Deathtour~!: Yankee Stadium, New York

After the night game in Baltimore it was an early wake up call to catch Amtrak up to New York for the afternoon Yankee game in the Bronx. I rode up and checked into my hotel, a dive right in the middle of Times Square, without any delays, and after taking a few minutes to figure out New York’s subway system, rode out to the Bronx for my first and last taste of The House That Ruth Built.

If Wrigley is a 1930s baseball experience, Yankee Stadium is the 1970s baseball experience. Hard seats with no cup holders, an old electronic scoreboard, a run down PA system, and a cramped concession area gives you the sensation of standing in an antique. These are more than a few of the reasons they’re replacing this stadium with a more modern yet almost identical looking facility, even down to the boring prison-like exterior.

New York is still pretty paranoid. They asked to see my cell phone. It doesn’t look like anybody is allowed to bring in backpacks and they’ve also banned sunscreen, which is just indefensible. After getting through the gate I slowly make my way behind home plate. It doesn’t look as though they are checking tickets so I sneak a peek at the lower level. Batting practice is just about to wrap up.

It’s 30 minutes before game time and I need something to eat. I’ll I’ve had today is iced coffee at Penn Station in Baltimore. There’s a nice café area behind home. Beer is $9. That’s outrageous but it’s a sporting event. You could price beer at $20 and it would sell.

I’m all the way up in the upper deck in right field. Not too bad, but I can’t see the right field foul line and I can barely read the right field scoreboard at this angle. Flipping through the Yankees’ program, there’s a story on Jose Molina. I’ve lost track of how many Molina brothers are catching in the big leagues. At some point I think all 30 teams will have one.

The anthem is played over the PA system after the Yankees partially take the field. The bleacher roll call goes out. Nice. I'm not sure if you can make it out in the picture, but there's a metal fence above the left part of the Modell sign. A guy next to me was saying that it was recently put up after A-Rod hit a home run off the yellow above the sign that was ruled in play by the umpire. The fence is designed so that when a ball hits it, it will make a different noise.

Monument Park is out in left field in front of the visiting bullpen. It doesn’t look like you can walk through it during the game. I would have liked to see DiMaggio and Berra’s plaques.

Mussina’s on a roll today. Every strikeout brings a chorus of ‘Mooooooooose’ from the crowd.

The Yanks finally wake up in fifth and score twice.

Alexi Castilla lines a double past the diving Richie Sexton at first. Sexton is 10 feet tall and that’s second time he’s come up short diving to prevent a ball from going into the outfield. He has the range of a sloth.

The grounds crew comes out and performs YMCA. The Seattle crew's Thriller dance was better.

Mussina has a shutout through 8 innings and a five run lead but he’s hit the magical 100 pitch count which in 2008 means you’re out of the game.

LaTroy Hawkins, former Giant for a brief period, comes in and does his job by giving up a run and three hits creating a save situation for Rivera. So now I can say I saw future Hall of Famer Mariano Rivera save a game at Yankee stadium.

Rivera strikes out the only batter he saw, Jason Kubel, to end the game. "Yankees win! The Yankees win!"

Deathtour~!: Camden Yards, Baltimore

Perhaps even more ambitious and stressful than traveling to 8 games in 7 cities over a 12 day period (not including the 13^th day for travel) which I just completed two weeks ago, is covering 7games in 1 week in 6 cities. That’s a game a day without interruption journeying to a new city every day except for the two days I’ll be spending in New York. It’s exhausting. And I’m just watching the games. I can’t imagine the additional toll having to play through all this travel must be like. It must be worse for circus performers, although that’s neither here nor there.

I never make things easy for myself, or so it seems, and my Northeast trip begins with a long day of travel from early morning to evening, followed by a game at Camden Yards at night. I’m scheduled to take off from San Francisco at 7:25am and land in Baltimore at 5:25pm, giving me a scant 90 minutes to make it to downtown Baltimore, check in to my room and head to the game. I managed to coerce a friend into driving me to SFO at 5:30 in the morning so I don’t have to worry about lugging my bags from home to Muni to BART at God-awful early in the morning.

I have a layover in Phoenix. I don’t have to change planes but we’re told that there’s a hold on all Northeast flights due to thunderstorms. Uh-oh. A woman near me just hopes to make it to Baltimore in time for the game. Me too. I wonder if we’re thinking about the same game. I strike up a conversation with her about baseball. Turns out she’s on a baseball group tour. Coincidentally we’ll be at Camden and Yankee Stadium on the same days. She’s also going to Cooperstown. I’m jealous. And she works at Pac Bell Park, but not near my section (121). I’m really jealous.

I got to Camden at the middle of the first. It’s the first time I’ve missed the first pitch all season. I had 40 minutes to get from the airport to the hotel to the game. It just wasn’t going to happen. On the upside I missed the anthem. On the downside I missed the Canadian anthem. I also lost my Panthers hat. I was in such a rush to get to the game that I forgot I’d removed it from my head in the taxi I took from the airport to the hotel. I should also note that I nearly forgot my Passport at home this morning, remembering to grab it at the very last second as I conducted a mental check of everything I had as I was locking the front door. I also haven’t eaten anything. But the game will turn the day around.

Camden Yards is a sweet looking field. It’s the park that started the flood of new ballparks and the influence it had is visible just about everywhere. It has the brick finish of Pac Bell and New Busch. The Centerfield scoreboard reminds me of Comerica in Detroit, the bullpen in Anaheim. San Diego does the warehouse behind right field one better by using it to determine the dimensions of the field.

Out front is a statue of baseball’s most legendary figure, Babe Ruth, possibly the most famous person ever born in Baltimore. The Orioles gallery of retired numbers is also outside the main gate, which are, in fact, actual numbers with a plaque naming the player the number was retired for.

At some point Cal has to get a statue here, right? Unless he already has one at an entrance I didn’t pass.

It’s a thin crowd. Looks to be about 14,000. I bought an upper deck ticket in left field out of the sun. What’s nice about a small crowd is you can move around wherever you want almost. At least in the upper level where there are entire sections with just a few people. Just for kicks I’m going to move to a new seat every few innings.

An ad runs on the scoreboard for the Virgin Music Festival with such acts as Nine Inch Nails, Stone Temple Pilots and the Foo Fighters. Is it 1996 again? I’m pretty sure turn back the clock night is tomorrow here.

I start to move around in the middle of the third. A short trip down the stairs puts me right behind the bullpen. They have it roped off so you can’t walk right up to it. This was as close as I could get. I managed to snap this right as Brian Tallet was looking at me.

After three innings it’s 4-0 Orioles. The home team is winning! Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about the curse. For some reason this has the feeling of a really long game. I hope not. I have a 5:30 wake up call for my train to New York in the morning.

Top of the fifth and it’s time to move around again. I still haven’t eaten anything. I pass up a Crabcake sandwich in favor of a burger and fries (huge mistake, I know). It took forever and by the time I took my new seat in right field it was STILL the top of the fifth and the Orioles were making a pitching change. The score: Toronto 5, Baltimore 4.

I’m sitting in a section all by myself. I’ve always wanted to do this. The Orioles come right back in the bottom of the fifth to take a 7-6 lead. Both starting pitchers are out of the game.

They showed a blooper reel which is mandatory at every game now. It’s only worth mentioning here because half the clips were of the Giants, which, given how bad they’ve been doesn’t sound surprising, except that these clips were of the Giants’ Ball Dudes^TM.

Apparently this section is closed. I guess that explains why no one was sitting here. I’ve been asked to move to the next section over which is literally 15 feet to my left. It seems rather pointless and silly but that’s what I do.

After a single and a walk the Orioles make another pitching change. Alberto Castillo immediately gives up a three run homerun and relinquishes the lead to Toronto. But he won’t be credited with a loss if this score holds up. That unfortunate blemish goes to his predecessor, Francisco Cabrera, who gave up the walk. This scoring rule has always seemed completely illogical to me. If you give up the winning hit, shouldn’t you get the loss? Cabrera gets credit for holding the lead while he was in but loses the game because the next guy couldn’t get the job done. Makes no sense.

The PA guy says that Orioles fans are the best fans in baseball, but he’s lying because the wave has started, which is an automatic disqualification in the “best fans” category. Also, a USA chant. I don’t know who that’s directed at. I’m pretty sure most of the Blue Jays players are Americans.

The Orioles score a run and load the bases in the ninth but fall short. BJ Ryan earns a ‘save’ for his ‘effort’ and once again the road team prevails. At this point I’m expecting to be shot by a deranged Yankee fan from the board before tomorrow’s game.

Deathtour~!: Miller Park, Milwaukee

Is there a better way to celebrate the 4^th of July than tailgating at a baseball game and enjoying America’s pastime? I submit that there is not. And so that’s what a I did, along with Jon (here for his third appearance on the tour), Brewtown Andy (making a second cameo) Jim and Jess (their first and only game on the tour). These fantastic four comprise the largest group I’ve had at a game with me and given the occasion tailgating seemed like the perfect idea and I have Andy to thank for that. When I first proposed the idea of the deathtour, Milwaukee was one of the places I was most excited to watch a game at. Not because I care for the team but because I’d been wanting to get up there to see Jim and Andy (and the sausage race which I’ll get to later). As it turns out Andy must have been equally excited. He offered to pay for my ticket if I tried to eat for the cycle. I’d been determined to pay for anyone who came to a game with me but he offered and eating for the cycle was a challenge I couldn’t pass up.

For the uninitiated, eating for the cycle is similar to hitting for the cycle in baseball. The baseball cycle includes a single, double, triple and home run. Eating for the cycle includes a hot dog, Polish sausage, Italian sausage and Bratwurst. We set up in the parking lot at 11:30, two hours before game time, giving me plenty of time finish all 4. Pacing is very important for this so any extra time is always welcomed. I started off with a hot dog a little while later devoured an Italian Sausage enjoying the games of catch and carnival atmosphere between bites.

We went through the gates shortly before game time, passing Hank Aaron’s statue just outside the main gate. Aaron played only 1 season with the Brewers, his last, but he did spend the bulk of his career playing in Milwaukee, for the Braves. Like many other cities that have had teams come and go, Milwaukee celebrates the history of all those franchises, not just its current one. Aaron’s statue fittingly bears the Braves logo. Opposite Aaron is a second statue, this one for Brewers Hall of Famer Robin Yount, which we passed on our way out.

We’ve got great seats for this game on the third base side, even better than my usual spot back home. And what’s more, Brewtown paid less for these than I paid for our Nose bleed seats at Wrigley last week. I suppose that’s the advantage of small town baseball. It’s also 1000 degrees down here. The shade is all on the first base side of the stands but it’s slowly creeping towards us.

Ben Sheets, the Brewers ace, is pitching today. The streak is in jeopardy.

The Pirates threaten with runners at the corners in the first. Sheets tries the third to first pickoff. Never has this been more of a failure. Jason Michaels, taking his lead from third, didn’t so much as flinch towards third. I’ve never seen this move work. Ever. And I don’t know anyone who’s seen it work either. And if ever anyone tells you they’ve seen it work, they’re lying.

Bill Hall blasts a two run homer in the bottom of the second giving the Brew Crew the lead. Bernie Brewer, Milwaukee’s mascot, takes a ride on his slide. If the Brewers don’t homer in a game does he just stand up there from beginning to end?

It’s still unbearably hot. And my giant lemonade isn’t helping. I seek the shade in the concessions and wander around. It’s time for number three on the food cycle. I don’t think my stomach is going to hold up and given the choice between a Brat and a Polish Sausage, I’m taking the Brat. I can’t come here and say I didn’t have a Brat.

The Brewers score 5 in the 5^th, blowing the game wide open. Andy and Jon are giving me dirty looks. Hey, I can’t be counted on to curse the home team 100% of the time. They disagree. I think they’re forming a committee to determine what went wrong here today.

It’s been determined that Andy paying for my ticket is the cause of the curse being broken. Good work team.

After six it’s Brewers 9, Pirates 1. More importantly it’s time for the main event of the trip. After 8 games in 12 days I finally get to watch what I really took this trip for; a 30 second race between 5 people dressed as sausages. And I’ve been told this is absolutely legit. The race is contested between a Bratwurst, an Italian Sausage, a Polish Sausage, a Hot Dog and a Chorizo, which sounds like a made up name to me. It goes without saying that I’m pulling for the Italian.

Aaaand they’re off. The Chorizo, Polish Sausage and Brat pull out in front mixing it up for positioning. Hot Dog and the Italian are lagging behind. They’ve turned the corner at home plate. It’s a three sausage race now. The Chorizo pulls ahead. He’s going to win.

The Italian and Hot Dog are about 15 links behind. The Italian Sausage trips. How embarrassing. Not so much for him but because he was my pick to win.

It’s the 4^th so I have to endure God Bless America before we get to Take Me Out to the Ballgame and Roll Out the Barrel.

The game ends 9-1. We were about 30 minutes away from shade. I just hope I’m not as burned as I was in LA.

It’s the last day on this leg of the tour and we’ve got a whole gang here, so why not a group shot?!

As we were taking the group picture, guess who came running down to our section? I don’t know why I marked out like I did.

It's over already? Where did the day go?

Deathtour~!: New(ish) Comiskey Park, Chicago

A week after baking in the blistering heat of Wrigley, it’s time to hop on the red line and head south to New(ish) Comiskey Park, now called US Cellular Field, and finish off the Windy City for the season. Joining me once again is Jon Dye who was kind enough to let me keep my stuff with him while I took a detour to Cincinnati yesterday. I’ve spent this entire trip in shorts. It’s been that hot. If you added up the number of days I’ve worn shorts in the past 5 years I don’t think it would be more than the number of days I’ve worn shorts in the past 2 weeks. Tonight it’s cooled down but not enough to make me change back to my familiar jeans or grab my sweatshirt. I hope I don’t regret this.

We arrived on the South Side 30 minutes before the first pitch amongst an enthusiastic crowd. The Sox are the less beloved yet more successful franchise of Chicago. They lack the national fan base that the Cubs enjoy and they’re not the media darlings the north-siders are either, but at least they can claim a few World Series crowns in the past 100 years.

The cheapest seats are $21 in the upper deck. That seems a bit steep after visiting Cincinnati where my upper deck seats were only $14 and bleacher seats were $7! So my wallet is $42 lighter when we pass though the gate. Before we head up I want to take a look around at field level but I’m halted by this…

…seriously?! Segregation in 2008! I guess they don’t want us poor schmucks intermingling with the elite of the South Side. More reason to hate Jerry Reinsdorf.

Okay, the game hasn’t started and I’m already regretting sticking with the shorts. To make matters worse the concession we went to was out of hot chocolate. I settled for pizza which was comparable to a decent microwavable pizza.

The only benefit to having upper deck seats tonight is getting to sit where ever we want within the top level seats. After finding some prime seats in the front row of the right field corner and filling out my scorecard I go on a search for another concession stand with hot chocolate. I find one near by. I have a feeling I’ll be coming back for seconds, thirds, fourths and fifths before the game ends.

We’ve got a great view of the outfield promenade from our seats. Looks like a lot of fun down there…

Sox starter Javier Vasquez strikes out the side in the top of the first and the offense scores twice in the bottom half on a home run and 2 doubles. Jon’s unhappy with me since supposedly I’m not doing my job of bringing the home team bad luck. I remind him it’s only the first inning, the A’s have plenty of time to come back.

Vasquez strikes out the side again in the third! He has 7 Ks through three. He’s single-handedly trying to break the curse. As a reminder the home team is 0-6 on this road trip and 2-11 overall.

It looks plenty warmer out there.

At the beginning of the forth inning I decide to walk around the stadium, at least the parts that I can. The concession area is a bit warmer and I need a refill on my drink. Anything to get away from my cold, hard seat. When I get back, the A’s have tied the game up after a hit-batsman and a homerun.

I take another timeout to walk around. I’m absolutely freezing up here, to the point that I’m considering buying a White Sox jacket or sweatshirt. I think better of it after stepping into the team shop and taking a look at the prices. Given the choice between paying $100 for a coat and freezing I’m choosing freezing.

I get back to my seat and it’s 3-2 A’s. Jon (a noted Cubs fan) is happy and I’ve missed every run for the visiting team so far. If the key to the A’s success is that I have to leave my seat, that’s fine with me.

I can’t take this wind anymore. We decide to head to the opposite side of the stadium where the wind will be at our backs. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner.

This has been a fantastic pitching duel so far. After 7 the A’s have 3 runs on only 4 hits. The White Sox have 2 runs on 5 hits. Both Duchscherer for the A’s and Vasquez for the Sox could go the distance. The A’s need insurance runs so I take a powder to the concessions.

About the only interesting feature of the upper level is a photo mural of the White Sox history from the beginning of the previous century to the present day. The Sox have the bizarre distinction of donning my favorite and least favorite classic jerseys. The 1919 “Black Sox” team has my favorite look in baseball. The colors, the logo, the way in which they wore them – it’s a flawless look. Conversely the mid 80s unis are the worst I’ve ever seen. The 80s had a lot of really awful looking uniforms but this is the worst. It’s even worse than the candy corn Astros shirts.

The Classic 1919 team.

The worst uniform in baseball.

The modern look.

At least they’ve gone back to a more classic look with the 30s style emblem and home white with black pinstripes. You can’t go wrong with that. They should never change this look (unless they plan on going back to that 1919 team jersey).

Vasquez puts the A’s down in the ninth. Unless Chicago scores in the bottom of the ninth he’s in the hook for a complete game loss.

Huston Street gives up a single but strikes out the next two batters to end the game. That makes 7 straight for the road team. The odds of watching 7 straight road wins is staggeringly low. It’s like flipping a coin 7 times and having it come up tails every time. It’s an impossible improbability. There’s no way Pittsburgh makes it a complete sweep tomorrow in Milwaukee, is there?

Deathtour~!: Great American Ballpark, Cincinnati

5:10pm – The gates to Great American Ballpark open and I’m the first one through the turnstile. I’m like Charlie in Wonka’s factory. I’ve got the whole place to myself (almost). And batting practice has just started.

5:20pm – I’ve got front row seats!...in the upper deck. I’ve never had the pleasure of sitting in the front front row but I justify it by choosing to believe the view is better from up here. I take a look around and I’m completely alone. I’ve got the entire top level to myself. At least for the next 30 minutes or so.

5:25pm – This Reds team has a few things in common with the Giants. Both are teams with a wealth of history behind them. Both built fabulous new parks on a waterfront. And both feature bad teams led by one of the best players of their generation. In this case, their future Hall of Famer is still playing and continues to achieve milestone after milestone. Centerfield features a Ken Griffey home run counter, stuck on 603, six four-baggers away from Sammy Sosa.

5:27pm – Just to the left of the Griffey counter is the centerfield hitter’s eye which incorporates Cincinnati’s steamboats into the design. Neat!

5:32pm – As I’m sitting alone in the second deck watching BP a thought occurs. Why aren’t I sitting in the bleachers for this?!

5:40pm – Much better. The right field bleachers are separated into two decks. The second level is the only one that features actual bleacher style seating. I position myself a few feet from the left field foul pole. Again, I find myself alone. Everyone else has chosen to shag home runs in the lower level of the outfield seats. If anything comes up here I can just walk to pick up the ball.

5:45pm – This close! *holds up fingers* One of the Pirate hitters smacked a ball that hit the front row of the bleachers 15 feet to my left. It clanged off the bench and ricocheted back down to the first level before I could get there. In all likelihood that is the closest I’ll come to catching a ball on the tour. But you never know…

6:00pm – Nothing else comes close to reaching the bleachers for the remainder of batting practice and I continue my walk around Great American Ballpark. By know my shoulders are feeling fatigued from lugging my backpack around all day. It’s hot and I’m thirsty, but not so much hungry despite not having a meal all day. Strange, considering my level of activity for the day.

6:05pm – A root beer float at a baseball game?! Awesome. Additionally I pick up a sausage on my way back to my seat.

6:15pm – The wait continues for game time. The grounds crew prepares the field and a few others have joined in the upper deck. It’s still an hour from game time but it’s looking like we’re going to have a small crowd tonight.

6:25pm – Waaaay to much Lenny Kravitz being played right now.

6:35pm – Cheerleaders in baseball?! There’s no cheerleaders in baseball! I’m so upset about this I couldn’t even be bothered to get pictures of them.

6:54pm – “They’ll come, Ray. They’ll come to Iowa for reasons they can’t even fathom.” 20 minutes from game time and they play one of the greatest scenes from Field of Dreams, James Earl Jones’ monologue as the old ballplayers stand behind him. That scene gives me chills and I need to watch the whole film when I get back home.

7:10pm – And on the first pitch of the game Nate McLouth lines a double down the right field line.

7:16pm – 6 minutes in and we’ve got our first visit to the mound. It’s 2-0 with no outs in the top of the first.

7:20pm – Bases loaded now and still nobody out. There’s bullpen activity. Reds’ starter Daryl Thompson may not last an inning, or an out for that matter.

7:29pm – Somehow Thompson survived but it’s 4-0 Pirates before the Reds even come up. Do I need to mention that the visiting team is unbeaten on this road trip?

7:30pm – Who designs a scorecard with no place to put the inning totals?!

7:54pm – Neither pitcher wants to win this game. VanBenschoten, Pittsburgh’s starter, gives up 4 in the second and Cincy takes a 5-4 lead. Could they break the streak?

8:03pm – And the Pirates tie it right back up in the third. This has the feeling of a game determined by whose bullpen holds up.

8:09pm – Griffey flies out for the second time. I have not rooting interest in the game but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t rooting for Griffey to knock one into the right field seats.

8:12pm – Brandon Philips hits a one out double and we have our first pitching change. Van Benschoten’s line: 2.1 innings, 5 hits, 5 runs, 45 pitches. I’m sure Thompson won’t last much longer too.

8:40pm – Thompson and the game look to have settled down. After that rough first inning Thompson’s only giving up one hit, a homer by Xavier Nady. This is one of the quietest crowds I’ve been a part of.

8:42pm – Of course, just as I write that Doumit singles and Nady hits a second home run. There’s activity in the bullpen and I get the feeling we’re about to experience Dusty’s patented slowest pitching change in baseball.

8:45pm – Sure enough, Paul Bako walks out to the mound to chat with his pitcher. He spends the entire time looking at the dugout. Finally, after he’s asked Thompson what his plans are after the game, he walks back to the plate. He’s almost back in his crouch when Baker makes a move out of the dugout. Thompson’s line: 4.1 innings, 8 hits, 7 runs, 90 pitches. A very Barry Zitoesque performance.

8:55pm – Griffey raises his paltry .238 batting average with a single in the fifth. With all the injuries he’s suffered he’s become a shell of his hall of fame self. I’m thinking he hangs it up after this season. You’ve had a great career Ken, you have nothing left to prove.

8:58pm – Wow, this crowd is dead. They gave almost no response to the “Make Some Noise” prompt on the big screen.

9:15pm – Both ‘pens have performed well. Pittsburgh’s in line to make it 6-0 for the road teams.

9:28pm – Top of the seventh and we’ve got a second Dusty switch. I don’t know why he does it. Majewski’s completely warmed up in the bullpen.

10:00pm – Griffey, Philips and Dunn go quietly in the bottom of the eighth. The small crowd gets even smaller and a few idiots two sections to my right try to get a wave going. Thankfully, they are unsuccessful

10:02pm – I spoke to soon. The entire stadium is doing the wave. Can’t we ban this already? I’m writing my congressman when I get home.

10:14pm – Tyler Yates closes it in the bottom of the ninth. The road team is now 6-0. I have a feeling the White Sox have no shot tomorrow night, no matter how hard they try. Just a few hours left in Cincinnati before I take the train back to Chicago.