Behind Enemy Lines – Fenway Park

I don't want to spend too much time on this.  Walking into Boston's green stadium decked out in O's gear made me feel as awkward as Steve Urkel walking into a Ku Klux Klan meeting.  My orange and black clashed against everyone else's scarlet shirts.  Sox fans sneered and snorted as they walked past.  The place was packed.  Every street, corridor, and walkway had people streaming through, yet my handful of buddies and I were alone as Orioles fans.  If you want an objective analysis of Fenway, then go elsewhere.  I was a leper in Boston.

I had wanted to get to an O's/Red Sox game all summer because I had been living in Vermont for several months.  Some friends and I were free that weekend and decided to catch a game.  I searched for tickets for a while, and the cheapest we could come up with were $65 a piece.  If you show up to Camden Yards with 65 bucks, you are treated like royalty and seated behind home plate.  If you go to PNC Park with $65, I'm pretty sure they erect a granite statue of you and let you manage the team for the game.  Not so at Fenway Park.  In Boston, 65 bones gets you a 13 inch wide folding chair, 200 rows back in right field that makes your last American Airlines seat seem like a luxurious throne.  So, before the game, I met the ticket guy in a nearby McDonalds.  He had rolls of tickets and cash, a laptop, and some fries tucked away in the corner of the busy restaurant.  I handed him way too much money, he handed me way too crappy of tickets, and I left.

My buddies and I walked into the stadium via Yawkey Way as an orange freak show for the coarse Bostonians.  We entered a corridor that was a century old, it was narrow and uneven.  We were lost, but we wound around towards our seats somehow, well beyond the right field fence, several miles from the Pesky pole.  

 Right away I was struck by how short left field was and how enormous the Green Monster appeared in the outfield.  It was ridiculous, and at the time I commented that from our seats the field looked to be the size of a Little League park rather than a MLB stadium.  It is 302 feet to the Pesky pole, and 310 feet to the Green Monster.  All stadiums built after 1958 are required to have foul lines at least 325 feet.  Sox fans are lucky they have a geezer of a ballpark, otherwise its dimensions would be illegal.

My grade for the stadium is going to be low.  Incredibly expensive parking, absurd ticket prices, cramped seats, laughable dimensions, and the entire complex has the same sickly green color.  Sox fans gush about the unique old-timey beauty of the park.  The hype this place gets is nauseating.  I'll give the park 5 points just because it's historical: 5/15.

As for the food...well we were broke after buying the tickets and didn't eat anything at the park.  I used a water fountain outside of the men's room and had a tart, metallic taste in my mouth from it: 0/5.

Lastly, the fans.  Would you be surprised to hear that Red Sox fans were loud and uncouth, and spoke as though English was a second language behind IFAS, which of course stands for Irish Fetal Alcohol Syndrome?  Of course not.  Prior to the game I was treated with a haughty disdain typical of the historically challenged fan who has blocked out all baseball memories before 2004.  During the game, the local populace seemed perturbed that they were stuck near the only O's fan in the stadium.  I was not overly boisterous, but I did leap up and yell in the second when we ripped a screamer over the Green Monster.  Fans around me growled and told me to sit down.  Not in the haha-we're-fans-of-opposing-teams-so-we're-gonna-rip-on-eachother sort of way, but the I-hate-myself-and-in-order-to-make-my-life-bearable-I-have-to-drag-you-below-me sort of way.

Then, in the bottom of the second, our pitcher had a stroke and forgot how to throw a baseball and gave up the customary seven runs.  This made the Massholes cackle like they were back in middle school giving the nerdy kid a swirly.  I never heard anyone talk about baseball.  They would holler and yell when Boston scored, but besides that people didn't seem very engaged with what was going on.  I wondered if many of them could name every player on the Sox' lineup.  Of course when the headliners came up they would bellow – Fat Papi and Youk made their eyes roll back in their heads and their tongues loll to the side of their mouths.  After the game ended with the embarrassing score of 12-1, my friends and I sheepishly made our way out of the park.  A lady spotted my Ripken jersey and approached me in the first humane act I had experienced while there.  "Sorry we beat you so bad, it's just your team is really horrible."

I didn't think of anything to say besides "thanks", and we exited the old, green stadium.

That one lady earned the Red Sox fans a point: 1/10.

The overall score that Fenway earned in our ballpark ranking: 6/30.  The next lowest score belongs to Citi Field, with a 23/30.  As an Orioles fan, that's my take on the Boston Red Sox experience.  You can call me Shepard Smith, because this right here was Fair and Balanced.

Suck it, Sox.

Turner Field – Home of the Atlanta Braves

First off, I'd like to thank everyone for the support I felt while I was incarcerated by the Devils to the North.  I have since escaped their clutches and plan on keeping a low profile, using gorilla tactics to frustrate the enemy.  During my continual journeys, trying to keep a step ahead of the antagonists, I recently found myself driving from the Gulf of Mexico to the metropolis of Atlanta, Georgia.  The Orioles had a rare interleague series with the Braves, and Mark convinced me that for the sake of The Bastards, I had to make the trip.

I arrived at Turner Field about an hour before the start of the game on the 1st of July, after driving six hours.  Because of my unfamiliarity with the area, I bit the bullet and overpaid to park near the stadium, costing me 10 shekels.  I walked across the street to the main gate, occasionally high-fiving a rare O's fan along the way.  The stadium looked new and clean; I wandered into the ticket line.  A ticketing employee announced that military personnel would receive free admission and a half-priced ticket for a guest, and asked for service members to have their IDs out.  The group of college girls behind me noticed that I grasped my ID, and one of the buzzed coeds exclaimed, "Oh, you're in the military?  I'm gonna be your date, okay?"  She was obviously impressed by my sacrifice for freedom; the prospect of a half-off ticket hadn't entered her mind.  I turned, and the blonde sported a Braves t-shirt knotted to display her midriff and held a Miller Lite in a red Braves koozie.  Upon viewing the supporter of the evening's adversary, my eyes glazed over in disinterest and my face puckered sourly as I shifted to ignore the annoyance.  My lovely fiance would have been proud.

After I received my free ticket (valued at $18), my opinion of the venue brightened as I made my way to my seat.  You can see the view from where I sat, there didn't seem to be a bad seat in the house.  

The experience definitely had a southern feel to it.  The Braves fans were friendly and considerate; they had no reason to dislike a Baltimore Orioles fan.  The companies that advertized were regionally based, with Chick-fil-a, Delta Airlines, and Coca Cola adding to the southern atmosphere.  Even with the Atlanta skyline in the background, Turner Field had a homey feel that made watching the game comfortable and familiar.  I was slightly disappointed by the complete newness of the park, and while there are references to historical Braves players and teams, I expected that a proud franchise like Atlanta would emphasize their past more.  The stadium was fun and had an amusement park feel, but it wasn't very classical or retro.  Perhaps I'm spoiled because Camden Yards is the ultimate and original retro stadium.  Based on Mark's scale, I would give Turner Field a 12.5/15.  

I sat through three scoreless innings as Jeremy "Stormin' Mormon" Guthrie and Jair (Yes, Jair) Jurrjens entered into a pitcher's duel.  The lady next to me commented that JJ Hardy had been a good player for the Brewers years ago, and it seemed he was hitting his stride with the Orioles.  This boosted my opinion of the kindly and now intelligent Braves fans even higher.  I decided I would tour the rest of the park and took my leave.  My stomach led me to several eateries, and $5.75 later I was the owner of a foot long hot dog with all the fixings.

 

I hadn't eaten since two states ago, so the speed at which the jumbo dog was inhaled left little work for my taste buds.  From what I remember, the hot dog was serviceable, but I was surprised that in my wanderings I hadn't seen more sustenance that resembled southern soul food.  Where were the boiled peanuts, the hush puppies, the fried catfish, the BARBECUE?  Perhaps I missed it or didn't make it to the correct part of the park, but the food selection seemed to be lacking.  Yes, I was able to procure a hot dog.  Welcome to America's pastime.  At the Yard, barbecue-scented smoke billows from Boog's in right field.  Chunky crab cakes are seasoned with Old Bay.  It's a mid-Atlantic smorgasbord on the harbor.  A stadium has to create a cultural experience that highlights the local fare.  Otherwise, there's no reason for me to leave my couch and high definition TV and spend money at the ballpark.  I was planning on rating the food a 1 out of 5, but then I remembered that they sold 16 ounce cans of Yuengling lager, which bumped their food category up a full point: 2/5.

I had mentioned before that I was digging the fans.  Towards the sixth inning of the scoreless game, most of us were aware that Jurrjens was working on a no-hitter.  The Braves' young star, Jason Heyward, broke the tie, ripping a two-run line drive past the center field fence in the bottom of the sixth.  There was a huge drum in center field that led the cheer as fans made the tomahawk chopping motion with their arms after the homer.  In the top of the seventh, I watched a woman usher cover her gaping mouth, hoping with each anxious pitch that Jurrjens could carry the no-hitter another inning deeper.  Not long after that, Adam Jones extinguished her hopes with a single that was grounded up the middle.  Of course the O's couldn't score AJ, even after he stole second, but at least we appeared to be threatening in that one inning (Oh brother).

As per usual, the Stormin' Mormon pitched without run support, and after seven solid innings he handed the ball to our Hall of Shame-bound bullpen.  I can't say that at that point the floodgates were opened, but in any case the dam was breached and quickly we were losing by four runs instead of two.

Chipper Jones, a living legend of the Braves franchise, was warmly applauded and encouraged each at bat, while the miserable Dan Uggla swung wildly to a .175 average and a Golden Sombrero, but was never booed or disparaged by his patient fans.  Even the seven million dollar geriatric, Derrek Lee, received fan support because of his brief stint with the Braves.

Based on the general baseball knowledge and player support the Braves fans showed I would rank them with the highest grade possible, with the tipsy squaw at the ticket gate subtracting a point: 9/10.

This brings the overall tally for Turner Field to 23.5/30.  The fans were great, the stadium was enjoyable but lacked a classic feel, and increasing the diversity of the food offerings would make this ballpark one of the best.

Driving 12 hours roundtrip to see the Orioles get shutout was not the plan.  We were one-hit by a guy named Jair.  I was watching his speed, and only every once in a while he hit 90 MPH.  He wasn't throwing hard, but he threw a ton of strikes and his placement was impeccable.  I understand that he's been one of the best pitchers in the majors this year, but our showing was embarrassing.  We made him look better than he is.  There was no pep, no imagination, no fire, and no urgency in our play.  As I parked my car and shuffled to my bed at 3:30 that morning, I thought, "If only they cared as much as I do."

Reuniting with PNC Park (Post 2 in series of 30)

For our 2 year anniversary, Cait and I spent a weekend in the lovely city of Pittsburgh. My beautiful wife even agreed to go to a Pirates game while in town. She is awesome. (If you ever read this, I love you!)

On to the PNC Park Experience...

Philadelphia Phillies @ Pittsburgh Pirates (June 4th, 2011)

Field: What's not to love? The breath-taking skyline? The majestic yellow bridges? The Allegheny River full of kayaks, boats and the Gateway Clipper Fleet? The stadium is intimate without a bad seat in the house. PNC was one of the first parks to have the first level concourse open to the field. Also, the design of the field is unique. There is the "Notch" in left-center field which is a great place to hit a triple. The short porch in right field is named after Pirates legend Roberto Clemente and appropriately stands 21 ft high. Transportation to the stadium is diverse and includes walking along the riverwalk, walking over the Clemente bridge, or taking your boat down the Allegheny. I have yet to see a flaw in PNC Park. 15/15
Fans: Various news outlets estimated a 60:40 ratio of Phillies to Pirates fans. The worst part of the game was being surrounded by Phillies fans. My "Lets! Go! Bucs! Lets! Go! Bucs!" chant was a solo effort in my section. Also, I found the task of trying to defend the city of Pittsburgh by myself overwhelming. The "Lets-Go, Phil-lies" chant was hard to drown out. Fortunately the Pirates did the work for me, silencing the Phillies' fans. There was no heckling present because the home fans were out numbered. Pretty embarrassing. 4/10

Food: The World Famous Primanti Bros is the place to eat at PNC Park. I recommend the Capicola Sandwich, which includes coleslaw and french fries all on two slices of hearty bread. The sandwich is awesome but stay away from Iron City Beer, it sucks(-.5). Also, don't get the P-Bros cheesesteak sandwich. After living in Philly for 2 years, the real cheesesteaks are in Philly. 4.5/5
Overall: 23.5/30

Currently the weakness at PNC is the lack of fan support. I am confident that in less than 5 years the fans of Pittsburgh will develop and grow much like the Phillies fan base grew during the past decade.

Next Ballpark: Nationals Park in D.C.

Saturday Nights at PNC = Fireworks = Legit

The Citi Never Sleeps, Better Slip You an Ambien (post #1 in a series of 30)

On Memorial Day, I was able to spend a day in New York City with friend of the blog, CJ Neral. Our epic day in the city was topped off with a beautiful evening at Citi Field to watch the Pirates take on the Mets. As discussed in an earlier post, I will rank all 30 Major League stadiums on a 30 point scale.

Field – The two year old park is majestic. It has a beautiful oversized and open bricked entrance. The whole park has arches everywhere (including the formation of the lights). Cait pointed out that it may be a play off of the Citi logo. Clever. The playing field itself is beautiful. The outfield is enormous and large enough for about 50 head of cattle to graze. The stadium is located in Queens and right next to La Guardia Airport. Which is good for transportation but the sound of airplanes landing every five minutes is annoying. One thing that bothered me was the “batter’s eye” in center field. It was just black. No trees or shrubs or grass. It was an eye sore on such a new stadium. Also, they were tons of advertisements, a little too many in my opinion. They did have a “Big Apple” that apparently rises after a home run which is nearly impossible to hit with the dimensions of Citi Field. Overall 11.5/15.

Fans – A Memorial Day crowd filled most of the stadium. We had a group of chuckle buckets who would start various chants for their favorite players. They were actually creative and entertaining. I received a friendly “Good luck tonight” while in line at the Shake Shack and heckle of “SIT DOWN!” after the Pirates hit an early two run home run. Also, the Wave was also present during the Mets late inning rally. Overall, the Mets fans were surprising and received a score of 8/10.

Food – The Shake Shack was recommended by multiple sources. The line itself also gave it a glowing recommendation. It took us 25 minutes until it was our turn to order, which got us to our seats just in time to see Jose Tabata lead off the game. The Shake Shack is known for its mayo-infused burgers, crinkle fries, and shakes of course. The crinkle fries were bangin’! Crispy and lightly salted. Mmmm. But, no Heinz ketchup? C’mon! The burger was good and equipped with lettuce, tomato, and more mayo. It wasn’t mind blowing but solid. As a farm boy, I’m hard to impress with a standard burger. I think "mayo-infused" just stands for "greaser." I made a financial decision not to order the $6 shake, but I am currently regretting that. Overall score of 3.5/5.

Total: 23/30 for Citi Field

A Lifelong Goal

A couple years ago, I had an idea of trying to watch the Pirates play in every Major League city. Part of it is my love for traveling and seeing new places/cities. Most of it is my love for baseball and watching a professional baseball game in person.

In addition, I want to see how the stadiums around the nation compare to one another and to the “Gold Standard” that is PNC Park. I have developed a scoring system in an effort to objectify the various ballparks. The three categories that comprise the scoring system are Field, Fans, and Food. Each category is weighted differently.

Field (15pts) – The architecture of the stadium. The backdrop of the stadium. How well the playing field is groomed. Additional amenities and attractions. Transportation to the stadium. Location of the field in respect to the city. All of these factors and others will be considered under the scoring of the “Field” category.

Fans (10pts) – The main scoring will be based mostly on the fans’ passion for their team and the game. Were there chants for individual players? Any standing ovations? The Wave? Also, this category includes treatment of opposing fans (myself). Casual conversation during pregame/between innings = + pts. Friendly heckling = + pts. Death threats = - pts.

Food (5pts) – Every ballpark has a signature sandwich, BBQ, or burger that could cost you several innings while waiting in line. But the question is if the food was worth the wait? This category will discuss the best eats at every stadium.

Field + Fans + Food = #/30

Easy enough. Let the journey begin!

I have seen enough of…

First, I want to apologize for my lack of blogging over this past semester. Graduate school has consumed my life for the past few months. But there is only two weeks of classes left! More blogging to come!

One of the joys of being a baseball fan is watching the development of young players. From the draft, up through the minors and entering into the majors. Current Buccos that fit the bill include: Andrew McCutchen, Jose Tabata, Neil Walker, and Pedro Alvarez.

On the other hand, one if the worst parts of being a baseball fan is watching players who will have no impact on the future of your team. These players are known as “stop-gaps,” “fillers,” “veterans¹,” “former 1^st round picks,” “journey-men.” After two weeks into the season, you’ve seen enough of them.

Many times, I have bought into the familiar phrases that wash ashore with these castaways: “he just needs a change of scenery,” “he still has some left in the tank,” and my personal favorite “he will bring some veteran leadership to the locker room.” Because as we all know, Pittsburgh is where careers are rejuvenated…

Infamous names that still scathed me are: Jeremy Burnitz; Raul Mondesi; Joe Randa; Matt Morris; Jose Mesa; insert another washed-up slob.

The current Bucco that is absolutely painful to watch is Ronny Cedeno. We are the third MLB team to say, “Ronny is a really good AAA shortstop.” On a good night, Ronny will go 1-4, which includes two strikeouts, a groundout to the pitcher, and a bloop single to left field.

I have seen enough of him. I know exactly what Ronny is bringing to the table. It isn’t good and it will never be good. Unfortunately, we don’t have anyone to replace him. So, there is no resolution in site.

Crap.

1 - This guy from Major League

Bizarro Baseball

Ah yes, Spring Training.  The annual appetizer that activates our hunger for sunflower seeds, mustard dogs, and Boog's Barbeque.  In our advanced state of cabin fever we yearn for the sound of ash clubbing stitched leather and Joe Angel's final exhortation: "Put this one in the WIN column!"  Our eyes are weak and unfocused without the stimulating barrage of Orioles Orange that we, along with our friends, plan to faithfully don from head to toe.  Our nostrils strain to acquire the scent of freshly cut Kentucky Blue Grass and pine tar.  But it's a tease.  There's no Boog's.  Winning doesn't matter, and I doubt that Ed Smith Stadium boasts the same handsome turf that the Yard manicures.  Who cares anyways?  We're not going to get off work to drive to Sarasota to check.  It's Bizarro Baseball.  Remember the Seinfeld episode with "Bizarro Jerry"?  Elaine made friends with a guy who was like Jerry, but opposite at the same time.  That's Spring Training for me.  It's still baseball, but it's just not quite right.  Ties happen.  Winning is optional.  Half of the names on the O's roster are foreign to me.  The ballparks are surrounded by palm trees.  Bizarre.

Perhaps something else that adds to my general unease this year is the actual makeup of the team.  I just can't tell whether or not we're going to jell, and shuffling everyone around for a few innings per "game" doesn't help solidify my squishy apprehension.  Andy MacPhail's (in)famous motto is "buy the bats, grow the arms", and this policy has led to a fairly heterogeneous mishmash of players that may or may not become a functional force.  None of our many offseason pickups are really in the prime of their careers except for Mark Reynolds, the slugger with the three highest strikeout totals in MLB history.  Our additions are injury-prone wildcards: JJ Hardy (wrist), Justin Duchscherer (hip/depression), Derrek Lee (thumb), Kevin Gregg (knee), and Vladimir Guerrero (Count Choculitis).  Not to mention Brian Roberts' perpetual back spasms and Koji Uehara's yearly elbow injury.  But with all this doom and gloom we must remember that the O's did upgrade from last year (our All-Star was Ty Wigginton); we just can't view this as a "worst to first" scenario.  It is a realistic attempt at a .500 record given our market and division.  At this point, our short term goal is relevance and mediocrity rather than World Series triumphs and super model girlfriends.

Bizzaro Baseball also sends us conflicting messages about our young, studly pitching staff.  At two or three innings a game, our developing hurlers are supposed to prove that they're ready to start the season.  The problem is that the situations these kids are in during Spring Training are light-years apart from regular season competition.  Just because they're playing the Yankees doesn't mean they're contending with legendary Bronx Bombers.  Instead, they might face Derek Jeter's 15 year old nephew (cute PR stunt), A-Roid trying to bat lefty, and career Spring Training attendee, Reegie Corona.  What do you think the scouting report looks like for Reegie Corona?  I'm not sure, but if I'm Matt Wieters I might call a four-seam, another four-seam, and a bender at the knees just to see what happens.  Can you blame Brian Matusz if Mr. Corona shuts his eyes, says a prayer, and flails at the 0-2 curveball and somehow gets hold of it?  Maybe to some extent, but I just hate to read too far into any of this bizzaro nonsense.

Speaking of being level-headed, have you heard about our 23 year old Cy Young-to-be?!  Zach Britton is a power lefty with a low, lively fastball who has not allowed a run all spring, and has drawn more than his share of attention.  Chances are he'll be called up in late May once Justin Duchscherer becomes the first human to break three hips at the same time and heads for the DL.  Then we'll have Jake Arrieta, Brad Bergesen, Brian Matusz, Chris Tillman and finally Zach Britton in our 25 and under rotation, with Jeremy Guthrie anchoring at age 31.  This juvenile pitching staff will definitely have its ups and downs this year, but the growth potential is great.  Along with an extra run or two per game thanks to the offensive additions, it should translate to a few more wins, inching us towards a much-needed winning season.

In order to drive this notion of Bizarro Baseball home, let me direct your attention to the Spring Training leader in home runs, Jake Fox.

Jake is our back-up catcher.  Sort of.  He is actually fighting for the back-up catching job, and it seems like he may have earned it.  In his 45 at-bats this spring, he has hit seven homers, two more than anyone else in MLB.  That means if he gets, say, 500 at-bats this season, we can expect 78 homers, right?  Jake will make Barry Bonds* record just a bad memory.  This is the nonsensical bizarro atmosphere we're in during Spring Training.  Black is white, up is down, Jake Fox is Hank Aaron.  Gosh, just bring on the Regular Season.