I’m from Los Angeles and so I tend to do sports the way my fellow Angelenos do it: show up late and leave early. But I went to the Saturday game and lo and behold, I was early. On top of that, it was a full house, which is good for Hens baseball, bad for me who likes to not be inconvenienced. With my media pass, I tend to set up shop wherever I want. I could sit in the press box, but as my coverage tends to involve the fan experience, I eschew that sort of professionalism. Normally this works out for me— I set up in whatever seats I think will fulfill my aims for the day, watch a few innings of good minor league baseball and get out of Dodge.
But being the weekend of Father’s Day, and apparently the biggest day of the year for corporate parties, AND it being Polish American Festival Day (complete with a singing of the Polish National Anthem— I didn’t know if I should put my hand over my heart or just stand there awkwardly, so I played it smart and stood there awkwardly— no way are the Feds gonna have video evidence of me pledging loyalty to Poland) AND it being Legends of Wrestling Day with Jake the Snake Roberts and his mile-long autograph line, it was a crowded day at Fifth Third Field. Too much action for me— I just wanted to take a seat, slouch in and enjoy the game.
Seat control
Part of the problem of having a media pass is I don’t have an assigned seat (really, the only problem I should say). So on this most crowded of days, I would take a random seat, get settled, and then have some family show up with their hot dogs and drinks, doing that annoying thing where the husband knows you’re in their seats but checks his tickets in front of you just to be certain. “Yeah, I get it, I’ll move.”
This happened four friggin’ times. The final one was in the 7th inning! What the hell is that? That’s late even by Angeleno standards (though to be fair, I did show up in the eighth inning of the second game of that Sunday doubleheader about a month ago— but the game ended up going ‘til the 11th inning, so I ended up with plenty of baseball).
Eat control
I thought I was going to get my beloved pot roast poutine again, but the crowds chased me upstairs to the club level. I, for a moment, truly did consider resigning myself to the press box with the actual baseball writers, but it was too gorgeous a day to not have the sun on my back while watching some stickball proper style.
Upstairs, a little rack of spinning pizzas caught my eye and I could get the “Deluxe” (just a fancified name for Combination/Everything pizza) for the same price as the lousy cheese only: $3.50. If you’re a pizza fiend like myself, you tend to recognize the Everything pizza as the finest deal in town. And considering a monster slice of Deluxe pizza (really two slices combined) was the same price as a monster slice of Boring pizza, this makes this the best deal on what is likely the best deal in the ballpark. Seriously, if you’re raising little fat kids and you want to feed them for cheap, get ‘em the pizza. I was full enough afterwards that the pot roast poutine would have to wait. And that’s saying something.
Oh yeah, the Hens won 5-2.
