Seriously??
Archive for August, 2008
Becoming part of the Brew Crew
Saturday night (post Field of Dreams euphoria) we headed to Milwaukee for a Brewers game. I had been looking forward to this park the most and it didn’t disappoint. Tickets were sold out for the Saturday night game (as it should be) and right when we pulled into the parking lot you could feel the baseball vibe. It could have been the wonderful smell of the charcoal grills going that set the tone but immediately on entry, the atmosphere was set. These fans know how to watch a game. They are all in their colors and rooting and cheering…it was as baseball on a Saturday should be.
And of course, they had the Miller Park Sausages running around before the game. Check this out for the start of a Saturday night show?
And while we found tickets outside the stadium that weren’t being used, they were in the last row of the loge section and were covered so you couldn’t see the outfield jumbotron which seriously bummed me out. I would have to give Miller Park a high 8. The atmosphere is really what sets the tone for me. The only thing keeping it from a 9 is that obstructed view in the loge level where our tickets were. Luckily, we swooped in on some seats that were unoccupied. These seats were on the same level but in the first row and ended up being probably the best seats of the entire trip. I was on the first base side of homeplate but even with the dish, in line with the 3B line. And how’s this for a view from our newly acquired seats? Remind me to thank the people in Section 217, Row 1 Seats 1-4 for not coming.
Can you say phenomenal??
And of course, the traditional racing of the sausages in the middle of the 6th inning:
Polish Sausage won, btw.
So Milwaukee was my top yard choice for this trip, followed by St. Louis and Cincinnati. Detroit wasn’t bad but I didn’t get that atmosphere feeling that I got from the others. That was partially my fault for sitting with the fancy people and eating really well.
Cleveland just didn’t do it for me and KC gets the INC. All and all, a very awesome trip but I’m totally kicking myself for the 5:35am flight home to Cali. I think this must be what death feels like. I woke up at 3:45am in order to get my gear together and make it to the airport. This comes after the red eye to kick off the trip and my impromptu trip to NoLa on Thursday, which also came complete with early-ass flights on Thursday and Friday mornings. I’m racking up Continental miles like crazy. And I’m a regular at the Houston airport. And of course, post-KC game, we had to book it toward Milwaukee and the Field of Dreams so I didn’t get a ton of sleep Friday night either. I think my body has started to revolt. I have a headache and stomachache and just want my own CL-sized bed with sandbags for pillows.
If anyone calls me tonight past 8pm, it had better because someone needs a kidney or something because I will be studying the insides of my eyelids early, recouping from a killer baseball roadtrip.
They built it, I came
Saturday morning was quite possibly the highlight of the trip and one of the most fun days of my life. I played in a pick up ballgame at the Field of Dreams movie site in Dyersville, Iowa. On the same freakin’ field where they filmed the movie. It was absolutely incredible—damn near a religious experience.
We arrived around 11am and I was already in awe upon pulling up. After doing a quick look around, we grabbed our gloves and played catch in the outside. I caught fly balls in the outfield of the Field of Dreams diamond. Are you kidding me? I can totally cross that one off my list of things to do before I die. The one thing that was immediately apparent was how much I suck now. It’s pretty much the most horrifying thing ever. I can’t even throw well anymore! When I first picked up the ball, I threw like a girl. A girl?!?! I could barely even hit ‘em in the chest. Ugh, simply disgusting. The good news is that I can still catch a fly ball or two.
There was, however, a little incident in which I accidentally smooshed the corn stalks. Like pretty much ripped it out of the ground when I fell going deep for a fly ball over my head (pretty much I ran into the wall with zero regard for my own personal safety—ha!) Check out these sequential shots. Awesome. Simply awesome.
Watching as the ball begins to sail over my head, into the corn
Falling into the corn, not making the catch, with a look of terror on my face
And this would be where I killed the corn
Then the magic happened. We just started a pick up game. I don’t even know how it happened really. Someone wanted to hit, so we all started shagging and before you know it, we’re playing. Incredible. It was the most awesome thing ever. Little boys and men and even another woman at one point (and thank goodness she didn’t throw like a girl!) As a side note, I was on deck when she was hitting and her son, about 5 or 6 years old, was standing next to me watching her hit (and hit well). I looked at the boy and said “geez, you’re mom sure is good!” He turned and looked me and said solemnly, “I know. She played t-ball.”
It might have been the best answer ever.
I played outfield and luckily for everyone on the team, nothing was hit my way.
The good news about my performance having tanked in the years since I played was that I can still hit (kinda).
I don't care how into the movie I am, I'm not choking on a hot dog without seeing Doc Graham present beforehand. PS- those are my teammates next to me.
Then of course are the traditional pictures that had to be taken because they were part of the movie scenes.
It was an absolutely incredible day. A pick-up game at the Field of Dreams. I can’t even put it into words. It felt so incredible to run around on the field and the weather was a perfect balance of sun and breeze and you have fans watching and…… I could go on forever about how amazing it was. Go. Immediately if not sooner.
“Being in this family is like having a AAA card”
Friday was spent in Kansas City with some cousins on my dad’s side. I have to say, I have it pretty good. I have relatives all over the country and despite these particular cousins being of the 3rd and 4th cousin variety, we all hang out quite frequently and I totally enjoy their company. I would be willing to bet that not many people hang out with cousins that far removed but on my dad’s side, we all do. It’s a pretty special feeling knowing that I can go just about anywhere in the United States and I have someone to call if I get in a jam or something. This particular trip I visited with my cousin Vinci, who is actually the wife of my dad’s first cousin. Vinci’s daughter Ann was in town from SD with her son Cameron who I hadn’t seen since he was a baby bump at my other cousin’s wedding two years ago. Vinci’s husband Dan (my dad’s first cousin, for those of you trying to map the family tree) came home for lunch and we all ate and chatted and got caught up.
Cameron was quite possibly the funniest two-year old ever. He doesn’t miss a trick. We were driving Ann and him to the airport to catch their flight home and we was pointing out cement mixers, street cleaners (the trucks that give the roads a bath) and was able to differentiate them all. The best was when he said “look Mommy, a convertible!” Sur enough, there was a mercedes convertible, with the top UP. He knew the difference. Ann’s response? “Can you tell we live in SoCal?”
The cutest was when he insisted on wearing his sunglasses like me. He had blue Thomas the Tank shades and asked me to put them on his face but when he saw mine on his head, that’s where his had to be. When I was goofing around and wearing them on the end of my nose like old-people-reading-glasses, he did the same. Freakin’ adorable. See?
Yep, I know we’re pretty darn cute
Post-airport drop off, Vinci and I went to the Plaza in KC and shopped around. We hit a couple of sales at some big name places where I normally would even afford sales at their lowest but of course, there were cute things and the extra 50% off the already reduced price didn’t hurt any. I had an absolute blast and am reminded that I need to hang out with all of my cousins more often. I smell a family reunion in the works!
I had a great time with my family before I headed out to the Royals game that night. I arrived just in time for the first pitch so I didn’t get to explore too much but since KC is pretty much under construction, I would have to give it an incomplete rating anyway. There was a whole lotta concrete going on there, which didn’t do it for me and for a Friday night game, the crowd left a little to be desired. Kauffman Stadium itself actually reminded me a bit of the Oakland Coliseum in look and feel. But the plans for the improvements look pretty cool so until I go back post-revamp, KC gets an INC (and isn’t worthy of a post solely its own.)
Back to the National League
Before I get too in depth with St. Louis, it should be known that I went to the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville and saw Kellie Pickler, Jeff Bates and Craig Morgan. All were phenomenal. While it can be said that music is my therapy (a whole other blog for another time) I can’t get over how much I enjoy live music. Certain songs and lyrics really evoke emotions out of me and being in the Grand Ole Opry was amazing. I think I had goosebumps the whole time.
Of course, there was also the fact that I got my picture taken with the King (kinda)
And the place where we had breakfast the next morning, which had delicious-flavored biscuits. So much so that I bought the cookbook. I now know how to make grits if I ever need to.
Okay, now onto St. Louis. It was a 7:05 start on Wednesday night and the Cards were playing the Pirates. We walked over from the hotel and this is what I saw first:
Busch Stadium, home of the St. Louis Cardinals
And of course, we all know I’m a sucker for historical baseball memorabilia and the like so I naturally had to have my picture taken with the statues of the Hall of Famers.
I like Rogers Hornsby, for reasons other than he is one of the greatest right-handed hitters to have played the game, because this was his take on the game:
“Any ballplayer that don’t sign autographs for little kids ain’t an American. He’s a communist.”
“I don’t want to play golf. When I hit a ball, I want someone else to go chase it.”
"People ask me what I do in winter when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring." - Rogers Hornsby
Once inside, the view from our seats was pretty dang spectacular. Yep, I said dang. Check out this view towards left-center field. Postcard-like, amirite?
And did I mention that it rained in St. Louis while at the game? It was more like a heavy mist, but everyone scattered nonetheless. They were clearly not gamers. But that bit of rain also explains the minor drowned-rat look I have going for me:
I would give St. Louis a low 8 overall. The atmosphere was pretty good (especially for a Wednesday night game) and they definitely got bonus points for shutting down the concession stands during the playing of the National Anthem, which I thought was cool. Of course, I already had my food so… But the field was beautiful, it had a great view of the Arch, the food was decent (although I didn’t try the bratzel, which was the “can’t miss” on the NYT list. Something about a brat wrapped in pretzel dough seemed a bit heavy for me. Like an oversized pig-in-a-blanket.) And the deciding factor in the point scale was whether or not I would want to play ball there if I were a major league player and the answer was a definitive yes.
Cowgirl Up
I’m in Nashville, getting ready to head to the Grand Ole Opry to see Craig Morgan and Kellie Pickler…I was just setting the mood.
I heart the South!
OMG!
Quite frankly, everyone is lucky to be reading this, as I practically had a near-death experience.
Today started out as a lovely travel day. We drove to Louisville and saw the Louisville Slugger Factory, I bought a couple of bats, had a nice lunch at a place claiming to have invented the cheeseburger in 1934, then went to Churchill Downs, home to the Kentucky Derby and made nice with the security guard who then let us up to Millionaire’s Row to take pics where the celebs sit….it was a good day.
Then, we decided to drive to Nashville tonight but first, we needed dinner. It was about 7:30 and this girl was hungry! We had passed a Dairy Queen on the way to find Colonel Sanders’ gravesite (yep, that Col. Sanders) so we had made a mental note to revisit for a blizzard/dinner.
Cut to us ordering at the DQ in Louisville. This was of course, after we had stopped at the gas station next door and seen some of the locals. Let’s just say that had I not been with other people, I would not have been there. But, I was not alone so into the DQ we went. The older lady taking our order, whose Southern accent was the one comics often parody, was not what one might call the most fortunate looking gal. But she was pleasant so what more could you ask for? I will tell you in a minute.
Fast-forward to us sitting in our booth, waiting for them to bring us our order. A younger girl about 16, who also worked there, sets down our trays. As she started to walk away, she looked out of the big plate glass window, we heard a loud bang, she screamed and ran to the booth behind us, where I assumed, she was ducking down.
I looked up in time to see two cars that looked to be perfectly suited for drive-by shootings and my heart stopped. Before I could even duck under the table, she was back at our table, clearly not as hysterical as one should be, post drive by. I looked around, trying to figure out what the hell was going on when she asked if we had seen that. Seen what? I had seen nothing. I was too busy restarting my heart!
Apparently, a bird flew straight into the window. A bird. A freakin’ bird. I thought I was in the middle of a crime scene. This damn bird was dead on the sidewalk.
With all the commotion, the older lady who had taken our order came up to hear what was going on. She, clearly being the experienced/senior DQ staff member, went outside to look at the bird.
Please don’t pick it up. Please don’t pick it up, I muttered to our table. Oh dear god I just ate food from you please for the love of all things holy don’t pick up that dead bird.
She left it alone and came back in. To get a handful of papertowls to pick it up!
Christ on a stick! That would be ‘what more I could ask for’: her to NOT pick it up. It was then that we made a break for the counter to order our blizzards before she could come in and help us again, post dead bird touching. Gross.
We hustled to order our Blizzards and get on the road and while we waited for them to be ready, we found this posted:
I shook my head and announced that I was ready to get the eff outta there. I am so glad the sun was still out when we left the building.
Who wears a green shirt to a Cincinnati Reds game?
Answer: This Kid!
Sunday we had our first day game–the Cincinnati Reds were taking on the St. Louis Cardinals at 1:15 at Great American Ballpark. Both teams’ dominant color was red. I wore green, good choice, right?
The best part is that I bought a white hat with a green Cincinnati C on it. It also comes complete with a clover, so not only am I a Reds fan, I'm an Irish Reds fan!
So before I get any further, I have to give a shout out to KK Delight for recommending Skyline Chili. What we didn’t know beforehand was that, was that the NYT had recommended something called a cheese coney. Cheese coneys freakin rock. It’s a Colleen-sized chili dog, but with Skyline Chili! The best of both worlds! I had me one of those and it was delicious!
So back to the yard. Cincinnati was by far the leading stadium on the trip so far. First of all, I was all jacked up because our tickets were (almost) directly behind homeplate, just a hair to the third base side. I was right in line with Albert Pujols when he stood in the on deck circle. And good news, his thighs are still as big as my torso. And I may be short, but I’m disproportionate as well.
Albert Pujols is the opposite of small. And he's a pretty good hitter, in case you didn't know
The outside entry wasn’t as gradieur as I might have hoped, (I think they may have had only one entrance?) It wasn’t the type of ballpark where you walk all the way around. But once in the ballpark, they had plenty of space to walk around. And bonus points for the aforementioed space being wiiiiiiide. No dodging other people or strollers or what have you. The signage inside was also very cool. Throwback concession signs added to the atmosphere.
This made me want to scrapbook. I ♥ the design.
Then they have a large mock boat in center field with seats and viewing areas. Way cool.
They have the Red Head Club for little kids and before the game, they had nine kids each take the field, after announcing them on the PA system and showing them on the jumbo tron, and when the Reds came out, they signed a ball for the kid at their position then the kids ran off. It was adorable.
See how family-friendly it was? I got to be on a baseball card with some studly Reds from yesteryear. Nevermind I had to let a 3 year old go before me. And that I had to lift her up because she was too small to reach.
We walked around a bit during the game and the only bad seat, that I could figure, was in right field, because your view of left field action was obscured by the Pepsi Power Stacks, which blew after a homerun. That’s kinda a bummer. But the view behind the outfield was amazing. Right on the river, the backdrop was incredible.
This is the view behind right field. It's no splash zone but isn't it pretty? Ignore the ugly trash can. And the shirt that makes me look prego
And did I mention how friendly the ushers were?
The Reds won the game, which was also out first victory of the trip. So in conclusion, I would give Cincy’s yard a high 7 or low 8.
The city of Cincinnati was also the coolest of the 3 we had been to as well. We got back from the game and promptly fell asleep from being out in the sun all day. But post-nap, we dined at a famous rib joint, where everything tasted delicious and I was disheartened to not be able to eat it all. Ribs, pulled port and brisket with two jalepeno corncakes– I just couldn’t do it.
After dinner, we cruised around Mt. Adams trying to find a beautilful church we had seen from the field earlier. Naturally, it’s up in the hills, overlooking the city and it also happens to be a perfect make out spot. We totally crashed some couple’s romantic date. Oops.
But Cincinnati gets two thumbs up in my book.
