I If you don’t have the Major League Baseball package at work, you really should look into it. The Average Joe is lucky enough to be allowed to watch baseball at work, and the satellite package is beyond outstanding. I’m watching teams I’d rarely, if ever, see in prime time. After all, what would you rather do – watch the Tigers and Royals or attach that cover sheet to your TPS report?
The start of baseball season always draws me back to a dream that started in college. Before I die, I want to take a summer off and go to at least one game at every major league ballpark. I know I’ve been beaten to the punch on this, but that wouldn’t make it any less fun. The trick is to get somebody else to pay for it. It could be a fun feature on ESPN.com’s Page 2. Or maybe the Sports Memo site (hint, hint).
As for now, my list of ballparks attended is depressingly short. I’ve seen games at Busch Stadium in St. Louis, Turner Field in Atlanta, Wrigley Field, Comiskey Park (the new one), and Pro Player Stadium in Miami. I lived just across the Mississippi River from St. Louis in Bellville, Illinois for several years as a child. I got to see the Cardinals in some of their very good years, and Ozzie Smith was my absolute hero. I’ve been to see the Braves a few times with my wife and father-in-law, and a trip to Miami included the Marlins game in a nearly-empty stadium.
The Wrigley and Comiskey visits came on back-to-back days one July a few years back. In what could be viewed as a trial run for the all-summer trip, I loaded up the car with two buddies and headed for Chicago in the middle of the night. The trip was a blast, but not surprisingly, there were complications. First off, the all-night drive landed us in Chicago at the Comiskey parking lot at about 7:30 a.m. for a midday game. Somewhere in the middle of Illinois the night before, I ate a hamburger that didn’t sit well in the ol’ stomach.
If you’ve never showed up at a stadium four hours early on a Saturday, you should try it. We were surrounded by a mix of tourists like ourselves, hard-core fans, autograph seekers, and a few odd people who looked like they might live in the parking lot. And brushing your teeth and taking a birdbath in the Comiskey sink is not exactly the best way to get your morning off to a chipper start after spending the night in a car. Between the bad burger, the lack of sleep, and the inadequate bathing situation, I was sweaty and passed out in the left-field bleachers by the time the game rolled around. Drifting in and out of consciousness, I saw Magglio Ordonez and Frank Thomas hit homers. Or, more to the point, I was awakened by a Frank Thomas homer bouncing off the seat behind and to the left of me, narrowly missing my slumbering head. I was so hot and tired by the seventh inning that I actually took a shower in my clothes in left field. They had this promotional shower set up on the concourse by some bathroom appliance company, and I took a good cold soaking. It certainly made the last few innings more comfortable. Plus, it cleaned the puke off my shoes from the burger incident.
So I owe one to Comiskey. It didn’t get a fair shake. Everything went great at Wrigley the next day, though. My condition passed, the weather was great, and nobody kicked us out of the incredible seats we squatted in. Of course, the Cubs squandered a big lead to the Pirates, but we didn’t really expect anything else out of the Cubbies. A quick stop at Busch on the way back (including a disappointing 0-for-3 from Mark McGwire) completed the trip.
All told, it was great fun, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat (minus the midnight burger). If you’ve got vacation this summer and don’t know what to do with it, take yourself to the ballpark. You won’t regret it.
