Look, it's baseball

A pretty good World Series concluded this evening, although not with the winning team I adopted and cheered on in person this postseason.  The Texas Rangers will have to wait at least another year to get their first title in franchise history.

Last night's Game 6 was sloppy before transforming into the sort of game destined to become the stuff of legend.  Folks were tripping over themselves this morning to declare it the Best Game Ever.  It was a dramatic game, no doubt, but let's not rush to judgment.

As Octobers go in baseball, this was a terrific one.  The playoffs featured a healthy amount of excitement.  This World Series was probably the best one in awhile. 

A recent tradition at this point in the year is for sports commentators to be poised to point out how baseball's TV ratings aren't as strong as in prior decades and note how this means the game is hurting.  OK, fine, baseball has ceded it's status as America's favorite sport to football, but the number of people watching on broadcast television, say, thirty years ago versus now isn't a worthwhile comparison.  Think of how many other channels and entertainment options are available now.  A hundred or more cable channels, not to mention DVD/Blu-ray, streaming video, and the internet, are there to pull away viewers versus the four broadcast channels that dominated home entertainment back then.  Of course the ratings don't measure up now, and i should care that they don't because why?

Of all the professional sports, baseball is the one that's there almost every day while it's in season for seven months.  It's fitting that as this season ends the weather has just changed to colder temperatures, when it's time to change the type of clothing one wears.  As baseball steps aside for a bit, so too do the warm months.  They'll be back before we know it.

Game 4

As a lifelong baseball fan, what a thrill it was to be at a World Series game. My team wasn't playing, and the seat, while certainly satisfactory, was not exactly close. It didn't matter. Here I was at one of only six or seven of these games that will be played, and I'm there with one of my brothers and my eleven-month-old nephew. (I know that sounds like a bad idea for the little one to be there. I said as much. Nevertheless, the little guy was really well behaved.)

Although a Dallas Cowboys regular season game was taking place across the parking lot, the ballpark was predictably packed with folks eager to see the Texas Rangers even the series with the St. Louis Cardinals.

Zooey Deschanel was there to sing the National Anthem (and promote her sitcom on the game's network broadcaster).

There were flags, including this big one on the field during pre-game...

...and a former baseball great (Nolan Ryan) and former President (George W. Bush).

The sellout crowd went nuts when Mike Napoli hit a three run home run to put the Rangers ahead 4-0.

All in all, it was a beautiful night in the mid to upper 60s. I'm sure there's more I can say, but it's been plenty of work to get this posted after tonight's game.

Last minute trip

And with this result, it means I'm headed to Dallas next weekend.  Crazy.

It started with me thinking, "Huh, I wonder if my brother might be able to scrounge up tickets to a World Series game down there and if flights are reasonable."  Both rhetorical questions could be answered in the affirmative, although the latter took a little bit more looking--and buying blindly from Hotwire--since the airline I was going to fly on doubled their round trip rates between Tuesday and tonight.  Raised costs in the intervening days had been my big concern, but I wasn't going to book until the game was a certainty.  Even when the Rangers led by a likely insurmountable number of runs, I avoided booking.  Ultimately I paid less than I expected, although I'm getting back a bit later than I had hoped.

It'll be fun to go to the game and see my nephew, who will have nearly doubled his age since I saw him last.  I expect it will also be nice simply to get away for a few days too.  What a year of unexpected activities and travels. 

162

Realistically my Reds have been out of the pennant race for two months, if not longer.  It was a disappointing year to be a fan of the baseball team in Cincinnati.  A busy September and nothing to see them play for meant I watched few of their games as they played out the string.

Still, I am a baseball fan, so I tuned in to see which teams would grab the last two spots in the playoffs.  I didn't have any particular rooting interest.  Sure, I preferred for Atlanta and Tampa to advance, but it didn't have anything invested in the outcomes.

As it turns out, it was a great night to be a fan of the sport.  Of the four games that mattered, only one didn't require one's close attention.  Two went to extra innings, one of which probably never should have needed the additional frames.  One was decided with a two-out ninth inning rally.  Two of the games with somewhat improbable endings wrapped within minutes of each other.

Except for sporting events, technology and time-shifting have rendered live viewing of television largely inessential.  (You can get away with recording games to watch later, but you're also probably more in danger of having the result spoiled.)  Tonight's dramatic conclusion of the regular season had to be experienced as it happened, though.  Whether it was switching between channels or interacting with friends through Twitter as we watched the games while hundreds of miles apart, being in the moment is what made it so thrilling.  It certainly was worth fighting through the slumber trying to overtake me.

On the move

I had a busy day in Washington, D.C., although it wasn't what I initially set out to do. I planned to visit the Newseum, but I got into the District at the start of lunchtime and figured I ought to grab something to eat first.

I just signed up for Foursquare on my phone, in part to help me find places to eat here and in New York City. I found a pizza place that was about a mile's walk from the Newseum, so I headed out in its direction. I was a little disoriented and wasted some time going the wrong way, so I ended up getting lunch later than initially expected. I didn't realize I was going to a place that Top Chef's Spike runs.

I got a slice of pepperoni, a slice of Hawaiian, and a homemade grape soda for what turned out to be a lunch worth going out of my way to get. I guess those Top Chef folks know what they're doing. I also had some frozen yogurt with fresh blueberries, strawberries, and chocolate chips to cap the meal and sat in front of the Library of Congress's James Madison building to eat it.

By that point going to the Newseum really didn't make any sense, so I wandered over to the Capitol and took the tour. I'd seen it from the outside on a previous trip to D.C. some years ago, but I'd never gone in. I didn't have a gallery pass to see House or Senate chambers, but it was still a neat experience. From there I wandered over to the Library of Congress's main building through the adjoining underground tunnel. I arrived just as that tour was starting, so I got to get a look around this beautiful building.

The Supreme Court was nearby, so I decided that I really ought to see it. I snapped some pictures, walked up the steps, took some more photos, and then approached a cop to find out if the Metro stop on the line I needed to take to the ballpark was closer than the one I had arrived on. He suggested walking (!) to the stadium and explained how to get there. I was a little dubious, but I had the time and thought that it would let me see more of the area.

Sure enough, I didn't have any trouble finding it and saved a couple bucks in train fare.

The Reds lost, and thus went 1-2 while I was here to see them play. Still, I had a good time in this brief visit to D.C. Now I head north to New York City. A Broadway play is definitely on the docket. A Mets game may be too. Beyond that, who knows?

Front row seat

Keeping busy here in the greater Washington, D.C. area. Today was slower, as I took my time getting around and met a friend for lunch at a Vietnamese restaurant in northern Virginia. By the time I got back to the hotel and dealt with some other stuff, I figured I really only had time to go to the baseball game. So that's what I did.

I'll have to do one post dedicated to Nationals Park, especially since I don't feel like doing it tonight. Anyway, as you can see from the photo, I was in the first row of fixed seating on the first base line. All praise the secondary market, which offered this up at a great price and thus put it into my range of what I was willing to spend. And to think I landed one on the third base side for Thursday that's just seven rows from the field and paid even less!

What I'm saying is that I never sit this close. So that's making this fun and letting me see different parts of the stadium. A Reds win tonight didn't hurt.

Trick play

'Twas a very hot day for attending a baseball game, although after you were in it for awhile, it wasn't so bad. (Keep in mind that it was somewhere in the 90s.) A nice breeze tended to come down, and by the end of the game, our seats were in the shade. Which isn't to say I didn't sweat a lot.

With the way the Reds are stinking it up, it was probably just as well that my dad and I met in Cincinnati for only two games. Of course, as I realized last night, it was nice that we were able to meet up for even one. This wasn't something that either of my parents could do with their fathers when they were my age now. My mother was in college when her dad died. My dad must have been in his twenties when his dad passed.

I don't bring this up to bum out the room or myself, although it's certainly a bittersweet thought and not the sort of awareness one wishes to get while trying to fall asleep. (Yep, that's when it occurred to me.) If anything, I am now able to appreciate more the time I have with my parents, even in those instances when they get on my nerves. They never really had an adulthood with their fathers. I've been fortunate to have one with both of mine.

I've always been on good terms with my parents and never really had the sorts of major issues with them that I sometimes hear other people having. It's what I accepted as normal, just as I reflected that my dad must have done stuff like this with his father...except wait, no he didn't. To a certain extent I imagine that such a relationship might mean I take them for granted. How I was raised and get along with my family is more or less how it's supposed to be, right? Perhaps, but it doesn't necessarily turn out that way in many families.

Funny how what was supposed to be a short overnight trip to see a couple ballgames and which featured probably more talk about the team than anything else--such a cliché--gave me a greater perspective on how I relate to my parents.

Swing and a miss

Great seats, miserable game.

It'll be a quick 26 hours or so that I'm here in Cincinnati with my dad. That'll be nice. The baseball from our favorite team certainly doesn't appear to be.

If you heard us talking during the game, I imagine one might wonder why we put up with it. (For those who don't follow the sport, the Reds have been frustratingly mediocre most of the season and are playing uninspired right now.) I'm not very happy with the effort I see from this team and how it's being managed, but watching them--and griping about them, as necessary--is something I enjoy. I suppose you understand that or you don't.

Anyway, there's another game Thursday afternoon and then back home. A win would be good. Please.

All-Star

The Major League Baseball All-Star Game took place tonight. If you read much of anything written in anticipation of it, chances are you found lots of snippy comments and dismissals of the mid-season exhibition. The brickbats have been rightfully earned. Players beg off the squad for the smallest of reasons. Most of the elected starters now put in token appearances. Interleague play has tarnished the appeal of match-ups that otherwise weren't seen except for this game or the World Series.

The source of much of the displeasure with the game stems from the 2002 edition, which unceremoniously ended in a tie because both teams had used their full complement of players and the managers didn't want to burden their last pitchers. It was a bad decision that led to a bigger one: making the exhibition "mean something" by staking home field advantage in the World Series on the outcome. Why hinge a crucial postseason advantage on a game that otherwise doesn't count--it never did, other than league bragging rights--and isn't taken seriously by the participants?

I fondly remember watching the All-Star Game on TV when I was a kid. It was one of the rare times to see players from the American League and even some of the other National League teams. Keep in mind that comparatively few games aired then. I don't remember how often the Reds were on in the '80s, but it wasn't anywhere close to the approximately 90% of the schedule that I get now.

So while people gripe about the rule that requires a representative from each team, at least back then it made sense. I wanted to see players from my favorite team out there with guys from all the other clubs. One of my favorite aspects of the game is seeing the field taken by players in all those different uniforms. While they're playing on one of two sides,wearing their regular uniforms turns the showcase on what are theoretically the sport's best (or best that year).

I recall staying up for the end of that fateful 2002 game, although I may very well have fallen asleep before the arrival of the boneheaded decision to call it a tie. (The increasingly later times for first pitch don't make it friendly for kids or adults who work regular business days.) I don't think the All-Star Game has meant as much to me since as it did before then. Once I had joined the working world I still kept up with the game. Now it's become something that I'll watch if I'm home but won't sweat missing if something else is going on. (Tonight's game conflicted with a screening of the final Harry Potter film. Even after I got home, I only half paid attention.)

Some things look better through the lens of nostalgia, and some things were better the way they used to be. When it comes to the All-Star Game, the latter sentiment is the correct one to apply.

Major minors

Dayton welcomed a minor league baseball team after I no longer lived in the area. My parents may have moved away by then too. So, until last night I'd never been to a game at Fifth Third Field to see the Class A Dayton Dragons. Adding to my reasons for never having attended a game there: the first season sold out before any games were played, and I'd heard they were perpetually sold out. I hadn't heard incorrectly. Apparently they've sold out every game since the team began playing in 2000.

Having read an article about the franchise being on the verge of breaking the North American professional sports record for consecutive sellouts, I decided that the time had come for me to drive over to Dayton to see a game. My great aunt fell and broke her hip recently, so I felt like I needed to go back there to visit her. Going to a ballgame would just be a way of maximizing the trip.

As it turns out, last night's game was the record breaker: #815. I swear I didn't know this. I thought they broke it last weekend. While the team easily exceeded capacity in ticket sales, those like me who just needed one seat could still find scattered spots. I ended up in the first row of the upper deck, which provided the added benefit of as much leg room as I could ask for.

I'd been to the ballpark once before. My dad stopped there and we walked around on the way back to my parents' home from a Reds game. The stadium was under construction at the time, so it was easy enough to walk into what would become the outfield seating area and see what progress had been made. Until last night that was the only time I'd seen the place.

I arrived closer to first pitch than I preferred, and I didn't have a chance to look around the bordering area to see how it's thrived since the team's arrival. Based on some other parts of downtown Dayton that I've seen, this portion has definitely fared a lot better.

When it comes to minor league games, I can't say that I have a vested interest in who wins. The Dragons are a Cincinnati Reds affiliate, but old hometown loyalty was the main factor in my cheering on the team. (Plus, to do otherwise would have been rude.) I was there simply to enjoy a fine night outside watching baseball.

In this respect the Dragons management mount a worthwhile production. Maybe it's being overly familiar with (and mostly bored by) the between innings shenanigans at Reds games and unfamiliar with the Dragons way of doing things, but this minor league team seemed more inspired with how they passed the downtime. Granted, they're not dealing with breaks as long as those in the big leagues. They're also not facing as many restrictions that would prevent an MLB team from having kids race Big Wheels from first to third or putting three toddlers onto a padded racetrack in the third base foul territory. The toddler race might have been the best of the activities because it didn't work. The kids knocked their helmets off and basically refused to perform.

After the end of the fifth, when the game was now official, the announcement came that the Dragons had broken the consecutive sellout record of 814 previously owned by the NBA's Portland Trail Blazers. Balloons were released, and streamers were shot into the stands. The Dragons came onto the field and applauded the fans. At this level the players turn over on the team far more than in the majors. I doubt anyone out there was in Dayton five years ago, let alone when the streak started. That doesn't matter. The message was clear that the organization is grateful for how the community has embraced the team.

I would have loved it if this team had been in place when I was growing up. The Reds are about an hour's drive from my hometown, and they would have still been my primary team. Still, to have a local team that you could seen more frequently and for less money would have been a dream. I imagine as a teenager I would have made a point to go to games as much as possible.

I haven't lived in the Dayton area since 1993, but I want to see it do well. I know it's been hit hard by losses in manufacturing, and parts of town definitely look the worse for wear than what I remember. Going to the ballpark, though, let me take some pride in what used to be home and know that the dedication I feel for my chosen teams seems to be consistent with how people there accept their teams.

I don't need to drive to Dayton to see professional baseball. The Reds, much as they're aggravating me these days, will always be where most of my fanatical baseball energies will be focused. Columbus has a minor league team and a nice new stadium of its own. Who knows when I'll be back to a game in Dayton again. Every now and then, though, it'd be nice to return and see how a sport I love has blossomed where I used to live.

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.

Play ball

The baseball season began in dramatic fashion Thursday for my Cincinnati Reds. A two-out, three-run home run in the bottom of the ninth snatched a win from what was looking like defeat. What a way to kick off a year in which a lot of hope and confidence is invested in this team.

Tonight I headed down to the second game of the season. A winning result was achieved without such showmanship, but who cares about style as long as the game ends with right team on top? That said, it was a good, fast game.

Perhaps most enjoyable was the atmosphere in the ballpark. The Reds have tried to make the second game an event--Opening Night--in order to bring people out after the highly in-demand Opening Day game. It worked, although it wasn't simply good marketing. The fact that almost 38 thousand turned out certainly had something to do with the expectations for this season.

Those hopes had the stadium hopping in a way that I don't remember seeing in the regular season, especially this early in it. The crowd seemed more engaged and vocal, which made it more fun to there. So this is what it's like to be on top, or at least have a good claim for it.

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.

October

Although I have good reason for focusing on the bad news that's come my way in recent weeks, I ought to keep in sight the good things coming up this month.

For example, the Cincinnati Reds will compete in the Major League Baseball playoffs for the first time in fifteen years and I'm going. I'll also be attending if they advance to the NLCS. I've waited a long time to see the Reds return to the postseason and a longer time to witness it in person. Now let's hope their performance isn't a complete letdown and that it isn't too chilly.

It could be too much of a good thing. There's the potential for the NLCS games to conflict with the concert tickets I have to see the reunited "classic" lineup of Guided by Voices, a band on my list of all-time favorites, and Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan. I'm look forward to those shows, but I'll have some decision-making to day if games and concerts overlap. I saw GBV plenty of times in their heyday and could probably clear some pretty good money scalping the ticket, but then again, the more likely conflict is with the Campbell/Lanegan show. As a big Belle & Sebastian fan, I'd like to see their former member with the former Screaming Trees front man. Still, if all problems were like this...

Movies ought to start getting better this month as the awards contenders begin to trickle out. Exhibit A: The Social Network.

Tomorrow I hope to have a better feel for what the future may hold. Fingers crossed that it's positive. Toes crossed too.

Looking toward October

Stressed. Busy. Worn out.

But the Reds clinched a spot in the playoffs tonight, the first time in fifteen years, so there's that.

Lottery winner

My straw was drawn in the lottery for the right to purchase National League Division Series tickets for the Cincinnati Reds. At least three other family members put their names in the running, but they all came up empty-handed. It's not anything--I won the opportunity to spend money--but regardless, I take some pleasure from being randomly selected.

Buying the tickets won't imperil the Reds' chances of making the postseason before mathematically securing their berth, but doing this gives me brief pause because in 1999 I succeeded at buying tickets for the NLDS. Everything looked good for qualifying for the play-offs. Then the team melted down, was forced to play a tiebreaker game, and failed to get there. *sad trombone*

It has been a little bit of a curse as I coordinated how many tickets I will need to pony up for in the morning. (Look, three prepositions in a row!) One of my brothers really wanted me to buy a the maximum, which is a fairly hefty outlay of money that I wasn't comfortable doing, even if I'd eventually be reimbursed. I also don't want to deal with the hassle of scalping the extras, especially in a short window. Plus, it feels like that's the greedy way to go, particularly since I didn't do anything but drop my name in the virtual hopper.

So, if all goes well, I'll get to witness some postseason baseball in person for the first time. Finally.

Pete

Baseball has always been my favorite sport. As a kid it was the one I played the most in organized leagues. I spent countless hours throwing a tennis ball against the side of the house and concocting fantasy lineups and games. I collected baseball cards and pored over stats. I rooted for my favorites, the Cincinnati Reds, and got to make the trip south to attend a game or two each year.

Today marks the 25th anniversary of a big day for the Reds. On this day in 1985 Pete Rose broke the all-time record for career hits by collecting number 4192. The hard-nosed ballplayer was a key member of the Big Red Machine of the '70s, an era still first and foremost among many of the franchise's fans. That he was a hometown boy made it all the more special for Cincinnatians. His hustling brand of play--he would run to first when getting a base on balls rather than walk--continues to define what many Reds fans ask from the local nine. An average player who exhibits such qualities can become a fan favorite disproportionate to his actual skill or value to the team.

By the time I was following baseball with the kind of fervor that kids can have, Pete was playing in Philadelphia. Who knows whether he would have been my favorite if he'd still been with the Reds, although I expect I still would have gravitated to Johnny Bench, unquestionably my all-time favorite. Pete eventually returned to play and manage in Cincinnati, so while I took to him as a member of my team, I didn't have the same fan relationship with him that those who lived and died with the ball club in the '70s have.

That night of Pete's record-breaking hit I sat in front of the wooden console television with a tape recorder and microphone. I was going to record my own call of his record-breaking hit. I don't remember the assignment, but I recall that I was doing this to turn in for a junior high English class. I still have the tape, although I'm far too scared of listening to it to dare do so. I know that I would put the recorder on pause or stop it altogether in that down time when announcers demonstrate their skill, but hey, I was twelve. It was pretty exciting to see Ty Cobb's long-held record fall--of all the sports, baseball is the best connected to its history--and just two days later I went to a doubleheader at Riverfront Stadium and could see the circled and marked spot on the Astroturf where the historic hit landed.

Four years later the hit king who played like he would run through a brick wall collided with allegations that he had bet on baseball (and on his team) while managing the Reds. He was banned from baseball and consideration for the Hall of Fame, a place where he deserves to be based on his performance on the field. For years Pete denied gambling on baseball, but the stubborn aggressiveness that defined him as a player didn't suit him well in confronting the evidence.

Many Reds fans continue to hold a grudge against baseball's higher-ups for keeping Pete out of the game, particularly the Hall of Fame. The Reds themselves seem to go along begrudgingly with the ban, although there's a passive-aggressive tension at the ball park. The back of the scoreboard has a big picture of the bat and ball used for hit 4192. Apparently there's a rose garden in the spot where the historic hit fell. Pete's name may not be on display, but you can bet that most people know what these things represent.

Long ago I stopped caring whether Pete was reinstated or permitted to be voted on for enshrinement in Cooperstown. If anything, I sort of resent the stain he is on the organization on a national level. One of the best known players in the lengthy history of the franchise wagered on games in which he played a significant role. (Yes, I know he claims to have always bet on the Reds, but casting any doubts on the integrity of games' outcomes is the worst thing sports professional can do at their jobs.)

For me, over the years it's become more about how he refused to come clean about what he did--and then confessed when he had something to sell--than the offense itself. Granted, betting on baseball while managing a team is extremely slimy, and I fully support keeping him from having any role in the game. Should his accomplishments as a player put him in the Hall? Of course. Does it bother me that he's not in it? No. Plus, for those who still get bent out of shape about it, he's represented a decent amount in the museum.

An exception to the ban was made tonight, thus allowing Pete to be on the field and have the anniversary of his record-breaking hit officially acknowledged. As great of a player as he was, it pains me as a Reds fan to see the team go out of its way to recognize someone who has brought a lot of disrespect to them and the city. Yes, I realize that many still love him and view him as a victim, but such blind idolatry will pass in a generation.

While I don't think there's any need to lift the ban of him being involved in an official capacity or on his Hall eligibility, maybe that's what baseball needs to do. Just as long as he can't hold a job in the game, it could be best for everyone. The silly notion of Pete being wronged in all this will start to vanish, the Reds can trot him out for events honoring his and their past, the Baseball Writers of America can do their job and weigh the character issue when voting on his Hall worthiness, and fans like me can feel like we've finally moved on from this mess.

The Friendly Confines

As a lifelong baseball fan, I'm very familiar with Wrigley Field. The stadium, built in 1914 and home of the Cubs since 1916, is hallowed ground among fans of the sport. The ivy-covered outfield wall, the mostly manually operated scoreboard, day games, and bleacher bums...they're all part of the place's rich lore.

I've seen Wrigley Field countless times on television, but until last Friday I'd never set foot inside it. The strange thing is that after all this time peering into the home of the Cubs via telecasts, looking upon the field from the stands felt like something I'd done hundreds of times before. I guess it was kind of a deja vu moment. Here I am again for the first time.

My dad and I began our journey from the South Bend airport, which is where we picked up the South Shore train. About two and a half hours later we arrived in Millennium Station. Emerging from the train station, it felt like walking onto a movie set with tall buildings towering over us and the tracks and platforms for The 'L' framing some streets. Not entirely sure of which way to go to catch the red line train to the stadium, we followed people in Cubs jerseys based on my assumption that they were probably going the way we needed to be headed.

Within another fifteen or twenty minutes we walked out of the next station, turned to our left, and there was Wrigley. As you would expect, plenty of people were congregated outside the stadium, whether they were taking in the sights or hawking tickets and other items. And this was two hours before the game's first pitch.

If I'd been better prepared, I might have had a better idea of where we'd eat. Instead we popped into a pizza place across the street from the stadium and each got a single huge slice and pop for $5. As far as cheap, unpretentious eats by a ballpark go, this got the job done and was more localized than the Subway my dad initially suggested. Plus, I suppose it conveyed the big city experience and the neighborhood one that's unique to Wrigley.

Once inside the differences between it and pretty much any other stadium one will visit were immediately apparent. The concourses and ramps aren't as big. There are few concession and restroom facilities in the upper deck. All video highlights and replays must be viewed on monitors hanging in the stands. The seats themselves are a little narrower than those found in modern stadiums. Oh, and there are a fair number of columns to obstruct views. (I thought I'd be smart and buy tickets on the end of the row, which turns out to be where columns are placed. The two seats next to us were empty, so we didn't have to put up with a severely obstructed angle.)

Even without many of the modern stadium amenities, I really enjoyed being in this cozy little ballpark. All I really missed was being able to see replays and the radar gun readout. I appreciated the lack of elements that try to make a ball game the full entertainment experience. Who needs t-shirt cannons, dancing mascots and prize patrols, loud music, kiss cams, and the like when the game itself will do? I'm not completely opposed to all that other stuff, but the sheer volume of it becomes suffocating and detracts from what you are, in theory, there to see.

Wrigley's charms are from another era, and it benefits from its seats being mostly filled with enthusiastic fans. Let's not get carried away in praise of the place, though. Its specialness comes from being one of the last remaining old-time ballparks, one where you feel like you're seeing a game more or less the way that your grandparents and before might have taken one in. (My dad, who was also attending a game there for the first time, mentioned that it reminded him of the long-gone Crosley Field.)

When we arrived up top to get to our seats, the usher told us that we were free to wander around. Other than getting different perspectives on the field, there wasn't much else to see. The small patio that is underneath and behind the press box affords the opportunity to gaze out at the city and the neighborhood. A concession area with slightly more offerings than the small stands near the seats down the lines is about the only other draw.

Still, you get the sense that the team and its employees know what they have in this nearly century-old stadium even when considering its inconveniences. The spot has seen plenty of Cubs losing--which it also did on this day, as my visiting Reds won--yet its ability to function as a time machine for however much longer means more to the people walking through the turnstiles than any wins or snazzy updates to the yard could ever provide.