Attending a baseball game – any game whether minor league or MLB – is fun. Pleasant weather. A few barley pops. Friends or family. It all adds up to a wonderful time at your favorite ballpark. Some might even call such a day “perfectâ€.
But there are ways to improve on a seemingly perfect day.
It all starts with game selection. In this case, the game was a weekday afternoon affair – a business man’s special – between the hometown Tigers and the Baltimore Orioles. There’s just something right about bailing out of work early and spending an afternoon in the sun. Anything you might enjoy is made multiple times better when you realize you could be sitting in your office or wallowing in cubicle purgatory. And nothing guarantees a toast from friends quite like the statement, “Hey, this sure beats sitting at work.†Hoorahs all around.
The second ingredient is the right crowd. I love my wife but an afternoon of playing hooky isn’t the same as a twilight game with the family. Throw in a couple friends or coworkers and you’ve got an unexpected party just waiting to happen. You’re supposed to be at work, but you’re with friends and having a good time. It’s as if you’re getting away with something. Let the good times roll.
The final piece of our uncomplicated puzzle is often the hardest to acquire: a free ride. A buddy of mine who shall remain nameless so as to protect his status as golden goose (you’re safe with me, Larry) has access to a corporate account to entertain clients. In the event a client can’t attend a given event (such as a baseball game in the middle of the workday), I’m occasionally called upon to see these funds are used in the way corporate America intended. Long story short, we’re drinking beer and gorging ourselves on the company nickel. And I can’t even tell you what my buddy sells. (I love the world of big business and corporate responsibility.)
So we’re skipping work, we’re with friends and the tab is covered. That’s a recipe for destruction. Sign me up.
I showed up to the office intent on working. A few phone calls to vendors and a company meeting later, I was staring at the clock and counting the minutes until it was time to hit the door. 11:00 finally graced my clock and I was on the run.
My coconspirators for this odyssey were the previously mentioned Larry (still attempting to hold onto his “The Guy†status) and afternoon game newbie Rob. Larry’s your typical soulless sales puke. Rob, on the other hand, is anything but typical. Imagine what those guys from Jackass will be like in their forties. Then remove most of their common sense and all their financial ambition and you’ll have an idea of Rob’s makeup. Between Larry’s drinking in an effort to grasp a bit of his stolen youth and Rob indulging because it’s free and he just doesn’t know any better, you can be assured I was in the care of responsible human beings.
(Bare in mind, I’m attempting to keep things light and friendly while I’m jotting in my notepad. To say my friends were less than cooperative is an understatement.)
11:56 – Touchdown in downtown Detroit. We’re in Larry’s ridiculously huge “I’m compensating for something†pickup truck that’s too tall to park in our favorite underground garage. $15 parking within 30 yards of a bar and 50 yards of the stadium? No thanks. Larry’s uncomfortable with his manhood so we’ll park three blocks away and pay $20.
11:57 – Good grief there are a lot of women going to the game today. For years, the best of the local “talent†could be found at Red Wings games. Then the Pistons came back into favor and the ladies relocated accordingly. Unfortunately, hockey and basketball are primarily played through the winter months and Detroit winters are particularly brutal. Getting “dressed up†for these events means wearing the heavy parka. This isn’t the case with baseball. The recent resurgence of the Tigers wasn’t just a godsend for the local baseball community, it’s given the lovely ladies a reason to dust off their favorite summer gear. On this particular day, girls were bringing their “Aâ€-game. It’s just one more reason to love baseball.
12:08 – We were finally settled in Chelie’s Chili, a local favorite owned by Detroit Red Wing defenseman Chris Chelios. It was crowded but in a good way, ideal for people watching. The bar staff rated an A for suggestive clothing and overall appeal. I’m told they can even serve beer but frankly they earned their tips without even acknowledging the patrons they’re supposed to be servicing. An already good day was just getting better.
12:15 – One of Larry’s coworkers was in the area and wanted to meet. “He’ll have an open tab,†Larry said. Unfortunately, this guy wanted to meet at a different bar. The pull of free beer was too much to resist. We left in search of another watering hole.
12:24 – “Fifth Avenue closed last year,†an attendant told us. The bar Larry’s buddy was supposedly sitting in didn’t even exist. Instead of sitting in Utopia, we were lost in the abyss.
12:31 – The Beer Hall is a bar within Comerica Park. Beer prices are on par with those throughout the park (which is to say, very expensive). The food is likewise. Add lethargic (and woefully unattractive) service to the mix along with a room completely devoid of any “talent†and you’ve got my top choice for pregame drinking. On the bright side, I wasn’t paying for the beer and I could have been at work so I really had no reason to complain.
1:00 – Wings, chips and salsa and beers; life could be worse. Hey, did you know they’re playing a ballgame today?
1:30 – We were still waiting for the tab. There’s nothing like service at the ballpark.
2:30 – 2-1 Orioles. I’ve just polished off a cheese and salsa nacho platter. Time for another beer and a bratwurst.
2:50 – Looking around the bleachers, it quickly became apparent the “talent†was to be found in the better (more expensive) areas of the park. Describing the bleacher creatures as “poor, huddled masses†was being generous.
??? – I had totally lost track of time. Fans were attempting to heckle Orioles outfielder Nick Markakis. The guys in front of us guessed his name was “Juan†or something. He’s of German and Greek ancestry. Does “Markakis†sound even slightly Hispanic in origin? Heckling is a dying art form.
(Later in the evening, I was enjoying another game on my too-often-viewed MLB Extra Innings and at one point the crowd in Cleveland had thinned enough for the mics to pick up the heckling of individual fans. The best quip came when Blue Jay’s outfielder Adam Lind was at the plate and a fan yelled, “I saw your dad on Hollywood Squares.†(Obviously this was a reference to Paul Lynde but it was good nonetheless. Even the Cleveland announcers had to chuckle.)
(As much as I hate explaining jokes, I’ll throw you a bone on this one as me and maybe one of Canon Fodder’s three readers found the humor in this. Here’s Lynde’s bio: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Lynde. If you read it and still don’t get the heckler’s point, well… forget it.)
3:30 – Time to hit the gates and beat the rush home. The Tigers were leading headed into the ninth. Though I’m not a fan of doing games Dodger-style (show up late and leave early), weekday games are the exception. I can get a pass from the wife so long as I’m home at the normal time as if I stayed at the office all day.
3:45 – Traffic. Luckily I spent my college years commuting downtown to school and learned more than a few alternate routes out of the city. Larry and Rob were treated to some of Detroit’s finer neighborhoods which is to say we entered areas where stoplights are merely suggestions.
3:54 – The checkup call from the wife. “Are you guys stopping for beers on the way home?†No way was I passing up an opportunity like that. If the wife gives an inch, take it and run.
4:13 – One last round. All-in-all, a great way to spend an afternoon. Larry put it best as we toasted and downed the last of our beers, “It’s better than being at work.â€
Just nine more business man’s specials to go.
Like what you’ve read so far? Turn some friends and family on to Canon Fodder. Have a question or comment? E-mail me at jeff@canon-fodder.com.
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