Stitch N' Pitch

Stitch N' Pitch is so popular that in Cincinnati the game sold out. On second thought, brisk ticket sales might have had something to do with it being Reds Hall of Fame induction night. Although The Big Red Machine member César Gerónimo was among the inductees, the attraction for many of the fans had to be the honoring of hometown hero Barry Larkin. Yeah, that's probably a better explanation for the packed house.

I was expecting something along the lines of Sticks N Stitches--a section of knitters and a bag of swag--but when I took my seat down the left field line shortly after the gates opened, there was no sight of anything knitting-related. Granted, I arrived early, and I suspect most people didn't want to bake under a glaring sun beaming down a temperature in the low nineties. I did have some knitting with me but didn't bother doing any. I wanted to watch batting practice, and the heat wasn't conducive to knitting anyway. The bright sun did make the red decorating the stadium pop like the colors on HDTV. Beautiful day...but a scorcher.

I had anticipated needing to explain why I had knitting needles and scissors in my messenger bag, but the security person's cursory check didn't even spot them. My planner fell under light suspicion, as I was asked to unzip it to show what it was.

As attendees slowly filtered into the section and knitters were conspicuously absent, I began to wonder if I was near the main event. I could have sworn that when I first looked at Stitch N' Pitch tickets that they were in a similar section down the right field line. Had I been relegated to an outlying area for waiting until six days before the game to buy a ticket?

Eventually some knitters began taking seats, but the majority of the people around me were not there for Stitch N' Pitch. (I suppose I should take this time to mention that unlike some of the knitters present, my primary interest was watching the game, not having it as background for working on a project.) I overheard a couple knitters mention that they had gone all around the stadium in search of the knitting swag that each of us was supposed to get, but they couldn't find anyone who knew about it. Something tells me that the free Reds hat handed out to the first 20,000 through the gates wasn't what they had in mind.

Free stuff would have been nice, but I think the bigger complaint from Stitch N' Pitchers was the random disbursement of knitters. When I went to the Sticks N Stitches event, the knitters were condensed into one section with a few random stragglers ending up there unaware of it. At this Stitch N' Pitch game, the knitters were intermingled among the crowd and frequently asked to explain what was going on. If you went to socialize with other knitters, chances are you were limited to doing so with those who came with you.

The non-knitters, particularly middle-aged men, seemed both amused and bemused by the knitting taking place during the game. Plenty of jokes were made, although generally it seemed to be good-natured. Even if I had wanted to knit or had felt comfortable enough to do so, I can't imagine knitting while at a baseball game. The evidence may have proven otherwise, but we were in a prime section for foul balls and wicked line drives.

If it sounds like I'm complaining, I'm not. I was happy to go to a game for half price, which eased the cost of driving to Cincinnati and back, and to see my team win. (I'd gone almost two years between visits to the ballpark and watching them claim victory.) The event could have been better organized, although I understand the difficulty of setting aside seats for a game where they ended up selling standing room tickets. As far as I know, there was no point person other than someone in the ticket office, which makes me appreciate LittleWit's Sticks N Stitches efforts all the more.