Son: Yeah, I don’t think he is.
Dad: And he’s the main reason you wanted to come today.
Son: Yeah.
Dad: He was all you could talk about in the car on the way here.
Son: Yeah. . . . . But Scott Rolen’s pretty good, too.
Dad: Yeah. He sure is.
The Pirates scoreboard opened the game with a lengthy animation in which the Pirates' ship sank the ships of the other NL Central teams. Later, it featured the animated beginning to what turned into an on-field Pierogi race. In this race, the Pittsburgh Parrot mascot, taking his cue from Randall Simon, decked three of the pierogi in order to assist the female pierogi, Hannah Jalapeno, who had fallen at the finish line. The Parrot carried her over, to much applause.
Pierogi without legs or gender were available at the concession stands, and they came in a close second to the Comerica Park veggie pita in the vegetarian ballpark food rankings. The reason they didn't rank more highly was that, as I think Bob can vouch, you can either eat not enough pierogi--the problem with a serving at PNC--or way too many pierogi--the problem if you eat them at home. There's no middle ground, and PNC, perhaps sensibly, chose to go with too few rather than have groaning patrons unable to leave their seats at game's end.
The Cardinals got a three-run homer in the second from Reggie Sanders and a solo homer the next inning from Jim Edmonds, his third of the weekend, to give them a 5-0 lead. In the third inning, Larry Walker threw out Jose Castillo at the plate as he tried to score on a single to right. Yadier Molina took the throw and just had time to turn towards Castillo when Castillo, traveling about 75 mph, knocked him into about the twelfth row. But Yadier held on, got his brain put back in the right direction, and stayed in the game. That was a good thing, because the next inning also ended, following a patented Matt Morris semi-meltdown, with the tying run thrown out at the plate trying to score on a single to Jim Edmonds. Edmonds makes that play several times a year, running in hard to field a single and coming up throwing a strike to the plate. A few times a year, he overruns the ball and looks extremely silly, but the outs at the plate more than make up for that.
The Cardinals held on, matching their win total from all of last year and running us to 8-0 on the trip. Tomorrow, we’re on to Cleveland, where we meet up with Dan (and, presumably, get in for free again) and, I think, root for the Indians. As far as the trip goes, despite the threat of thunderstorms today, we’re into the home stretch; it feels kind of like it’s the 9th, we’re Eric Gagne, and we’re about to face Rey Ordonez, Neifi Perez, and Tom Goodwin. Our perfect record, however, is in more danger than ever: none of the remaining three games presents us with a clear favorite team to root for, and any one seems as likely to win as any other one. I have faith. 11-0, here we come.
Oh, and there are two newspaper notes. First,a demonstration of my political commitment: Despite the lead story--accompanied by a photo--being about how bunnies are thriving in Pittsburgh this year because of the wet weather, I did not buy the right-wing rag the Tribune-Review. And the Post-Gazette, which Jim did buy, included today the phrase "a throbbing mass of roaches."
Original comments...
Nancy Boland: Glad you saw a great game and advanced to an 8-0 record! Enjoyed having you for your short stay in Philly!
Toby: It was actually Ty Wigginton on the collision.
Did you guys go over the bridge where the opening scene in "Flashdance" was shot? I visited Pittsburgh with Levi's sister and some other friends in January 2003 and we went over it. How nostalgic...
thatbob: What a feeling!
Hey, I don't understand why Jim was rooting for the Cardinals over Pittsburgh this game. I'm going to consider his record to be at 7-1 until he explains himself.
thatbob: I imagine it would be very easy, but really, really mean, for a pirate ship to sink a ship full of bear cubs. And it would seem against a pirate's own interests to sink a ship full of brewers. That doesn't even make sense.
Toby: Neither do most of the personnel moves the Pirates have made the past 12 years.
Labels: brpa, Cardinals, eat 'n park, game report, maura johnston, pirates, pittsburgh, pnc park, rabbit, road trip
Saturday, August 28, 2004
Philadelphia pictures
The view from our seats in the upper deck. It's not that apparent from the photo, but if I had any complaint about Citizens Bank Park, it's that there was too much stuff to look at during the game, although I guess that has a lot to do with how high up our seats were...
The Philadelphia skyline, due north of the stadium...
The Philly Phanatic...
Maura thought this was a cute sign...
Jim buying The Schmitter...
Jim eating the Schmitter, and his Uncle Jim, who perhaps wisely opted for a hot dog...
Levi eating a salad, and Maura and Jim not eating anything...
Levi, Maura, Jim, and Jim after the game...
The final line...
The "Liberty Bell" ringing to celebrate the Phillies win...
Labels: bolands, brewers, brpa, citizens bank park, maura johnston, phillies, photos, road trip
Bonus pictures from Princeton et al.
Levi, in a hotel room, doing what he did a third of the time, writing an entry for this site...
Levi, in a hotel room, doing what he did another third of the time, reading Sandy Koufax: A Lefty's Legacy (sorry, I don't have any pictures of Levi drinking iced coffee, which is what he did the third third of the time)...
Princeton University (free!) parking pass...
Levi and Maura in the WPRB studio, talking baseball...
maura: as the 9-year-old me would have said to the 29-year-old me, 'nice face!'
Levi, in a hotel room, doing what he did another third of the time, reading Sandy Koufax: A Lefty's Legacy (sorry, I don't have any pictures of Levi drinking iced coffee, which is what he did the third third of the time)...
Princeton University (free!) parking pass...
Levi and Maura in the WPRB studio, talking baseball...
Original comments...
maura: as the 9-year-old me would have said to the 29-year-old me, 'nice face!'
Labels: brpa, maura johnston, photos, princeton, radio, road trip
“It’s nice to hear the fans in Philly boo the opposing players rather than their own guys.”
Today’s headline is a statement made by Maura as Brewers pitcher Victor Santos issued an intentional walk to Jim Thome, eliciting boos from the 40,000-strong Citizen Bank Ballpark crowd. Maura joined us midafternoon, meeting us at WPRB’s fancy new studios--complete with functional headphones--in a fancy new dorm on the campus of Princeton University. Maura graciously allowed us to take over her weekly radio show for a couple of hours, playing songs and clips from Jim’s baseball playlist and talking about some of the things we’ve seen on the trip. Three different callers who had never before heard Steve Goodman’s “A Dying Cubs Fan’s Last Request” called to find out what it was.
Following the radio show, we met Jim’s aunt and uncle and followed them to the ballpark. Their presence--combined with Maura’s Phillyphilia and everyone’s hatred of Bud Selig--overrode my regional loyalties and caused us to choose to root for the Phillies. It was a good choice, too, because it allowed us to spiritually join the Padilla Flotilla that was out with their banner in deep right. Vicente Padilla did them proud, throwing 8 shutout innings. Victor Santos of the Brewers fared less well, starting strong but absolutely falling apart in a 6-run fifth inning that forced me, for the first time in two years of keeping score, to shift my inning over a column as the Phillies sent twelve men to the plate. Walks will haunt, indeed. The Padilla Flotilla was ecstatic.
Citizens Bank Ballpark was surprisingly pleasant, especially if contrasted with what I’ve heard about Veterans Stadium, recollections of which tend to not be suitable for a family publication like BRPA 2004. It’s a big, new ballpark kind of like all the others, but I like the angularity of its design: the upper decks all have sharp edges and clean breaks between angled sections; the outfield walls run at odd angles to each other rather than curves, and access to the upper decks is via squared-off staircases rather than ramps. Like seemingly all the new parks, the upper deck--where we sat, right behind home--is too far from the plate, but because each of the four decks is only about twenty-five rows high, you’re able to avoid Comiskey-style vertigo.
Citizens Bank Ballpark definitely the biggest footprint of any non-Skydome park we’ve been to, and unlike Skydome, it doesn’t have a hotel inside. Land in way-south Philly must not have been in great demand, because what the team has done (with much, much public money) is build a fairly normal-sized ballpark, then put a large shell around it of wide concourses, staircases, escalators, food stands, a walk of fame, games and such for the easily distracted younger set, and more food stands. Spoiled by Wrigley, I dislike any park where you have to walk a Harold-Washington-library’s-inside-length distance to get to the entrance, but this ballpark didn’t bother me that much, maybe because the concourses felt, perhaps unintentionally, almost separate from the grandstand and field.
There were two other great things in the ballpark that I’d never seen before. On the brick façade just inside the gate, they post the home team’s starting lineup in ten-foot high baseball card photos. And the out of town scoreboard along the low right-field wall was the best I’ve ever seen. It was an old-style (which is the new style) light-bulb scoreboard. The wonderful innovation the Phils feature is to display for each out-of-town game, the current on-base situation (represented by tiny lights on a diamond) and the number of outs in the current inning. For someone like me who spends half the game tracking, say, the Cardinals game, it’s a source of alternating joy and worry.
Following the game, we drove with Maura to a dinky motel off the interstate in Harrisburg to stay the night. Soon after we’d gone to bed, Marvin’s sister-in-law called, twice. First she called and asked for Marvin without identifying herself. Confident that we were Marvin-less, Jim told her she had the wrong number. Minutes later, she called back, at which point Jim politely convinced her that the number Marvin had given her two days ago was the number of a hotel room, and that we, not Marvin, were its rightful occupants. Sleep followed.
We’re 7-0 now and heading to Pittsburgh to see the Cardinals attempt to match last season’s victory total, with 32 games still to go.
Jon Solomon: I was only able to hijack the first 90 minutes of Maura's show before RealPlayer lost the feed, but I can turn this file into an edited mp3 and upload it somewhere. If FTP codes can be provided, I can even put it on baseballrelated.com! Let me know. Go Cats.
Following the radio show, we met Jim’s aunt and uncle and followed them to the ballpark. Their presence--combined with Maura’s Phillyphilia and everyone’s hatred of Bud Selig--overrode my regional loyalties and caused us to choose to root for the Phillies. It was a good choice, too, because it allowed us to spiritually join the Padilla Flotilla that was out with their banner in deep right. Vicente Padilla did them proud, throwing 8 shutout innings. Victor Santos of the Brewers fared less well, starting strong but absolutely falling apart in a 6-run fifth inning that forced me, for the first time in two years of keeping score, to shift my inning over a column as the Phillies sent twelve men to the plate. Walks will haunt, indeed. The Padilla Flotilla was ecstatic.
Citizens Bank Ballpark was surprisingly pleasant, especially if contrasted with what I’ve heard about Veterans Stadium, recollections of which tend to not be suitable for a family publication like BRPA 2004. It’s a big, new ballpark kind of like all the others, but I like the angularity of its design: the upper decks all have sharp edges and clean breaks between angled sections; the outfield walls run at odd angles to each other rather than curves, and access to the upper decks is via squared-off staircases rather than ramps. Like seemingly all the new parks, the upper deck--where we sat, right behind home--is too far from the plate, but because each of the four decks is only about twenty-five rows high, you’re able to avoid Comiskey-style vertigo.
Citizens Bank Ballpark definitely the biggest footprint of any non-Skydome park we’ve been to, and unlike Skydome, it doesn’t have a hotel inside. Land in way-south Philly must not have been in great demand, because what the team has done (with much, much public money) is build a fairly normal-sized ballpark, then put a large shell around it of wide concourses, staircases, escalators, food stands, a walk of fame, games and such for the easily distracted younger set, and more food stands. Spoiled by Wrigley, I dislike any park where you have to walk a Harold-Washington-library’s-inside-length distance to get to the entrance, but this ballpark didn’t bother me that much, maybe because the concourses felt, perhaps unintentionally, almost separate from the grandstand and field.
There were two other great things in the ballpark that I’d never seen before. On the brick façade just inside the gate, they post the home team’s starting lineup in ten-foot high baseball card photos. And the out of town scoreboard along the low right-field wall was the best I’ve ever seen. It was an old-style (which is the new style) light-bulb scoreboard. The wonderful innovation the Phils feature is to display for each out-of-town game, the current on-base situation (represented by tiny lights on a diamond) and the number of outs in the current inning. For someone like me who spends half the game tracking, say, the Cardinals game, it’s a source of alternating joy and worry.
Following the game, we drove with Maura to a dinky motel off the interstate in Harrisburg to stay the night. Soon after we’d gone to bed, Marvin’s sister-in-law called, twice. First she called and asked for Marvin without identifying herself. Confident that we were Marvin-less, Jim told her she had the wrong number. Minutes later, she called back, at which point Jim politely convinced her that the number Marvin had given her two days ago was the number of a hotel room, and that we, not Marvin, were its rightful occupants. Sleep followed.
We’re 7-0 now and heading to Pittsburgh to see the Cardinals attempt to match last season’s victory total, with 32 games still to go.
Original comments...
Jon Solomon: I was only able to hijack the first 90 minutes of Maura's show before RealPlayer lost the feed, but I can turn this file into an edited mp3 and upload it somewhere. If FTP codes can be provided, I can even put it on baseballrelated.com! Let me know. Go Cats.
Labels: bolands, brewers, brpa, citizens bank park, game report, maura johnston, philadelphia, phillies, radio, road trip
Boston pictures
The Fenway Park grandstands and the .406 Club (behind the glass)...
There's a monstrous wall in left field, mostly painted green...
Home team batting order, with Johnny Damon at the top...
Johnny Damon in the field in front of us...
The right field foul pole, just kind of in the middle of the stands, which are at a very shallow angle at that point...
Moon rising over Fenway Park...
I can't get away from Amtrak...
The final line...
I assume the headline would make more sense if I'd spent more time in Boston...
Labels: boston, brpa, Fenway Park, johnny damon, photos, red sox, road trip, tigers
Bowing at the Altar of Damon
Some thoughts on Fenway Park and the 3-1 Red Sox win we saw.
1) It’s wonderful when something you’ve heard about all your life fully lives up to its billing. Fenway did. It’s a nearly perfect ballpark. Really, there’s not a lot I could say about Fenway that’s not already been said elsewhere. Everything you’ve heard is true. It’s cozy enough that even from our seats 13 rows up in dead center, we felt close to the action. The long rows and tight spaces discourage the sort of incessant milling around that the crowds at, say, Wrigley Field are prone to. And while the high walls and blocky upper deck block any view of the neighborhood, that means that once you’re in Fenway, everything is centered around the game. The ballpark maintains an enclosed, insular feeling such that even the drunk fans gave the impression of being at least somewhat attentive, and most fans were concentrating on every pitch. It was a wonderful place to see a ballgame.
2) The current ownership of the Red Sox, having decided that, rather than attempt to extort a replacement for Fenway from the city like the previous owners attempted to do, they would take advantage of having one of the best ballparks in baseball while still taking every chance they could to squeeze more money out of it. To that end, they’ve made some changes that I suppose might bother longtime Sox fans, but that I thought were actually pretty good. They added seats to the top of the Green Monster. They added some seats to the roof of the upper deck. They added (I think) another section of upper deck just past the end of the grandstand in right. And, to me the most surprising: they seem to have talked the city into letting them more or less take over Yawkey Way on game day. Turnstiles are set up in the middle of the street, and once you’re past them, you’re in the park. Towards the back of the outfield grandstands, it appears that they’ve actually moved the exterior walls of the park out onto what would have been the sidewalk, allowing the Sox to open up what had formerly been a cramped concourse under the stands. They’ve used the space to make navigating the park easier and to put up more of the things the contemporary fan is said to want: food stands, urinals, and more food stands. It’s a successful alteration, one that I think I wouldn’t even have noticed had I not been there on a non-game-day tour in 1993.
3) If I didn’t know that Paul Harvey is a Midwesterner, I would have thought he was working as the Red Sox public address announcer last night. The announcer had Harvey’s voice, inflections, tone, and cadences. Jim and I both expected him to end his announcements with “Good day.” Regardless, he was without a doubt the best PA announcer we’ve heard on the trip. Late in the game, with the crowd absolutely ecstatic singing along to “Sweet Caroline” between innings, he began to announce a pitching change for the Tigers. Noticing that the crowd was still shouting “Bump-ba-dah,” he paused, let the last notes of the song pass, and completed his announcement.
4) The guys behind us, four early twenty-somethings down from New York for their first Fenway game, were the sort of drunkies who tend to bug me a lot at Wrigley, in part because they’re always up and down and milling around. But these guys just didn’t bug me that much. They were loud, but a lot of their talk was about the game, and much of the time, when it was off-topic, it was fairly entertaining. Like when one guy was talking about Emeril, and another guy had never heard of Emeril, and the first guy spent ten minutes explaining who Emeril is, complete with a lot of: “You know--Bam! Bam! That guy--Bam!”
5) I do have one suggestion for PA operators at stadiums nationwide: just because a band records a song about your team/ballpark, you shouldn’t play it unless it also doesn’t suck. The only dissonant note in the whole night was the four minutes, pre-game, we had to spend listening to a terrible country (Country? In New England? Why?) song called “Having a Ball at Fenway.” It sucked more than the Blue Jays song; the only reason it wasn’t worse overall was that it wasn’t like spreading throw-up all over the seventh-inning stretch with a butter knife the way the Blue Jays song was.
That song aside, though, the organist and PA people were solid. The organist began the game with “Selections from Jim’s iPod,” which began with “Walk Away Renee” and went on to "Eight Days a Week” and “After the Gold Rush,” among others. Later, I--who usually am not excited all that much by stadium crowd singalongs--got a big kick out of hearing the crowd sing along to “Summer Wind,” then go absolutely brains-melting crazy over “Sweet Caroline.” It’s as big as “Hey Ya!”
It was odd for me to see Red Sox fans--who generally appear to be some of the most attentive fans in baseball--doing the wave and bouncing beach balls.
6) Everyone knows that the Red Sox are Yankee-obsessed. But Jesus, people. “Yankees suck!” chants cropped up without provocation, and anti-Yankee t-shirts were selling nearly as well as Johnny Damon shirts. It’s like the slacker kid in high school constantly writing mean things about the cool kids in his notebook. Sure, I’ve got sympathy, but at the end of the day, he keeps doing it, and he’s just using up space in his notebook he could be using to transcribe Violent Femmes lyrics.
7) The Red Sox scoreboard advertises a new service: if a fan feels his enjoyment of the game is being hindered by, say, drunk and rowdy fans nearby, he can, rather than wait for an usher to show up, call the security hotline on his phone. Not that I’m a fan of using the phone at games, but given that Wrigley Field ushers never seem to be around when drunks begin chucking peanuts at everyone in sight, I could imagine being able to phone security might be helpful. The trick would be avoiding getting a beer dumped on your head while you phoned.
8) And Johnny Damon got a couple of hits, stole a base, scored a run, made a couple of catches. And the Mike Timlin made another great appearance out of the Sox bullpen. And the Sox won, running me and Jim to 6-0 on the trip.
1) It’s wonderful when something you’ve heard about all your life fully lives up to its billing. Fenway did. It’s a nearly perfect ballpark. Really, there’s not a lot I could say about Fenway that’s not already been said elsewhere. Everything you’ve heard is true. It’s cozy enough that even from our seats 13 rows up in dead center, we felt close to the action. The long rows and tight spaces discourage the sort of incessant milling around that the crowds at, say, Wrigley Field are prone to. And while the high walls and blocky upper deck block any view of the neighborhood, that means that once you’re in Fenway, everything is centered around the game. The ballpark maintains an enclosed, insular feeling such that even the drunk fans gave the impression of being at least somewhat attentive, and most fans were concentrating on every pitch. It was a wonderful place to see a ballgame.
2) The current ownership of the Red Sox, having decided that, rather than attempt to extort a replacement for Fenway from the city like the previous owners attempted to do, they would take advantage of having one of the best ballparks in baseball while still taking every chance they could to squeeze more money out of it. To that end, they’ve made some changes that I suppose might bother longtime Sox fans, but that I thought were actually pretty good. They added seats to the top of the Green Monster. They added some seats to the roof of the upper deck. They added (I think) another section of upper deck just past the end of the grandstand in right. And, to me the most surprising: they seem to have talked the city into letting them more or less take over Yawkey Way on game day. Turnstiles are set up in the middle of the street, and once you’re past them, you’re in the park. Towards the back of the outfield grandstands, it appears that they’ve actually moved the exterior walls of the park out onto what would have been the sidewalk, allowing the Sox to open up what had formerly been a cramped concourse under the stands. They’ve used the space to make navigating the park easier and to put up more of the things the contemporary fan is said to want: food stands, urinals, and more food stands. It’s a successful alteration, one that I think I wouldn’t even have noticed had I not been there on a non-game-day tour in 1993.
3) If I didn’t know that Paul Harvey is a Midwesterner, I would have thought he was working as the Red Sox public address announcer last night. The announcer had Harvey’s voice, inflections, tone, and cadences. Jim and I both expected him to end his announcements with “Good day.” Regardless, he was without a doubt the best PA announcer we’ve heard on the trip. Late in the game, with the crowd absolutely ecstatic singing along to “Sweet Caroline” between innings, he began to announce a pitching change for the Tigers. Noticing that the crowd was still shouting “Bump-ba-dah,” he paused, let the last notes of the song pass, and completed his announcement.
4) The guys behind us, four early twenty-somethings down from New York for their first Fenway game, were the sort of drunkies who tend to bug me a lot at Wrigley, in part because they’re always up and down and milling around. But these guys just didn’t bug me that much. They were loud, but a lot of their talk was about the game, and much of the time, when it was off-topic, it was fairly entertaining. Like when one guy was talking about Emeril, and another guy had never heard of Emeril, and the first guy spent ten minutes explaining who Emeril is, complete with a lot of: “You know--Bam! Bam! That guy--Bam!”
5) I do have one suggestion for PA operators at stadiums nationwide: just because a band records a song about your team/ballpark, you shouldn’t play it unless it also doesn’t suck. The only dissonant note in the whole night was the four minutes, pre-game, we had to spend listening to a terrible country (Country? In New England? Why?) song called “Having a Ball at Fenway.” It sucked more than the Blue Jays song; the only reason it wasn’t worse overall was that it wasn’t like spreading throw-up all over the seventh-inning stretch with a butter knife the way the Blue Jays song was.
That song aside, though, the organist and PA people were solid. The organist began the game with “Selections from Jim’s iPod,” which began with “Walk Away Renee” and went on to "Eight Days a Week” and “After the Gold Rush,” among others. Later, I--who usually am not excited all that much by stadium crowd singalongs--got a big kick out of hearing the crowd sing along to “Summer Wind,” then go absolutely brains-melting crazy over “Sweet Caroline.” It’s as big as “Hey Ya!”
It was odd for me to see Red Sox fans--who generally appear to be some of the most attentive fans in baseball--doing the wave and bouncing beach balls.
6) Everyone knows that the Red Sox are Yankee-obsessed. But Jesus, people. “Yankees suck!” chants cropped up without provocation, and anti-Yankee t-shirts were selling nearly as well as Johnny Damon shirts. It’s like the slacker kid in high school constantly writing mean things about the cool kids in his notebook. Sure, I’ve got sympathy, but at the end of the day, he keeps doing it, and he’s just using up space in his notebook he could be using to transcribe Violent Femmes lyrics.
7) The Red Sox scoreboard advertises a new service: if a fan feels his enjoyment of the game is being hindered by, say, drunk and rowdy fans nearby, he can, rather than wait for an usher to show up, call the security hotline on his phone. Not that I’m a fan of using the phone at games, but given that Wrigley Field ushers never seem to be around when drunks begin chucking peanuts at everyone in sight, I could imagine being able to phone security might be helpful. The trick would be avoiding getting a beer dumped on your head while you phoned.
8) And Johnny Damon got a couple of hits, stole a base, scored a run, made a couple of catches. And the Mike Timlin made another great appearance out of the Sox bullpen. And the Sox won, running me and Jim to 6-0 on the trip.
Labels: boston, brpa, Fenway Park, game report, johnny damon, red sox, road trip, tigers
Thursday, August 26, 2004
Bonus pictures from the ferry
First in line for the next trip across Lake Champlain...
The ferry...
Kind of an expensive trip...
The view from the ferry (if there was a view on the other side, it was being blocked by the aforementioned SUV)...
The ferry...
Kind of an expensive trip...
The view from the ferry (if there was a view on the other side, it was being blocked by the aforementioned SUV)...
Labels: brpa,