22 Hours in Cincinnati~!

22 hours in Cincinnati! 3am to 1am. Sleep on the way there and on the way back. That was the plan as I drew it up. Theoretically, a nine hour train ride overnight should give me plenty of time to sleep for a 22 hour marathon day on the Ohio-Kentucky border. Alas, only in my dreams would this ever happen. It was a foolhardy, half-cocked plan that never had a chance of success.

4:05am – The train arrives in Cincinnati, three-quarters of an hour behind schedule which pleases only me. I have no where to go until a Starbucks opens up and the late arrival gives me just enough time to wander into downtown just in time for the doors to open at 5am without wasting time at the station.

4:15am – I have an address but no directions to downtown. I piece together the necessary information from a series of maps in the yellow pages and leave the station. It’s then that I realize, “hey, downtown has tall buildings, why don’t you just walk towards them, you idiot.”

4:50am – I get to the Starbucks with ten minutes to spare. A quick glance inside gives me bad news. There’s no one there. Speaking from experience, this is not a good sign with 10 minutes to the open. With nothing to do I begin to walk around the area. The ballpark is just down the street so I go to check it out.

5:05am - I don't really have anything to see here, I just really liked the name Salmon Portland Chase.

5:15am – Back at the Starbucks and the Shift is just now arriving. I know it’ll be about 20 minutes from now when they open so I inquire as to where the nearest store is. It’s just two blocks away.

5:30am – I make myself comfortable. I rarely get drip coffee but I’m going to need it if I’m going to make it through 22 hours. I plan on staying in the store until 9 when everything starts to open up. And it gives me plenty of time to catch up on my blog.

6:30am – So much for that plan. I didn’t even last 3 hours. I know I’m not going to make it without crashing so I quickly check online for the closest hotels. It’ll cost me, but I need a few hours of peaceful sleep.

7:00am – I check into the Hyatt. Hotels.com listed a room at $160 but they give me a day rate at only $80 which, considering what I was expecting to pay, feels like I’m getting away with larceny.

12:00pm – After 5 hours of sleep, I’m well rested enough to make it through the rest of the day. I want to get out to see the sights but I still need to finish up my blog report for the Twins game on Monday so I schlep back down to Starbucks to post my recap.

2:00pm – Kentucky is one of the states I’ve never been to and Cincinnati is right on the border. Newport lies just on the other side via a series of bridges including the Purple Pedestrian Bridge. A tourist type shopping center, similar to Pier 39, is right on the Ohio River. The main attraction is the Newport Aquarium.

2:15pm – Newport Aquarium. This reminds me, I can’t wait for the new California Academy of Sciences to open up in September. Aside from the planetarium, it wasn’t all that great. The Aquarium especially was outdated. The Newport version is pretty solid. Some highlights: The Monkeyface Prickleback. I went to school with a guy named Monkeyface Prickleback. He was a short fellow with long hair and frequently mumbled. He was known for eating two cafeteria lunches a day, except on alternate Fridays and was completely uncoordinated with the exception of juggling swords.

There’s an eel exhibit. I can’t see an eel without being reminded of the classic scene from The Princess Bride.

The Alligator Snapper is not an alligator, but rather a turtle. It lives up to 150 years and its diet consists of “just about everything.” So much for learning the secret to longevity.

The giant Isopod lives on the ocean floor and has 3,500 eyes which “scientists believe serve no function,” which is carny for “we have no idea what they’re for but we’re scientists so we have to make up a reason.”

There was a cool tank that went over the top of the walkway. Supposedly there were stingrays in the tank but I waited 10 minutes for nothing. Thankfully the next tank produced better results.

Feeding time at the Gintoo Penguin tank. There were no Chin-strap Penguins (or Strap-on Penguins).

3:00pm – I’m going back to Ohio. But unlike the Pretenders song, the city is still there.

3:10pm - I was told Mt. Adams is the closest thing the Midwest has to San Francisco so that’s my next destination, but I’m having the most difficult time figuring out how to cross a maze of highways.

3:30pm – I’ve reached as close to the summit of Mt. Adams as I’m going to get. It’s a decent view but doesn’t beat anything from back home. It’s a nice looking neighborhood. Reminds me a bit of Glen Park.

4:10pm – I think it took me longer to get down the hill than up it. I head back to the yard to visit the Reds Hall of Fame. Unlike other ballparks where the team’s history is contained within the gates, the Reds Hall is a separate building and requires paid admission (except to military and veterans).

4:25pm – I haven’t gotten past the first room when the fire alarm goes off. Everyone in the room gives each other that confused “do we have to leave?” look before lollygagging out of the building. It’s just like a high school fire drill.

4:30pm – It’s only 5 minutes before we’re let back in. The Hall is a really great exhibit. It’s educational, fun, hands on and kid friendly. There are pitching, umpiring and announcing activities for kids, videos, a history of baseball and the game’s oldest pro team and a team hall of fame which includes one noticeable omission, Pete Rose. Despite being mentioned in almost every area of the building, he has no plaque in the Hall.

Expelled for selling beer at a baseball game?!

Marge Schott's chair. I can't believe this wasn't burned in a bonfire when she died. I'm tempted to take it and do just that.

5:10pm – I’m out of the team Hall of Fame. The gates have just opened and I’m one of the first ones in. You can read my game report here.

10:15pm – Just a few more hours until I’m safely on the train back to Chicago. I stop in at the same Starbucks I walked to this morning before I try and navigate my way back to the Cincinnati Museum Center.

11:05pm – Back where I started my day. Just two hours here before I can (attempt) to fall asleep on the train. It’s been a grueling 22 hours (17 if you don’t include the stop at the Hyatt). I’m dreaming of home and my bed. Just 3 more nights until I’m there.

Deathtour~!: Metrodome, Minneapolis

5:45pm – After checking in and getting settled in my hotel room I left for the game, making sure I had my camera, feeling for it every few seconds in my right pocket, as I walked the downtown streets of Minneapolis.

5:52pm – Tickets were available in every section but after Wrigley I needed to save some money. In 11 games I haven’t sat in the bleachers yet so I got a ticket for what is referred to here as the Home Run Porch. There are no bleacher style benches in the Metrodome, just section after section of dark blue single seats. But regardless of type of seat my butt is planted in or what they choose to call it, these are the bleachers.

5:55pm – I decided to walk around the exterior of the dome. Why? I have no idea. It looks identical from all sides.

6:02pm – I finally went in and found my section. Since the field is completely obstructed from the concourse this was my first look at the field and the inside of the dome, which reminds me of those inflatable houses that kids jump around in. I wonder if I can pay to get up there and jump on top of the dome. I’m sure that sounds like more fun than it would be.

6:04pm – The Tigers are still taking batting practice. And, hey, I’m sitting in the bleachers. The sixth row, no less! Maybe I’ll catch something. I should have brought a glove.

6:06pm – Okay. I’m losing every single pop fly in the dome. I can’t see a thing. Every time I see a ball coming towards the bleachers I find myself looking for cover. And I notice a couple of Tigers doing the same in centerfield. Luckily it appears I’m sitting a section or two down from all the action. Sitting more towards left center there aren’t any making out to me.

6:15pm – BP is over so I decide to scour the concourse for some decent food. I haven’t had anything since I was at the airport and I’m unlikely to get a solid meal after the game.

6:21pm – Bingo. Found what I was looking for: a roast beef sandwich. And they make it right in front of you! Throw some barbeque sauce and mayo on it and you’re all set.

6:26pm – Back to my section. My seat is in the sixth row but I decide to hang back in the very last row of the section. I have the entire row to myself and what’s more, there’s no way anything is reaching me up here, so losing a ball in the ceiling won’t be a problem.

6:35pm – Pre-game entertainment. 3 fans try to lob a ball through a hole in a Subway sign hanging between the first and second decks in right field to win a prize. This is followed by a race around the bases by 5 costumed geeks dressed as fish. The race is won by Harvey Killer Fish. Hey, I don’t make the names.

6:50pm – We’ve had three first pitches tossed. How can we have three ceremonial first pitches? By definition only one of them can be first. Am I wrong?

6:58pm – Another perfunctory performance of the anthem by another high school choir. As I’m standing I notice a giant Canadian flag on the far side of the field. The sight of the Maple Leaf brings feelings of giddy anticipation for my eventual trip to Toronto. O Canada is a fantastic song. I should have tried booking a few Toronto road games just to hear it.

7:08pm – The Twins take the field to an atrocious theme song. I’m having flashbacks of the San Diego (Super)Chargers theme. *Shiver*

7:10pm – First pitch and we’re under way.

7:12pm – Edgar Renteria opens the game with pop fly down the line. Denard Span makes a fantastic sliding catch down the line. I’m glad he saw it because I completely lost the ball in the ceiling. I’m glad I’m not a ballplayer. The only other stadium I had this problem at was Dodger Stadium.

7:17pm – Alexi Casilla reaches on what is generously being called a single. A throwing error allows him to take second. There’s no way he would have beaten an accurate throw. A prime example of hometown scorekeeping.

7:20pm – The Twins take an early lead on a single by Justin Morneau.

7:24pm – Placido Polanco makes a leaping catch at second to end the inning and prevent a another run. Still, the Twins are up and I’m beginning to think about my hometown curse.

7:30pm – Marcus Thames ties it up with a bomb to the football seats in right field. The Metrodome has the absolute worst outfield fence in baseball. It’s just a giant tarp stretching from center to right. They don’t even have a yellow line to define what is and isn’t a homerun.

7:56pm – The Tigers make a defensive switch, removing Miguel Cabrera from the game. I’m assuming an injury but they don’t announce those things over the PA. It’s the only thing that’s lost by not watching the game at home. Maybe I should bring a radio to these games.

8:02pm – Galarraga throws a pitch to the backstop followed by a pitch inside which prompts a warning to both teams. For whatever reason, Twins skipper Ron Gardenhire comes running out like a freight train to argue this. I’m guessing its because he isn’t being given a chance to retaliate. I’d use the ‘It’s the only thing that’s lost by not watching the game at home’ line but I already used it. So it’s the second thing lost by not watching the game at home. I hope this doesn’t turn into a recreation of the Spanish Inquisition sketch. Anyway, Gardenhire must really have had better things to do because he got tossed in about 15 seconds and the standing ovation he got coming out to argue quickly turned to boos.

8:10pm - The Twins retake the lead.

8:30pm - Inbetween innings they continue the countdown to the new Twins stadium in 2010. 117 home games remaining over the next season and a half.

8:37pm – Some guys in the bleachers – excuse me, The Home Run Porch – are trying to get The Wave started. And these fans had been great up to this point.

9:02pm – Tigers manager Jim Leland comes out to argue a blooper which looked like a catch in right center that was ruled a trap. It resulted in a double and another run for the Twins. Leland is out there far longer than Gardenhire was but doesn’t join his counterpart in the clubhouse.

9:22pm – Twins bench coach Steve Liddle uses 4 pitchers to get 3 outs in the 7^th inning. Somewhere in St. Louis Tony LaRussa sheds a tear of joy. The Twins get the outs but give up two runs and they look like they’re trying to blow this game. Come on guys, just two more innings.

9:45pm – The bullpen gives up two more in the top of the eigth and the Tigers have the lead. Unbelievable. The home team just can’t win when I’m there. A guess this saves me from watching Joe Nathen close it out. He’s on the cover of the Twins program and reading the article on him was depressing. I don’t need to be reminded of the Giants worst trade in 40 years.

9:52pm – We’re in the bottom of the 8^th in a one run game and the Home Run Porch crowd is attempting another wave. All I can do is shake my head.

10:15pm – Joel Zumaya shuts the doors on the Twins with 2 strikeouts in the bottom of the ninth. The home team record on the deathtour is now 2-10. Everyone files out quickly but I take my time to snap a few pics of the Twins hall of retired numbers. Kent "I'd like to buy a vowel" Hrbek, Harmon "Cardcarrying member of the Skrull" Killebrew (Chris Berman would be proud of that one) and Kirby Puckett.

The Reds are going to need a lot of luck with me in the crowd to break the streak. Next up: 22 Hours In Cincinnati!

Deathtour~!: Wrigley Field, Chicago

Wrigley Field is an experience unlike any other in baseball. Over 90 years old, Wrigley is a living relic among the spate of modern ballparks cropping up around the country. It is the gold standard. It is the park by which all other parks are judged. It is the closest you can come to traversing space and time to watch a game in 1925 without the aid of a Delorian. Only a few modern amenities have been added through the years. Lights were not installed until 1989. There are a few luxury boxes that almost hide between the first and second levels. The out of town scoreboard is still hand operated and there is no big screen scoreboard with flashing lights. There is only a modest digital panel under the centerfield scoreboard that displays the batter’s name and few statistics. Most of the music is played on the stadium organ and the PA announcer comes over on a speaker that doesn’t sound like it’s been replaced since 1914. No park blends together with its neighborhood like Wrigley. The surrounding streets are tethered to the game and the team. Cubs gear line the sidewalks. The Church of the Cubs, firm believers for over 100 years, is a few blocks away. And it takes strong faith to continue to believe in something that’s proven to fail for the last 100 years.

Ernie Banks

This is not my first trip to Wrigley. I’ve been twice before, once as a kid and once a couple summers back. Despite my previous trips, or perhaps because of them, I’m looking forward to this game more than any other on my tour. And this time I’m being joined by two lifelong Cubs fans, my buddies Jon Dye and Brewtown Andy. Jon hadn’t been to Wrigley before this season and Brewtown, who as his nickname suggests, lives in Milwuakee and hadn’t been down in over 10 years. Both jumped at the chance to participate on the Deathtour.

Haray Caray

Jon and I took the CTA to the game from Rosemont, a city built on the last of Al Capone’s money, and whose only attraction is a giant convention center. Jon and I were halfway there when I realized I’d forgotten my camera in the hotel lobby. After I didn’t get pictures in Detroit, Andy had joked that this better not happen in Chicago. I sheepishly called him and asked if he had his camera. He had his iPhone. Crisis averted, and with surprisingly no grief thrown at me.

We met up with Andy by the famed Wrigley sign. Once inside I walked around the concessions which have no view of the field and are completely cut off from the bleacher section. Like most older facilities Wrigley seems cramped and more crowded than a modern park. We’re getting bigger as a country and this is the proof. Before walking up to our seats that I overpaid for by an obscene margin we got in line for food and a drink, in my case mostly for a drink. As used to the temperate climate as I am, I can hardly take this 85 degree weather for long. As it turns out Wrigley sells Pepsi products, not Coke, so no buys. Instead I settled for soft serve ice cream.

We find our seats, right on the aisle. I dig into my quickly melting ice cream. “How’s your soup,” Brewtown quips.

They’re announcing the lineups but I can’t hear a thing.

Game time. I still don’t have a scorecard filled out. Brewtown’s also keeping score. This is good news for me as it will give me a chance to walk around without fear of missing anything.

Orioles go up 5 nothing in the 3^rd. I’m calling the game right here. I also begin to think about the home team’s record in games I’ve been too. It’s not very good.

7-0 now. We’re shocked Pinella kept Marquis in the game. He had two guys ready to go in the ‘pen and kept him in after a double scored the two runs.

The Cubs look pretty terrible. Aside from the second when they had the bases loaded, they haven’t had any runners past first base.

Pinella brings in Scott Eyre, former Giant, in the sixth. He’s the third pitcher for the Cubs. The move strikes me as odd in a game where you want a middle reliever to eat up 2 or three innings and Eyre is a lefty specialist.

And just like that Eyre gets hurt which must royally suck for the Cubs. Another pitching change and they’re going to lose their lefty for a while.

Still top of the 6^th and it’s 11-0. Brewtown decides to head to the Cubs shop to pick up a few things for his kids.

Cubs score 3 in the bottom of the 6^th, so at least the fans have something to cheer about. By now I’m about to fall asleep. The week is catching up to me.

Brewtown gets back and I go for a walk. Hopefully it will wake me up. I think some more soft serve ice cream might help.

Wrigley has a tradition of having a celebrity, usually someone local, sing 'Take me out to the ballgame". It's a tradition that dates back to Haray Caray's era when he would lead the crowd during every game. Today, Yosh Kowano, the Cubs version of the Giants' Mike Murphy, led the crowd. Except that I'm not entirely sure he knows a word of the song, or speaks any english at all.

I’m back for the last two innings of this blowout. Brewtown and Jon have turned on me. I’m taking the blame for this loss apparently. Brewtown has banned me from future Wrigley games. Jon wants to go a step further and strangle me.

Deathtour~!: Jacobs Field, Cleveland

2:30pm - I got in to Cleveland on time after 2 short flights but had to wait forever for my luggage. What’s more it looked like it was beginning to rain on my way in to downtown. With a 4am wake up call the next morning I’m pleading for the weather to hold up for tonight. When I got to my hotel, another Comfort Inn, I was forced to wait in the lobby a few extra minutes while they made sure my room was ready. As I waited around two Giants fans from New York, on a little baseball tour of their own, checked in. It’s always a pleasure to run into Giants fans around the country. After a quick stop and chat I went up to my room.

3:30pm - I take back every negative thought I had about Comfort Inn. What a fine establishment this company is. After suffering through last night they’ve put in a virtual penthouse. I’m heartbroken that I’m only here for one night. A full Jacuzzi and two bedrooms~! What use do I, a single person, have with two rooms? I don’t know, but I’m going to do my best to take full advantage of both of them.

5:45pm – It’s just a quick walk over to Progressive “We Still Call It the Jake” Field. And the weather looks like it’s going to hold. This series with the Giants marks the return to Cleveland for future Hall of Famer Omar Vizqual, several years removed from an Indians jersey yet still enormously popular here. About one in every five jerseys donned by the fans bares his name. A few Tribe fans even have Vizqual’s current jersey which, as a fan, doesn’t seem right to me. I’ll have to consult the Sports Fandom Rulebook to see if that’s allowed.

6:00pm – I have my ticket and I’m through the gate. Just inside are today’s lineup cards posted on the wall, handwritten on a giant scorecard. Brilliant. Every stadium should have this. First on the agenda is locating my seat. First level, thirteenth row, and right next to the left field foul pole. I can practically touch the field from here.

6:12pm – One rotation around and I haven’t seen much of interest. There’s got to be something here, I’m just missing it.

6:19pm – Found it! Heritage Park, behind center field, is the center for all Indians history. A bit out the way, even after I saw the sign for it, it took me a few minutes to figure out how to get there. The team has their own Hall of Fame in a beautifully designed brick courtyard with plaques dedicated to each Indian great. Between the fan purchased bricks are great moments in Indian history. To my delight, Omar has a moment to his credit, and to my surprise, it’s not for his numerous gold gloves.

6:23 - Ray Chapman has a dedication in the Indians Hall. Chapman was a big leaguer in the 1910s. In 1920 he was killed when he was hit by a pitch.

6:29pm – A short flight of stairs away from the Hall is a commemoration of the 100 greatest Indian players over the last 100 years. As expected, Omar’s name is right there. I scan further until another name, one that is completely unexpected, catches my drifting eyes. Duane Kuiper. As I’m laughing with glee on the inside at something that I’m sure amuses only myself, a father standing next to me tells his young kid, “That’s the guy who hit the foul ball I caught when I was twelve.” Nothing illustrates the power of baseball more than moments like this. A kid catches a ball and twenty years later he’s teaching his own kid about a player most fans (outside of Cleveland and San Francisco) don’t even remember. And with that a bit of baseball history is passed down to the next generation.

6:37pm – I go back to my seat, but not before grabbing a hot dog and smothering it with the stadium’s own brand of mustard. I’ve scoured the stadium but nowhere can I find this brand for sale. It must be around in local supermarkets but I don’t have the time to investigate.

6:40pm – Across the field Omar is signing for fans. I’m tempted to join them. I don’t, and I know I’m going to regret that.

6:50pm – Omar’s just wrapping up. He must have signed close to 500 signatures. I hope his wrist is okay for the game.

6:58pm – We have some high school choir out to sing the anthem and if you’ve ever heard a high school choir before you can imagine what this sounded like.

7:15pm – My boys jump out to a quick 2-0 lead. With Zito on the mound we’re going to need every run we can get.

7:20pm – Zito strikes out the first two batters as part of a 1-2-3 inning in the opening frame. Consider me slightly amazed.

7:30pm – Visqual comes up for the first time to a standing ovation. I love watching Omar every day and I couldn’t be happier to have him on the Giants, but after seeing this I know that when he goes to Cooperstown he won’t be wearing the interlocking SF.

7:46pm – “The Anchor” Bengie Molina gets thrown out at second. I know he’s slow, but geez…

7:52pm – Zito’s breezed through the Indians lineup with 3 Ks and only 1 hit allowed.

8:23pm – We’re in the middle of the fifth which means this game is official. Clevelan is the 10^th park I’ve attended which is a 1/3 of the way through. I’m sure that seems more impressive to me than it really is.

8:30pm – Rowand makes a highlight reel catch in center (I refuse to call it a web gem). That out brings Zito’s ERA for the season under 6.00. Let’s see if it stays that way.

8:34pm – End of 5 and we have a hot dog race between people dressed as condiments. Does everyone get their own race now? Is that the new ‘It’ thing? Anyway, one of the condiments (don’t ask which) wins when the other two ‘trip’ over each other. Another worked race. Are any of these legit? Brewtown Andy swears the sausage race in Milwaukee is on the level. We’ll see.

8:48pm – Who’s this guy pitching for the Giants and what has he done with Barry Zito? Through 6 innings the Indians have zero runs and only three hits. This has to be Barry’s best performance as a Giant. It’s certainly in the top 3. The pitch count is going to get him soon though.

9:08pm – Zito gives up a double after getting the first two batters in the 7^th. I hate when Bochy takes out his starters mid-inning after just one hit. Nothing positive ever happens. Yabu is coming in.

9:12pm – Yabu is going out. He faced one batter and gave up one hit and one run (which is charged to Zito after he pitched wonderfully). Brilliant move Boch. I’m of the firm belief that if inherited runners score, they should be charged to the guy who gave up the hit. Let’s hope the rest of the bullpen doesn’t blow it.

9:25pm – We got out of it. Not only that but Bowker got the run back with a blast in the eighth. And almost on cue it’s beginning to rain. A few start to leave. I head for cover to protect the scorecard.

9:32pm – Here’s something you don’t see every day. According to American League rules, if the DH is substituted into the field the pitcher must hit. In a move that completely baffles me, Bochy takes Bowker out at first base and move Aurilia from DH to first. This means that the pitcher is now in the Giants line up in the eighth spot. I’m so caught off guard that I look around to see if anyone else is scratching their head.

9:45pm - Now that's how you stay dry. Right above me is the terrace club, reserved for the uber wealthy.

10:00pm – Brian Wilson comes in to save it. Sadly we never got to see the pitcher hit but a win is a win. By now the rain is coming down pretty heavy. It’s going to be a short night of sleep before catching an early flight for a day game at Wrigley on Thursday.

Deathtour~!: Comerica Park, Detroit (Now with 100% less pictures)

Despite assurances that Detroit was a wretched hive of scum and villainy, I was not shot, stabbed, beaten, mugged, assaulted, accosted, jostled, burned or dismembered. In fact, I suffered no flesh wounds of any kind, although that is not to say I will reflect on my short stay in Detroit with fondness. I’m not going to go into the details but let’s just say that I will avoid Comfort Inn on future trips.

My time here also suffered from the death of my camera’s battery. I was particularly upset about this since this isn’t the first time it’s happened at a game and I should be more prepared for this. I’d actually checked the battery in the hotel room and it seemed okay so I didn’t bother to recharge it. As soon as I turned it on to take that first picture, nothing. No picture. So, new policy. That thing gets recharged every two days. I a guarantee I’ll be taking plenty of pictures of the Giants game in Cleveland on Wednesday to make up for it.

It’s unfortunate that I don’t have photographs of Comerica Park, the Tigers home field. It’s a visually spectacular facility with a plethora of historical treasures, memorabilia, attractions and a panoramic view of the downtown area. And it’s a popular destination for a week night. This opening game against the Cardinals drew the 3^rd largest crowd in the 9 year history of the ballpark. And boy was it a large crowd, both in volume and girth. By my completely unscientific estimation, Detroit fans are the second heaviest group of fans behind St. Louis (and I know Shane is attempting to single-handedly lower the Cardinals fan weight average). How fitting that those two teams were playing tonight.

I arrived an hour before game time and it was already packed. I had to squeeze my way past the Tiger faithful in their 1968 replica road unis, which took some time. Comerica pays tribute to Tiger history beginning with a series of pillars on the lower level promenade, each dedicated to a particular decade. Tiger greats like Ty Cobb and Mickey Cocherane are spotlighted in pictures and with their equipment on display. Statues line the left-field bleachers, each representing the players who have been bestowed the honor of having their number retired.

The name, Comerica Park, conjures up the image of an amusement park, and, in fact, houses an attraction you’d likely find at such a place. Comerica Park is the only baseball stadium to hold a carousal, fittingly with nothing but Tigers. The centerfield hitters backdrop is lined with ivy and topped with a fountain that you can walk under. Despite being constructed in the era of luxury and club level seating, Comerica has only 2 decks with a small luxury level in-between and the upper level seating is very family friendly in economic terms.

I took my seat shortly before game time, still bummed about not having my camera and I didn’t take any notes during the game. After last night’s 2:12 minute affair, this game seemed like a marathon session. Kenny Rogers took about a minute just to throw the first pitch. The game plodded along for over three hours from there. The crowd was surprisingly subdued for such a large crowd, only coming alive for a couple of early home runs, of which one was highly controversial, sparking an argument between Cardinals manager Tony LaRussa and the unpires. Disappointingly for Tiger fans, he was not tossed. Once the Cardinals took over in the middle stages of the game, it was a slow migration towards the exits with many departing after the Redbirds scored 3 in the 7^th to make it an 8-2 game. Detroit scored 2 in the bottom of the inning and had runners on in the ninth but never caught up.

After the game I quickly made my way back to the hotel to prepare for an early wakeup call. Next it’s on to Cleveland. Go Gigantes!