A few years ago, when I was editing a paper in eastern Colorado, the corporate head type dude of the newspaper chain flew all the editors in the chain in Colorado to a Rockies game, and we sat in the sky box and ate catered food and drank good booze and watched the game.
About a year later, he came down to see how I ran my shop. That evening I drove his wife and him to a Colorado Springs Sky Socks game. We sat in the hot tub and visited with the right fielders for a couple of innings. Then we went back to our box seats right next to the Sky Socks dug out (I think about $13). The side-line hot tub was a little more that but well worth it. We drank beer, ate hot dogs and did the wave with nine-year-old kids. The guy’s wife got a chance to make a hole in one in a silly promotion of a local radio station. And we got in a squirt-gun fight with a grounds keeper.
The players visited with us and seemed to actually enjoy signing autographs for the kids around us. We booed the ump, cheered the home team and wore Sky Socks baseball caps.
We also saw a pretty good game of baseball.
As we drove back to my town, everybody was laughing and talking about the game. Nothing like that happened when we went to Denver. I love minor league baseball. If there is a minor league team whenever I go someplace, I always make sure to catch a game.
Although I haven’t seen a game there for a couple of years, it really was a fun time.
Whenever the opposing team’s catcher would go out to the mound to talk to the pitcher, the announcer would begin this routine:
“OK, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to activate out hidden mound mike.”
(Then he would use two different voices.)
Whiny voice: They’re shelling me, Bruce! They’re hitting everything I throw!
Other voice: They must not know your mom’s in the stands. You want me to tell 'em?
Whiny voice: Yeah, yeah. Maybe then they’ll be nice to me.
Other voice: Ok, Bruce. I’ll let 'em know.
Whiny voice: One more thing…
Other voice: What’s that?
Whiny voice: Hold me.
By then the crowd is laughing, and the pitcher and catcher are laughing, too.
I wonder if they still have a little pig bring the baseballs out to the ump at the start of the game?
Oh, yeah. I got a back massage from a nun at a game once. Little *^&@#) was fierce, too.
I usually try to get to at least one Lexington Legends (low-A Astros affiliate) game a year.
Usually it’s the season opener, but last year I was lucky enough to see Roger Clemens make his first rehab start after signing with the Astros. The park was CROWDED (it was also quarter hot dog night) but I had a seat on the third-base line right behind the visitors’ dugout, so I had a great view.
Applebee’s Park isn’t a bad little stadium, except the concourse is laid out so that the concession stand lines block up the main entrance, which can slow things down early in the game.
I also enjoy the not so high level of play in some minor league games. I mean in the majors you occassionally see misplays, bobbles or down-right errors, but in minor league ball you are guarenteed of it. And if you go with entertainment in mind it’s like you’re own blooper reel.
I was in Albuquerque for something or other, so we went to an Isotopes (one of the worst team names ever in my book) game. We got seats right behind home plate and I commenced to harrass the visiting team and give as much support to the home team as was possible as they were quickly down by three or four. I was also drinking bit of beer at the time.
About the fourth inning my friends and I noticed that both teams were paying attention to my suggestions. I would shout, “Hey, this is a good time to lay down a bunt.” The guy would bunt. I would shout, “look at the hole between first and second,” the guy would hit toward that side. The next inning when I said something like that the opposing team would put on a shift and close up the gap, or move in when I called for a bunt. I called for pitch outs, walks and steals and almost all of my suggestions were being followed even when they were rather illogical.
The people around us were getting quite a kick out of it. It was a little frightening for my wife, though, who, about the seventh inning, stood up and shouted, “Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about and he’s more than a little bit drunk!”
She made me be quiet an just watch the game. Still, it had been fun.
TV time, that reminds me a little bit of the stories about Bill Veeck. One game, an entire section of the crowd filled in for the manager using large cards and the crowd made every decision, from infield depth to the starting lineup.
The between-innings stuff and the wacky promotions can be annoying at times–for the last couple of years, the Isotopes have worn camo-style jerseys during Memorial Day weekend for home games, making it impossible to make out the numbers from the stands–but for someone like me, who grew up watching baseball in the age of free agency, million-dollar salaries, and plenty of money for the clubs, these minor-league stunts are as close as I can get to the stories of pranks and publicity stunts of the 40s and 50s.
Yep, I love it. I can’t get a decent ticket in Fenway for less than $100, but the worst seat at Fraser Field for the North Shore Spirit is as close as the best in most major league parks (and I’ve been in many of those) - and for only $5-7.. True, you do have to be tolerant of the quality of play at times, 'cause if these guys were any better they wouldn’t be playing independent ball in the Can-Am League, but every other aspect of a fun day at the ballpark is there.
I don’t much care for the mascots, either, but then I’m a grownup. The clown in the Muppet costume isn’t there for the likes of me, anyway. He’s there to get the kiddies to think of going to a ballgame as fun, so they’ll want to go to more, and maybe one day notice the action on the field. The future of the game as a business *depends * on the mascots, and on the cheesy contests for cheap prizes and the coupons for free hamburgers if the team wins, and all that. Gotta have that stuff at every game. And, if you actually want to see the best ballplaying, the major leaguers are always on TV anyway.
I grew up going to AAA games despite the fact that I lived in the Bay Area close to two major league teams. I remember rooting for the San Jose Missions, San Jose Bees and the San Jose Giants. I remember going to a Sacramento Solons game while visiting my grandparents here in Sacramento. I was thrilled when Sacramento finally got a new AAA team, the Rivercats.
Of course I spent plenty of time going to San Francisco Giants games as a kid and adult, as well.
The things I love about minor league ball are the prices, both for tickets and snacks, the smaller crowds and the fact that the players are willing to (and even seem to enjoy) mixing with the fans, signing autographs and such.
I remember once when I was a kid at a San Jose Missions game, it was free ball night. I was probably 7 or so. I took my ball down to the rail and asked one of the guys to sign it. He did, and so did several others. Then he took my ball over to the visitors dug out and got their whole team to sign it for me. Thirty years later, I still have that ball.
You get any eventual stars? I used to have a ball with Mike Piazza’s signature somewhere, got it when he was still playing AAA ball in Albuquerque, but I’m afraid I lost it.
Oh, yes. If you want a ballpark fix, and you don’t want to pay $45 a seat to sit 150 feet above the field, go out to a AAA Minor League ball park. You can sit quite close to the field for $7 a seat. Even less than that, if you want to take your own cooler and sit on the outfield lawn. If you get there early enough, you can get an autograph from a player who might be a major leaguer next year