Our Inaugural Baseball Adventure: Day 1. Coors Field.

It has long been a dream of mine to visit all 30 Major League Baseball Stadiums, ideally in one summer, but, more realistically, over the course of several years. Living in Southern California, I have easy access to 3 parks within a few hours of my home. Petco Park, Angel Stadium and Dodger Stadium are all "been there, done that" and I have seen several games at PacBell/SBC/3Com/AT&T Park as well. In fact, I have seen the Cubs at all of these venues.

This year I decided I was going to add to my ballpark resume, and picked Coors Field in Denver and Chase Field in Phoenix, due to their relative proximity to both me and each other. Soon flights and hotels were booked and immediately following the All Star break, Lauren and I were about to take place in our first baseball road trip, and our first stop was 2 games at beautiful Coors Field.

Fortunately we were able to book our vacation so that we were not only visiting the ballparks, but that we were able to see the Cubs in both venues. We would be attending 2 games in Denver and 3 games in Phoenix.

Hotels were reserved. Plane tickets were ready. Vacation was approved at work and we were ready to go. As our vacations are usually to destinations that require several hours travel flying out on the dawn flights for this adventure had us nonplussed...until we realized that we would be arriving in Denver at 10 in the morning...leaving us essentially homeless until the official check-in time of 3pm.

Thankfully the hotel was able to accommodate us early and we were able to take a nap before heading out to the game. We had conscientiously decided to not book a car and trust public transportation for this vacation. That was a bad idea for Denver. Our hotel was out in the boonies of town and the only option was a bus ride that took approximately 30 minutes and picked us up by an abandoned auto parts store near the hotel and dropped us off about a half mile from Coors Field, walking through a bit of a shantytown. Needless to say, this was the first and last bus ride we took in Denver--and actually for the remainder of the trip.

When we were within view of the ballpark I was already chomping at the bit to get inside, but Lauren realized that we hand't eaten aside from the McDonalds breakfast before leaving San Diego so food became priority number 1. We wandered for a bit until we saw a sign for the Blake Street Tavern, which I had actually heard of.

This was one of the most fantastic decisions we made on the whole trip and if I lived within any reasonable distance from Denver, I would have quickly become a regular. My French dip sandwich was quite possibly the finest that I have ever tasted and I consider myself a French dip connoisseur. Lauren's flat iron steak sandwich was fantastic as well.

After filling ourselves on delicious pub food we made our way to Coors Field. We were still a little bit before first pitch and the lines to get in weren't bad. After we had my camera bag checked out we approached the gate staff to get our "Rockies 20th Anniversary" pint glass. The staff was discussing how they only had a few undamaged glasses left and then, in plain view, stashed several under a table while telling us that they had run out. I was upset. Not because I necessarily needed a Rockies pint glass, but on principle.

We found another gate after entering the stadium and explained our situation to the gate staff there. Before I had even finished my tale of woe the Rockies staffer was handing us 2 glasses and telling us to have a good time at the game, which cancelled out the bad vibes that I was holding toward the Rockies for the incident at the first gate.

Now it was time to find our seats out in right field and check out the field. We were about a dozen rows above the right fielder and much lower to the field than the seats that we were used to at Angel Stadium. I loved them.

What I didn't love was the couple that was sitting next to us. Not only did they bring, seemingly, the entire produce section from Costco with them (a haul which included several boxes of strawberries and an entire container of mini cinnamon rolls) but they were the type of people who have the most rudimentary information about baseball, which clearly means they were experts who were able to speak intelligently on the subject with absolute authority. We would encounter many of these fans in our travels.

Eventually they ended up getting up later in the game and thankfully found seats a few rows down from us. I think my pro-Cub leanings somehow upset them.

Speaking of the Cubs, this was not their finest hour. They lost fairly handily 9-3 and Carlos Villanueva got roughed up for the second time that I have seen him...in the two Cub games I had attended at this point in the season.

Before we left we asked the usher to take some photos of us with the field and scoreboard behind us. He had the hardest time figuring out how my camera worked, despite my explanation, but eventually got some shots in, albeit not exactly what we wanted, but close enough and he was pleasant enough and seemed pleased when we told him we were from out of town and would be attending the next day.

After leaving the stadium we expected to find some food fairly easily and then take a taxi home. This didn't exactly happen. Despite downtown Denver being packed with bars, college kids and--as of a few months--weed, there was not a suitable restaurant to find not to mention any taxis. On a Friday night. At 11 pm.

We eventually used the Yelp! app on my phone and found a place that we had heard of, called Biker Jim's, to grab a bite to eat and call for a taxi. Except none of the cab companies in Denver answered their phones. Or the texts that the automated voices on their hold messages. Even the staff at Biker Jim's didn't have any advice for us to find a cab. Neither did our hotel concierge.

We got our food to go, planning to eat it in the room, and wandered the streets of Denver in search of any sort of vehicle for hire, possibly as we got closer back to Coors Field.

Eventually we found a cab that had just dropped off a fare and I ran at it like a crazy man, hoping he wouldn't speed away. Luckily he was able to take us to the hotel, despite the fact that his meter broke and he charged us a reasonable flat rate.

Back at the hotel we unwrapped our vittles and attacked them vigorously. Biker Jim's specializes in exotic hot dogs and sausages and despite the somewhat limited late night menu, we were able to find some delicious and interesting selections; Lauren ruined Christmas by getting a reindeer sausage, while I remained respectful to all major holidays by choosing boar meat. The boar meat was very sweet, which is right up my alley, while the reindeer was a bit gamey (reindeer games?) and we were both pleased with our individual selections.

At this point it was late and since we were planning to head out early for a breakfast before the day game on the following morning, we decided to head to bed after a fun and successful day 1 of the inaugural baseball adventure.

The complete collection of photos from this game can be found here

The Cubs Visit Me and Break My Heart...Again

The day that I had been waiting for was finally here and the Cubs were descending upon Anaheim. Yes, I had seen them in Los Angeles and San Diego, but having them here in my current town was very exciting and surreal for me. So was the desire to root for someone other than the Angels-- the only time I'll do that is when they play my Cubs.

I decided to be a decent person and not drag Lauren to the game at the crack of dawn to wait for the Cubs to come to the stadium and try to get autographs. We did, however, get there before the gates opened to wait for the guys to take batting practice and, hopefully, interact.

I waited down the right field line with two fellow Cub fans, a dad and young son. This would prove to be a good strategic move, as baseball players are more likely to respond to a small kid than to an unshaven 30-year old guy. This would prove true as the afternoon went on.

I wasn't feeling well to begin with, and standing directly in the unrelenting Southern California sun was not doing me any favors, so I alternated standing at the wall and sitting in the seats. The first Cub that we saw was Jeff Samardzija who was coming out to run and do a bit of long toss. The kid next to me asked him if he'd sign and he said that he would after he worked out.

Jeff proved true to his word and signed down the line and got to us. I told him that I was really hoping that we would sign him to a contract extension and that I wanted to see him as a Cub for a long time. I'm sure he gets that a lot, but he seemed genuinely appreciative as he signed a baseball on the sweet spot for me.

Next out was Matt Garza who was to be the starting pitcher the following day. The kid again yelled out to him and he said he'd be over after he finished his work too. He did some throwing right in front of us, and as he finished I asked him for the ball and he nodded, but his throw was a bit off and the ball went to the kid next to me. While I could have grabbed it, I wasn't going to be a jerk and take the ball from a kid. Gaza proceeded to the outfield for some running drills and the kid next to me just kept yelling to him. I tried to impress upon the kid that he was doing his job now and that he said he'd be back, so just relax and he'd be over when he was done. 

Garza finished running and signed all the way from beyond the foul pole all the way down to us right near the dugout. He signed for me, again on the sweet spot, and I told him that I tweeted to him a lot and that I hoped he got the win the next day. He said that he needed to start throwing the ball well to get wins, and I assured him that I thought he was. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy and I hope he doesn't get traded and we give him a contract extension.

By this time, it was about time to return to my seat. When I got there, Lauren had a hot dog and a bottle of water waiting for me, which was great because by this point I was physically not doing well at all.

Reinvigorated by my snack, I was ready for some baseball, though I had an aura of foreboding in my stomach. After all, the game was Jered Weaver versus (now ex-Cub) Scott Feldman. Feldman had been pitching well, but going against a (presumably) high-octane offense like the Angels with Weaver on the mound didn't bode well.

Surprisingly, the Cubs scored early against Weaver, with a 3-1 lead after three innings. Feldman did a great job of holding the Angels down, going a strong 7 innings and only allowing 2 runs. The Cub offense, as so often happens, started strong but died after three innings, not scoring again. being handcuffed by former Cubs, Scott Downs and Robert Coello and closer Ernesto Frieri.

Unfortunately, again, the Cub bullpen was not up to the task, as Carlos Villanueva entered in the 8th inning and gave up a base hit to Erik Aybar and the big blow, Albert Pujols' 54th career home run against the Cubs. There was no coming back from that as the Cubs were only able to scrape together a base hit from Darwin Barney in the top of the 9th and went home losers, as the excitement of the Cubs fans that had been evident since the early scoring bonanza evaporated into the ether of Angel Stadium. 

This was the one time this season that I regretted the Angels lighting the Halo. I was excited to see the Cubs come back the following day and add to my autograph/baseball collection, but as the previous entry will attest, that was not in the cards for me.

On a personal note, I'd like to know if these entries are basically just me screaming into the void that is the internet, so if you read this, and enjoy it, even just a little bit, please leave a comment and let me know! 

Thanks!

That Time The Cubs Tried to Kill Me

So...I was only able to attend the first of the Cubs-Angels games, and while I had a fairly successful evening, and I will be writing it up shortly, but here is a letter that I wrote to the Cubs regarding missing that second game.

Hello-

My name is Andrew and I am 31 years old. My mother’s family hails from Chicago and I grew up watching Harry and Steve and Ryno and Mark and Andre on WGN. I have never wavered in my love of Cubdom, despite baring the slings and arrows of my friends, who were friends of more traditionally successful franchises. 

Heck, even the Padres went to the World Series in 1998! Don’t even get me started on the upstart Devil Rays, Diamondbacks, Rockies and Marlins....or Astros or Mets or...well, you probably know the list as well as I. 

Through all of that, I have prevailed. That is, until the Cubs tried to do me in! When I was 11, I diagnosed type-1 diabetes, or, as I call it, Ron Santo’s disease. While I certainly do not blame the Cubs for this malady, it is the first in a series of escalating medical bouts, many of which have Cub-related associations. These include such things as selective Tourettes syndrome, occurring during the playoffs of both 2004 and 2008 and the ever increasing Marmol-ian headaches which have persisted through much of the past two seasons. 

Once again, all of this has been taken in stride, until the most recent occasion. I live in Southern California and rarely get the chance (or risk) to see my Cubs in person, but this year, my fiancee was able to procure excellent tickets to see the Cubs play the Angels in Anaheim on both Tuesday night and Wednesday afternoon. We very much enjoyed the game until the 8th inning, when Albert Pujols won the game on a late-inning home run, his 54th against the Cubs. I returned home dejected, but looking forward the seeing the game the following day. 

That is, until about 2 in the morning, when I awoke throwing up blood with what was later diagnosed as a severely bleeding ulcer. This is the first time that such an illness has been associated with my love of the Cubs. I understand that you are doing the best that you can, trying to put a championship caliber team on the field but I beg you to please try to do so sooner rather than later. I am using my vacation this year to follow my beloved Cubs to both Phoenix and Denver this summer, and I am not relishing spending my time laid up in a hospital wing...or worse!

Thank you and yours in Cub-dom,

Andrew

See-ya Se-attle: The Angels Resume the Sinking of the Mariners

After the insanity of the previous night's game, where Mike Trout hit for the cycle, Lauren told me that even as she was up in Simi Valley, her brother sprung it on her that he wanted to go to the Angels game. Sadly, they had left the DeLorean back at the hotel, so he was unable to time travel in order to make it to the Big A on time for the game.

When I heard about this, I felt bad and suggested that we try to get tickets to the next afternoon's game against the Mariners. We were able to get good seats in the Field Level for less than ten dollars a ticket, so back to the old ballgame I went.

Lauren's brother is a Giants fan, pretty much one of the worst kinds of people. As we were planning the details for the baseball game I made sure to tell him that he could not wear his new Giants cap. I hate it when fans wear the attire of teams that are not participating in the game. All baseball teams are not created equal and just because something is baseball related, does not mean it is appropriate for every game.

He showed up not only wearing his Giants cap, but also a Houston Astros shirt. Neither of whom were playing. This essentially sums up my relationship with Lauren's brother.

I was excited to finally see CJ Wilson take the mound at Angel Stadium. This would be my first time to see him in person since his big signing as a free agent the year before. I have always liked CJ, even when he was a hated Texas Ranger. He has been entertaining on Twitter and was one of the first big ballplayers to embrace the new media. Plus, he has always been a heck of a pitcher.

The Angels picked up right where they had left off the night before, including Mike Trout hitting a single and a triple in his first two at-bats. Alas, the dual cycle was not to happen, but the Angels put a hurt on Brandon Maurer, a local boy from the nearby city of Orange, and he was credited with giving up all seven runs. He lasted all of three innings, and the Mariner bullpen slammed the door on the Angels, shutting them out from the fourth inning onward.

The seven runs, though, were more than enough for CJ Wilson, who went eight strong innings and only allowed one run. Mike Scioscia inexplicably brought in Dane De La Rosa for the ninth inning, and even with that six run cushion, I was uneasy. Surprisingly, De La Rosa did his job, despite some two out dramatics, and the Angels lit up the Halo.

Continuing my luck from the Royals game, we were once again treated to visiting fans who don't understand how to behave in another team's ballpark. As the game was winding down, they weren't rooting on their team, they were trying to incite the home team fans, in a game that they were losing quite handily. I don't understand how standing in the front of the entire section and basically baiting  thousands of the opposing team's fans makes sense, especially when you are being soundly destroyed by that opposing team.

I will be attending both of the Cubs-Angels games fully festooned in my Cubbie regalia, but I won't be inciting the Angels fans. There is a way to conduct yourself with a sense of dignity while cheering on your visiting team. I will be cheering every home run and great play, but I will also not be mocking the local fans.

It's just common decency as well as respect.

Until Next Time, Keep Trippin' Baseballs!

The Greatest Game I've Witnessed

For the second consecutive game I was dateless. Lauren's mom and brother were coming in to town and she was planning to join them on their visit to the Reagan Library. I already had tickets for the Angel game, so I opted out and called my brother, Matt, to see if he wanted to join me for the game and the free Mike Trout pint glass. He agreed to leave work early and drive the hour and a half from San Diego to Anaheim.

Due to traffic, we didn't get to the Big A until after 6 pm, with the game scheduled to start at 7. I had completely written off the idea of getting in for batting practice, which was fine, but I was paranoid that we wouldn't get one of the pint glasses. We finally reached our seats in center field a few minutes before the pre-game festivities began.

We were actually sitting in a pretty neat spot as we were right next to the batters eye/national park in center field and kind of cornered in our own little box. It was cozy. We got our food before sitting down and basically didn't need to move for the entire game. This fact would prove to be a very, very good thing.

I had been watching the Cubs game on TV, waiting for Matt to get into town, and they mentioned off-handedly that Aaron Harang was one of the biggest Cub killers of all time. Harang was the Mariners starter and I figured that it was just my luck that he would destroy the Angels as well. That isn't exactly what happened.

After hitting a home run and a triple his first 2 at-bats, it seemed like Josh Hamilton was going to be the hero of the night on his birthday, and a candidate to hit for the cycle, having gotten the hardest part out of the way to start the night. While the Angels were smacking the ball all over the yard against the weak Mariner pitching, Mike Trout was quietly putting together a pretty remarkable night of his own. After he hit a 3 RBI double in the 6th, I turned to Matt and said, "If he got credit for a base hit in his second AB, he is a home run away from the cycle..." We whipped out our phones and checked, and it was indeed an infield hit in the third.

I'm not sure how many in the crowd realized what was happening because as the Angels' lead grew bigger and bigger, the crowd in the ballpark got smaller and smaller, but I have been to enough games in my life to realize that a baseball game is not over until that 27th out is recorded, let alone to not leave  when there is an assault on history.

Innings came and innings went, and the Angels continued scoring while the Mariners did not, but that was, for all intents and purposes, meaningless. We were waiting for one more time at the plate for Mr. Trout. He came to bat in the eighth, with no one on base.

The count against Lucas Luetge was 2-0 when Trout connected on the pitch. It was a long drive right off the bat and it was undeniable that he had hit a home run to complete the cycle. The stadium erupted and after Trout had made his way around the bases, was forced out of the dugout for a curtain call. It was an incredible moment.

As I mentioned, I have been to a lot of baseball games over my lifetime, but I have never been to a game with the historical significance as this. Previously, the closest I had come to was at the second game of a double-header in old Jack Murphy Stadium one afternoon when Kevin Brown took a no-hitter into the late innings, but, as the Padres still lack a no-hitter, we know how that turned out in the end. It was absolutely exhilarating to witness a moment of this caliber in person.

As Trout returned to the field for the top of the 9th, he was very reluctant to make his way out to center field, opting to stand near second base and chat with Josh Hamilton. It was like he knew that we were going to lavish him with love and he didn't want it, being a bit of a quiet guy, but he eventually had to make his way out, and got loved on whether he wanted it or not.

The only issue I had with the game was the removal of Jerome Williams in the 9th after he had spent the previous 8 innings completely dealing. Albeit he had thrown 107 pitches, but given the weakness of the Angels bullpen and the strength of Williams through the 8th inning, I feel like he could have finished the game and earned his first complete game shutout of the year, but overall, this is the most minor of quibbles.

The funny thing about this whole deal was the fact that earlier in the day, Matt had been trying to see if he could pass his ticket off to one of my other brothers, since he had been relatively missing a lot of work and didn't look forward to telling his boss that he was leaving early again to attend the game. I think, when all was said and done, he was reasonably happy with his decision to come up to see Mike Trout become the youngest American League player to hit for the cycle since Mel Ott and the first Angel since Chone Figgins.

In the years to come, as Trout continues his rise to elite superstardom, I'm sure that the number of people who will claim to have been at this game will double or even triple the actual number, but to have actually been there was truly an amazing experience, and one that I will treasure for the rest of my life.

Until next time, Keep Trippin' Baseballs!

Well This Sox: In Which, I Attend the White Sox-Angel Game Solo

 I hate the White Sox. I have hated them as long as I can remember, being a rational Cub fan. The two factors that most fueled my vitriol during the most recent years, Ozzie Guillen and AJ Pierzynski, are no longer with the team, and with that I am not blinded by the hatred that I once was for the boys from the South Side. I still canNOT stand Hawk Harrelson, but if an obnoxious broadcaster is the pinnacle of my dislike, things have calmed down considerably.

All that being said, I really wanted to go to the May 16th game against the Sox. Not so much for the game, per se, but for the Mark Trumbo bobble head that was the giveaway that night. I had found cheap tickets after some negotiation with ScoreBig.com and both Lauren and I would be off work in barely enough time to head over to the Big A for the game. Then, reality hit. Lauren was sick and had been invited to see an opening day showing of the new Star Trek movie, which interested her much more than the Angels game. I was now at an impasse.

I really wanted that bobble head, but I had never been to a baseball game solo before. I am actually very loathe to be solo in public, as I irrationally assume that everyone is staring at me and wondering, "Who is the weird guy with no friends?" My desire for the knick-knack that I have no need nor space for outweighed my social anxiety and I decided I was going to go it alone.

Lauren picked me up from work and brought my change of clothes so I wouldn't have to drag a bag full of smelly work clothes into the ballpark and dropped me off, en route to her theater for the movie. Since I had paid for 2 tickets, I was certainly going to get both the bobble heads that I had paid for. I initially thought that to get both bobble heads I would need to engage in all sorts of trickery and enter initially through Gate A, exit Gate B, hide the swag and enter Gate C, all while changing shirts and using a fake mustache to avoid being recognized.

In reality, I walked up to the ticket scanner, told the woman that I had 2 tickets, that Lauren would not be joining me but that I did want her bobble head. She looked at me, asked if I was sure Lauren wasn't coming and upon my assent, yelled for the distribution elves to give me 2. Painless, but not nearly as exciting as my imagined spy mission.

I made my way out to right field and found my seat in an empty row and sat down to begin my solo adventure. I had the row to myself for awhile, until the sorority girls came by. They added quite an interesting element to the game with all of their insightful comments, which included the statement that they weren't going to boo at all, because "...that would be, like, really bad sportsmanship" and the need to share details about exactly how they wanted their future weddings and boyfriends to be. And, of course they were ignorant Disneyland passholders. With no other human being to talk to, I got to listen to this banter for the entire duration of the game. Yay, lucky me.

Meanwhile, on the field there was a baseball game. The Angels actually held the lead for a vast majority of the game supporting a fairly solid outing from Jerome Williams until the fantastic bullpen duo of Dane De La Rosa and Michael Kohn made an appearance in the 8th. De La Rosa gave up the tying run and Kohn decided that Jeff Keppinger, he of the .188 batting average, should get his first walk of the season. With the bases loaded. With a tie score.

This, sorority girls, is why you boo.

The Angels failed to mount a comeback against Jesse Crain and Addison Reed and, despite having Reed on my fantasy league team, I felt no joy.

My first solo game was a success and I had lots of friends ask me if I would do it again. Absolutely, I would. The only change is that I think I'd bring a small FM radio to listen to the game. I had my iPhone with the MLB AtBat app, where I could listen to the game, but there tends to be a bit of a delay there and I didn't want to be listening to a game on a 30 second to 2 minute delay that was happening live in front of me. That's how accidental time travel occurs and nobody wants that.

Until Next Time, Keep Tripping Baseballs.

In Which I Snap My Losing Streak and the Angels Beat the Royals

I recently found a great site online that operates like Expedia or Priceline, but for event tickets, where you tell it roughly where you want to sit, submit a bid and see if you can score a major discount on tickets. I discovered it the other day on Twitter when I randomly saw an ad for it, offering tickets that were valued at 35 dollars selling for bids of 5. I rolled the dice and once again, Lauren and I found ourselves at Angel Stadium on a Tuesday evening. And, of course, I once again found myself being shut out from any baseballs or autographs.

Not that I didn't have my chance though. We got to the game early and the Royals were on the field. I trotted down from our seats to the field barrier and waited with a fairly large group of fans trying to get a batting practice ball. Greg Holland was warming up near us and any time a ball came to him, all the fans were just screaming "HOLLAND!" having read it on the back of his jersey. I tried a different approach, since I actually knew his name and yelled "Greg!" He finally got a ball, turned and threw it. It was coming right for me. And then, a ginger guy stepped right over to me, stuck his glove in my face and snagged my ball. He walked away for a moment, which was a wise plan on his part because I was steaming, but then had the audacity to come back a few minutes later. Needless to say, there were no more baseball tossed in my vicinity.

Following that, I went over and hung out by the Royals dugout for a little bit, but none of the players were around signing.

I read a lot of MLBlogs and just independent autograph/ballhawking blogs in general and am always astounded as the bloggers recount 5, 10 or even 20 baseball days and I have yet to get one this season? It seems very strange to me. I know I'm not the fresh faced little kid or a hot blonde chick, but then again neither are these other bloggers. What am I doing wrong?

But I digress. The Angels threw Jason Vargas on the mound versus Jeremy Guthrie. Guthrie was sporting a shiny 5-0 record and the Angels were floundering, so I was somewhat wary of the matchup, but I need not be worried. The big boys--Trout, Pujols, Hamilton and even lil' Howie Kendrick homered and the Angels cruised to a 6-2 victory.

There was however a dark spot on this victory. That was the Royals fans who were sitting near us. The woman was probably no more than 30, was sitting in the front row and sporting a Royals t-shirt. That is all well and good. I can certainly understand wearing your team's gear into an opposing stadium. Heck, I have only ever seen the Cubs as a visiting team. However, you do not then try to heckle the home team's fans and get angry when your drunken actions get thrown back in your face.

She spent the first half of the game screeching at right fielders, Jeff Francoeur and Mark Trumbo, proclaiming her screechy love for Frenchy and vitrol at Trumbo. That was annoying, but it's her right to do so. After a few beers, the second half of the game was mostly spent turned around shouting at the section of Angels fans behind her, her defense being that the Royals had a better record and had won the night before. I have never seen an entire section of fans turn on a single person like section F132 did on that woman. The entire section started booing her and as she and her partner left (before the game was over, mind you) she tried to start at least 2 fights. It was spectacular.

Like I said, it put a slightly bad taste in my mouth because even the Angels fans we had sitting around us were on the obnoxious side, but if that's the price I have to pay to see them light up that Halo every game I attend, I will gladly bare that burden for the cause.

Until Next Time, Keep Tripping Baseballs!