Sunday afternoon in The Jungle

I've been to my share of Major League Baseball and National Hockey League games, but when it comes to the National Football League, I can count the number of times I've attended a game on one hand.  The tickets are more expensive (if available), there are fewer games, and the weather often can be less than hospitable.  It doesn't help that may favorite team, the Cincinnati Bengals, has not been very good for most of my teen and adult years, which lessens the desire to bother springing for tickets.

Before today I'd been to an NFL game twice.  I saw the Bengals host the Detroit Lions in 1989 and Baltimore Ravens in 2004.  A friend won tickets to today's game against the Browns and invited me, so add a third game to my list.

For late November the weather certainly could have been worse.  It also could have been better.  The sky spit rain intermittently, and when the wind came through, it could get chilly.  I suppose I could have dressed warmer, although I was wearing the hat I knit in Bengals colors last year.

I'd been to Paul Brown Stadium once before, but I had little memory of the stadium's interior.  Maybe it's because the building is not owned by the team or maybe because it's used for a limited number of events per year, but the concourse lacks personality, especially compared to the baseball stadiums I've visited.  Is that how most football-specific stadiums are?  (While I haven't been inside, the one in Dallas most assuredly is not.)  It isn't a big deal, but unlike baseball team homes, this one was less than awe-inspiring.

The NFL's product is very friendly for the TV viewer.  To a certain extent that's to the detriment of the fans at the game.  The stadium experience was lacking in some areas.  Since our seats were in the corner of an end zone, there were times we were better off watching the action on the scoreboard to have a better idea of what was happening on some plays.  The length of TV timeouts is more deeply felt as you stand around waiting for the action to resume.  Although out-of-town scores and highlights are displayed, one feels sealed off from much else at an NFL game.

Those reasons, in addition to those I mentioned in the first paragraph, are probably enough to keep me from ever being a regular attendee at NFL games.  (That the team is a two-hour drive away factors in too.)  Don't get me wrong.  I enjoyed the time at the game, which was a good one in general.  The Bengals won in semi-dramatic fashion with a late field goal at the end where we sat.  I definitely won't complain about that.  Unlike other league's games, though, I don't know that seeing them in person is the best way to experience them.  Weird, that.

Meet the Beatle

At the age of 69 it is sort of incredible how long Paul McCartney played and how good he was during his concert in Cincinnati's Great American Ball Park. He still seemed quite youthful, and his voice has held up very well. If neither of these qualities were in place, I can't imagine that he would have played a nearly three hour show, which is what we got. His songbook certainly could sustain such a lengthy performance, one longer than that even. Still, how many people his age can you think of capable of doing this and doing it so well?

This was the last stop on his North American tour, and it wouldn't be out of the question to wonder if it might have been his last ever on this side of the Atlantic. Honestly, the chance that this was my final opportunity to see him live was a big motivation in my decision to buy a ticket. Maybe those thoughts factored into the setlist, which featured far more Beatles songs than I expected. Sure, it's not like he could go wrong playing some of the most popular songs ever. The size of the catalog he can draw from is staggering. His career in Wings and as a solo artist were represented, but The Beatles ruled the day. I suppose it was only appropriate. I certainly won't complain.

I got the chills several times hearing him enthusiastically perform classic songs that he's surely played long past the point where they interest him. Whether he stuck closely to the recorded versions or went with different arrangements, the results were thrilling. Among the highlights were a ukulele-led "Something" (not even one he wrote!), his solo acoustic playing of "Blackbird", "Maybe I'm Amazed", and the concert-capping "Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight/The End". He hit a stretch in the middle of the night where I was astounded to be reminded of how many truly great songs and popular hits he's written. How could you not love this?

I don't attend many big concerts like this, and when I do, it can be hard for the artist or band to shrink the venue. Most turn to big production values. There were a few of those during McCartney's concert--pyrotechnics during "Live and Let Die" were the flashiest--but for the most part the strength of the songs and the performance were relied upon to make the stadium feel smaller. To my amazement, he accomplished that. No, I wasn't doubting his abilities. After all, he's had plenty of practice. But it takes a lot of skill to make anywhere with a sold out crowd of 41,500 is intimate. To that end, McCartney's jovial attitude and anecdote sharing went a long way in making this massive space seem like a small party. Plus, say what you will about the peace and love vibe from the '60s, but the joyousness in his music is as pure and enduring expression of it as one might hope for.

The label "living legend" gets carelessly applied, but in the music world I can't think of many who are on equal footing with McCartney. What are the chances that any musical artist in the future can reach across as many generations and cultures for going on 50 years? (I'm not even sure the same goes for former bandmate Ringo Starr.) Initially I second guessed if I should go, but I'm glad I did. What a great night of music.

A full plate

It would be fitting to write about my dad, what with it being Father's Day and all, and I might have done so if things had gone according to plan. I made the trip to Cincinnati to spend the weekend watching the Reds as a way to unwind from the end of the school year. I also intended for it to be a time to spend with my dad, as he lives far enough away that getting to the games isn't easy if you just want to go for the day. Since he and my mom are getting ready to close on a house and move, he couldn't join me. Assuming the Reds don't go in the tank over the next month, I've floated the idea of doing this in July.

Before the game I went to breakfast and ordered the bacon pancakes. I assumed it was more like bacon bits sprinkled into the batter rather than the sizable pieces you can see pictured above. They were good, although somehow the bacon's taste didn't quite come through as much being in the pancakes. But not to fear, I also got a side order of bacon, which was fantastic. (Hey, I'm exercising regularly, so I can sort of justify eating this.)

Plus, I walked all the way from Kentucky to Ohio. (OK, it was probably only a mile.) Of the things that I love, not paying much for parking is on the list. Three bucks to park for a professional sporting event? That's a win.

The Reds still didn't have much offense in them, but they managed to win and send me home on a high note. Although rain fell before the game, it held off until the top of the ninth. All in all, the weather was pretty good for mid-June.

The weekend was much more of a whirlwind than I'd hoped, but it was a pleasant 48 hours out of town. Let's do it again soon.

View from the catbird seat

Various observations from two days at the ballpark in Cincinnati:

-I saw a baby with pierced ears. OK, I can't vouch that they were pierced, but she had earrings. If the child can't yet walk, isn't this way too young for such a thing?

-With a lot of patience, I ended up getting a very good seat for Friday night's game through the online secondary market. (I wonder if it might have fallen a little more in price if I hadn't had to buy it before driving down here.) I figured that someone with a scattered single might get desperate to unload it, especially since most tickets were usually listed at face value or more. Considering I had to pay $10.20 in fees, a ticket even $10 less than face is no bargain when tickets are available at the box office.

-Ticket fees, whether from outlets or the resale market, are outrageously high. Maybe those in charge consider it transparency. It's more like highway robbery.

-I'm sad to see that many of the beggars that line the path on the way from the stadium to the parking lots and garages are familiar, in part because they're in the same spots they were a year ago.

-Old fashioned hand slapped burger? Isn't these handcrafted/artisanal descriptions getting just a little out of hand?

-Although tonight's game wasn't anything to write home about--the Reds lost again in less-than-thrilling fashion--I'm beginning to think that the outfield seats are not the way to go. Last night's seat had me much more involved than my right center perch. Good thing tomorrow's spot is along the first base side.

-I hate paying much for parking if I can help it. My usual spot appears to have gone up from $5 to $8 this year. Today I drove just across the river to Newport, KY to see a movie--two, in fact. The garage there charges $3 but refunded $1.75 for theater ticket validation. Since it was pay upon entry, I spent most of the day south of the Ohio border, went to the game by walking over the river and back on the bridge, and spent a grand total of $1.25 parking for what was around twelve hours. Victory!

-Seriously, though, even if I had to pay $5--rates there went up closer to game time--it's probably the same distance as where I've usually parked on Pete Rose Way. The upsides: the walk to the stadium and back is mostly uninterrupted by traffic lights or cars. I got out of there and on the highway as fast, if not faster, than my previous preferred spot. The downside: You can't always walk around people who may be taking their time.

-Can't complain about the weather so far this weekend. Friday night was a little sticky but gradually became more comfortable. Tonight brought some sprinkles for a few innings but was otherwise a very nice night in a month when it can be very hot and humid. More nice weather Sunday, please. (A win would be good too.)

-I may dare to begin my Sunday morning with bacon pancakes.

To the ballgame

I'd like to write about the night at the ballpark, but I feel like I'm already behind the eight ball when it comes to figuring out what I will be doing tomorrow before the game. The tentative plan is to catch a movie at Newport on the Levee and then spend the remainder of the time leading up to the game on the Kentucky side of the Ohio, but there are details to iron out before I go to bed.

It was a lovely night to take in a game, albeit a bit sticky early on. Thanks to a seller on the online secondary market who kept dropping the price of the ticket, I snagged a seat probably in the best spot I've sat in the stadium.

The game was a pretty good one, save for the Reds losing. Fireworks capped the night at the ol' ball yard. Hopefully I'll see more of those the next two days, as they're shot off when the home team homers and, more importantly, wins.

Playoffs

I've been waiting a long time to attend a postseason game that the Cincinnati Reds play in. I had tickets for a 1999 series that they ended up not qualifying for. I've watched them fail to make the playoffs since 1995. So while the Reds entered last night's game in the best of five series down 2-0 via a no-hitter and an embarrassing display of defensive collapse and loss of pitching control, I was still happy to be heading to the ballpark to see my team compete. It's the playoffs! I still believe despite knowing better!

It may have been a lucky break that had me there in the first place. I read that 250,000 e-mail addresses were submitted for the lottery to select those in the general public who would get first crack at buying playoff tickets. Out of my family, my name was the only one drawn for the NLDS (effectively the quarterfinals). I was also the only one to be picked in the second chance drawing for tickets to the NLCS games (semifinals). Come hell or high water, I was going to be at the playoffs.

I ordered tickets for my dad and two brothers, so going to the playoffs was to be a family affair and a fully day. We met at the hotel and went to a sports bar to watch the first half of the Bengals game before returning to the lodging to watch the rest. (The banks of monitors and noise was a little overwhelming for my dad.) That game ended with an unexpected but all-too-familiar disaster--the Bengals found a way to blow it late--but my enthusiasm for the Reds game remained high.

We arrived early on the riverfront and walked by the crowd milling around the stadium on our way to find somewhere to eat downtown. Wendy's was one of the few places open within a couple blocks of the ballpark, so it had a long line of fans waiting to grab a bite before the game. Everyone knew the uphill battle the hometown team was staring at, but the playoff atmosphere had people jazzed regardless.

The weather could not have been much more perfect. Here it was October 10 and one temperature display read 94 degrees at 5:30 p.m. There wasn't any humidity, though, so the heat wasn't felt nearly as much as it would be in July. With it being in the mid-70s for the game itself, who could ask for better this time of year?

The steamboat music playing over the stadium PA was a little strange--it's the Popeye theme!-- albeit appropriate considering the ballpark's location near the banks of the Ohio River. Almost everyone was decked out in red, and it was something to be a part of as the game neared and people waved their rally towels and cheered. To be in a big crowd--the 44,599 attending set a ballpark record--and root for the Reds with something on the line was why I wanted to be there. This wasn't an ordinary game. A loss meant the season was over.

Unfortunately an error led to an unearned run for the Phillies in the top of the 1st, which sort of broke the illusion that perhaps this game might be different. Still, being part of a crowd booing in unison at various members of the opposition and cheering when something went right was a lot of fun in spite of the outcome we all feared and anticipated.

The mood was generally pretty positive, save for the guy in front of me who booed Michelle Obama when she appeared on the scoreboard for a public service announcement about welcoming home veterans and later yelled at a worker collecting recyclables late in the game because he thought it was rude to ask him to pass along the empty bottles under his seat. At least where I was, the ratio of good, respectful fans enjoying themselves to boorish ones was about as good as I've witnessed at a baseball game.

And fine, if the Reds weren't going to win or really even threaten, at least the team turned in the most respectable effort of the three games and featured the Reds hard-throwing phenom (pictured above) nicknamed the Cuban missile. The fans still applauded the Reds on a successful season even when their elimination was complete. A loss wasn't the outcome any of us wanted, but the playing of this game represented a season of wins and hope for the future. All in all, that's not such a bad consolation.