Fan-Tastic, Part 2

Fun Fact: Rain Delays don't last forever.  Fun Fact #2: Rally Towels are very absorbent.

When 30,000 baseball fans get together, one or two will turn out to be jerks.

Not you and me, of course. But, you know, other guys.

I recently wrote about how we are much better behaved today than our grandparents and great-grandparents were. Click here.

A hundred years ago, the unwritten rules for baseball fans were essentially: “Don’t kill anyone. But, if you do – and we know these things happen – please keep bloodshed to a minimum. Also, if you have the Spanish flu, tuberculosis, or the plague, please stay home.”

The only written rule was this:

colored whites sign

That rule’s gone.

But, there are plenty of other rules today.

Good rules. (We don’t care what your great-grandparents brought to the games, leave your guns and knives at home.”)

Weird rules. (No full bodysuits in Cincinnati.)

bodysuit

(Not so fast there, Reds fan.)

And, dictatorial ones. (For a game that segregated fans for years with “Coloreds Only” signs, they really shouldn’t be so self-righteous when it comes to what WE can put on OUR signs.)

These things are banned in pretty much every major league ballpark:

Thermoses, things in glass, hard-sided coolers, noisemakers, fireworks, guns and knives, anything that explodes, anything that could kill you (except, apparently, trans fats and chewing tobacco), anything that could put out someone’s eye.

Also specifically restricted in most ballparks:

Standing or sitting in the aisles, in the portals, or in the tunnels. Sitting in a location other than your ticketed seat.

Running onto the field of play (clothed or unclothed).

Throwing stuff onto the field.

Foul language.

“Disruptive behavior.”

Intoxication.

Inappropriate public displays of affection.

Skateboards (except at San Francisco’s AT&T Park where you may stow your ’board under your seat).

Brooms. (Exceptions are made in some parks if the team is going for a sweep. Oakland’s O.Co Stadium says no full-size brooms, but little “whiskbrooms” are OK. Clearly, a grandmother writes their rules.)

Fishing nets. ~ Chase Field, PhoenixCoors Field, Denver

Beach balls.

“Culturally insensitive attire.” ~ AT&T Park, San Francisco

“Food that might be thrown as a projectile … (i.e., oranges, apples and other fruits).” ~ Petco Park, San Diego

“Any fruit or vegetable larger than a grapefruit” unless it is sliced. ~ Coors Field, Denver

“Loud or lengthy” cell phone calls. ~ U.S. Cellular Field, Chicago White Sox

Hairspray. ~ Marlins Park, Miami

Inflatable dolls. ~ Petco Park, San Diego.

stay classy

You stay classy, San Diego.

“Confetti or Glitter” ~ Yankee Stadium, New York

The Pittsburgh Pirates specifically ban footballs from PNC Park. Good for you, Pittsburgh. Footballs should just be banned, period.

The Washington Nationals encourage you to sit still: “Be a team player – Restrict movement in the seating area to breaks in the action.”

The Philadelphia Phillies will let you bring handmade signs, but they provide a lengthy list of guidelines on what your sign may say, its size, what it can be made of, and how you can display it. No “fighting words,” they warn.

“Citizens Bank Park is a baseball ballpark and not a forum for public discussion.”

The Houston Astros insist that your sign must “support” the team or a player and be in “good taste”.

(Trying to come up with a sign supporting the Astros? How about this: “Well, at least you’re not the Rangers.”)

Most places restrict “wrapped gifts.” The Kansas City Royals, recognizing you might be celebrating a birthday at Kaufmann Stadium, earnestly suggest “gift bags” instead.

The Mets allow diaper bags “with children.” I don’t know where to go with this, because I didn’t even know diaper bags could procreate.

St. Louis’ Busch Stadium has a pretty short prohibited list. Leave your big bags and weapons home. That’s about it. Have at it, Cardinals fans!

Oh, except for this:

“Visiting team fans are our guests. Harassment of the visiting team or their fans will not be tolerated and may result in ejection.”

Cardinal harassing is, apparently, a-ok. You may now harass John Lackey with abandon.

The Angels and Dodgers invite you to bring your crappy cameras and iPhones, but no lenses that are longer than 4” (Angels) or 6” (Dodgers), please. The Tampa Rays allow lenses that are 12”. (The better to fully capture the Trop’s Teflon roof.)

The Yankees invite you to bring whatever size lens you like.

Visit the Minnesota Twins’ website and they will offer you security rules for the Metrodome.

metrodome

They haven’t played there since 2009 and it was permanently deflated earlier this year.

The Mets continue to have tight security at Shea Stadium.

shea

Shea was torn down in 2009.

Most teams explain that the only animals allowed are service animals (except for special “barks in the parks” events).

Miniature horses are specifically welcome at Petco Park in San Diego, as long as they are serving a direct service role. (Slacker horses? Not allowed.)

service miniature horse

By DanDee Shots [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

(Yes, service horses wear sneakers!)

A big tail wag to the Chicago White Sox who allow service animals at U.S. Cellular Field and “offer a Pet Check service for other types of animals.” 

stevie relaxing

Stevie hopes this “pet check” includes snacks and a nice brushing.

Then there’s the Toronto Blue Jays. What a way to ruin a post, what with your “We’re a friendly place and we want you to be happy” rules.

They even promise to greet us with a cheery “How’s it goin’?”

hows it going

(My friend Susie swears that no one in Canada really says “How’s it goin’?”  She’s from Canada, she should know.)

They seem almost apologetic to be restricting anything, and when they do, it’s really just to keep you tidy.

Your own food is welcome, “as long as the items are wrapped, bagged or left inside a container to avoid spillage.” See? They just want to keep mustard off your shirt.

But, there is one odd Toronto rule:

“For obvious safety concerns, guests are not permitted to throw any objects around or within the Rogers Centre seating areas (e.g., baseballs, beach balls, shoes, seat cushions, hats, food, drinks, ice, coins, etc).”

Coins? Shoes? Ice? (There’s a lot of ice in Canada.)

This is ironic since Toronto is fast becoming known for having the worst, drunkest, throwingest fans in baseball(Sorry, Philly.)

Hey, mind the rules, Toronto fans. Don’t throw your beer at Nate McLouth.

nate

And, here’s the one you’ve been waiting for …

Earlier this season, the Texas Rangers “banned” fans from doing the wave.

wave2

Yippee!

 

Divine Discontent Gets A Day Off … (almost)

“Any writer worth his salt writes to please himself. … It’s a self-exploratory operation that is endless. An exorcism of not necessarily his demon, but of his divine discontent.”  ~ Harper Lee

First off, thank you to that reader who emailed me last night to tell me he can snap his fingers. (This, in response, to my heartfelt admission yesterday.) I exorcise my divine discontent … and for this, you taunt?  Truly? Truly?

So, what’s new in divine discontent today?

This.

I’m not sure that it’s ok to unleash fireworks at midnight on New Year’s Eve/Day.  I mean, sure, set off some whistling Moonshine Bottle Rockets, Blazing Rebel Fountains with all the pretty colors, a few of those nameless ashy, snakey things. Prairie Fire cones, Nuclear Sunrise candles. Go ahead. Sparklers? Sparkle your pants off.

No, I’m talking armaments. That sound like – or could possibly have actually been – cannon fire.

I went to bed before midnight because I taught Yoga this morning.

But, I awoke at midnight to the sound of shelling. Wait, what? Grant’s marching toward Richmond again?

The booming, wall-rattling shelling was coming from our neighbor’s house, about a quarter-mile and one full cow pasture away.

Is that really necessary?

Are you trying to kill the old year … or the new one?

So, when I got up at 6:00 a.m. today, I suggested that I might go outside and lay on my car horn to greet my new year and wake the neighbors.

Editor/Husband suggested that I not do this: “They have a cannon.”

Editor/Husband would like to share this cannon joke with you. Click here

(He tried to tell it to me at midnight, but I just wanted to go back to sleep.)

Let’s start the year …

First up, baseball.

Yesterday, I exorcised my baseball discontent … giving the Baltimore Orioles’ owner some chin music for being a cheapskate, skinflint, and tightwad (these all mean different things, by the way, and he is all of them).

But, let me begin 2014 on a positive note.

I love the Orioles annual pet calendar. Proceeds support BARCS, Baltimore’s animal shelter, and animal welfare organizations are dear to my heart.

But, here’s the thing. To produce the calendar means that the Orioles must do the photo shoots and get everything to press well in advance. (Spoiler alert: teams can change, BARCS calendars cannot.)

The result is a beautiful calendar of Orioles posing in last year’s summer sun with handsome rescue dogs and bushels of adorable kitties.  (It’s clear the low-ranking rookies often end up with the kittens … don’t think Stevie and I haven’t noticed.)

I opened up the 2014 calendar today, and look at Mr. January and Mr. January!

Nick & Nate Mr. Januaries

Oh.

It’s the newest Washington National Nate McLouth.

(In 2013, pitcher Jake Arrieta was traded to the Cubs just as his month as Mr. July was beginning. Jim Johnson – see, I told you I’m not done with this – had just completed his Mr. November reign when he was traded to the A’s on December 2.)

Stevie & Jim Johnson

Stevie is not happy about the Jim Johnson trade either … or the lack of calendar cats.

In previous calendars, most players enjoyed their own month. This year, there seems to be more two-players-to-a-month sharing. The size of the team hasn’t changed, so maybe the Orioles are now thinking, “Yikes, let’s just stuff a few players on the page and hope that at least one of them is still around come next year.”

But, back to being positive.

I love my Orioles calendar. (But, boy, I’ll miss Nate. And, Jim.)

Just 44 days until pitchers and catchers report.

Next up, Yoga.

I taught Yoga this morning. It was great!

Yoga Is Full Sign

And, finally, Life.

Have a great 2014.

(See, wrapped them all up again.)

Divine Discontent can have the rest of New Year’s Day off!

Lamar

Lamar says “hey.”

Baseball’s Beautiful. But, The Off-Season Stinks.

“I love baseball. You know, it doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s just very beautiful to watch.” ~ Leonard Zelig, from the movie Zelig *

When baseball is a game, it is good. It is beautiful.

The grass is green, the sun is warm. Just a game. A beautiful, simple, splendid game.

But, when it’s the off-season, baseball stinks. Players are tucked away and resting up (some are playing golf, some are signing multi-multi-multi-million-dollar deals).

They become a commodity. This one gets traded. This one gets bought. This one is left on the shelf like a sad, dusty bottle of Justin Beiber cologne just hoping someone needs a desperation gift on Christmas Eve.

It sort of makes me uncomfortable when humans are treated like products. (I know, that’s the point of business, right? I’m awful at business.)

The off-season is like a soggy wad of hairball trapped in my throat.  (Editor/Husband does not believe that I can know what a hairball feels like, but I’ve seen my cats get all buggy-eyed, rear back, and start to vomit. I’m pretty sure I feel the same way right now.)

I hate the off-season.

The Baltimore Orioles traded away Jim Johnson, their closer, to Oakland, even though I specifically asked them not to.

??????????

photo by me, 8/25/13

Bye, Jim.

I’m a big Jim Johnson fan. I’m a fan of bullpens and relievers in general. I’m still pretty steamed over this.

(And, yes, I’m looking forward to the “I told you so” blog post that I’ll write next season when Jim has a great year in Oakland. And, I hope Oakland will fix its sewage-in-the-dugout thing before Jim gets there. Dear Oakland, he’s used to nicer accommodations.)

The Orioles let their Left Fielder Nate McLouth go to the Washington Nationals.

??????????

photo by me, 8/25/13

Bye, Nate.

Yeh, I’m kinda sore about this, too.

But, they got a new left fielder guy. A guy from the Royals. So maybe I’ll write about him next season.

The Orioles then were about to sign a new guy to be their closer.

Yay, it’s Christmas! We have a new closer under our Christmas Tree!

Grant Balfour, oddly enough, was Oakland’s closer last season. We were ready to sign him last week. Then something went wonky during his physical (which often happens when you’re a I-can-see-the-hill-but-I’m-not-quite-over-it 36-year-old pitcher with a shoulder that’s been knitted back together with pins and needles) and the Orioles pulled the deal.

And, then began the kerfuffle.

Let me share the kerfuffle highlights:

Orioles: We are not happy with the results of the physical and we are looking elsewhere.

Balfour: I am healthy.

Orioles: You are not.

Balfour: I am too.

Orioles: Are not.

Balfour: Am too.

This has been going on since Thursday.

I don’t like all the off-season shuffling and wheeling and dealing and trading and moving things around.

When I fell in love with baseball, it was when Cal Ripken was the Orioles’ shortstop. And, every day and every game and every season – year in and year out – he was the Orioles’ shortstop. I like things “just so.” I like my Cal Ripkens to be back every spring.

Sigh.

Now, I have nothing under my baseball Christmas tree.

But, Manny Machado’s knee is healing up. So, that’s a good thing.

mannyrehab

“Machado’s Road To Recovery” ESPN, 12/10/13 (click to watch)

Watch Manny’s knee and his rehab here.

And, that’s the news from baseball. I’ve been monitoring the baseball tweet-and-trade machine, so you don’t have to.

Just 53 days ‘til pitchers and catchers report.

* Zelig is a wonderful movie. Woody Allen. 1983. You should watch it. (It has nothing to do with baseball. Really.)

zelig

Free Baseball: “I Hate The All Star Game” Edition

“I disliked the All Star Game before it meant something (like most of my life). Now that it ‘means’ something I both hate it and think it is useless.” ~ our friend Jay

Who hates a vacation? Our friend, Jay.

Baseball is a 162-game, six-month undertaking. (Eight months, if you count spring training and if you are good enough to make it to the post-season.)

Tucked into that stretch is a four-day break that includes the All Star Game. That little baseball vacation begins Monday.

Our friend Jay is a Red Sox fan. He hates the All Star Game because it temporarily stops the “real” baseball season. But, he does have lots of very good qualities, too.

I am pretty sure that I am a baseball fan because of him. I sat next to him at the very first major league game I attended. It was some 25 years ago.

I have been pestering him with baseball questions ever since.

He always responds. Patiently. Kindly. Wisely. (If you ask him how to throw a screwball, he will provide detailed instructions. If you ask about baseball broadcasters he will rate nearly every one. The Red Sox broadcasters are ranked quite highly, incidentally.)

Jay plays. Jay watches. Jay knows a lot about baseball.

Occasionally my questions stir him up.

Like when I asked about the All Star Game.

For me, I like the mini-vacation. I like watching the All Stars (especially when five of them are Orioles). It’s a long season; I don’t begrudge the players a tiny break at this mid-way point.

But, Jay thinks …

Well, here, he’ll tell you …

Baseball is an endurance contest — 162 games in six months. And then, in the middle of that we give players (making $16 million or even a paltry $1 million) four days off to go fishing and rest up? What’s that all about?

The greatest thing about baseball is that they play every day (and sometimes twice — in what other sport do they say ‘Let’s play two’?) But, no, the All Star Game says, “We pause from this important season to bring you this unimportant game.” (And, no, having it determine home-field advantage does not mean this is for real. If it was for real Clayton Kershaw would pitch seven innings.)

The touchstones for me for baseball are the “Morning Question” – how did the Sox do last night? – and the “Afternoon Question” – who is pitching tonight? I look for the box scores in the paper every day. How many games up (or behind) are we? … All winter I wait for baseball season to start so I can go through my daily baseball rituals — and then in the middle of July they stop it.

[Former Red Sox] Manny Ramirez’s grandmother used to “die” each year at All Star time so Manny could go home to grieve with the family. My attitude is like Manny’s Granny’s – “Who cares about the All Star Game? Nothing important is happening so I might as well die again this year.”

(Jay is exaggerating … but here’s the back story on Manny. And, here.)

The best thing about baseball is that there is a game every day, so let’s play. (That is why I hate days off, rain outs, and All Star Games.)

These are just the highlights. Jaylights.

But, I’m feeling sort of bad that Jay will have to endure the next four days without baseball while the rest of us are watching the Home Run Derby (Monday) and the All Star Game (Tuesday).

So, here are some things that can pass the time until the season begins again on Friday:

1) Watch NY Giants Pitcher Carl Hubbard strike out Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, and Jimmy Foxx in order. It was 1934 at the Polo Grounds. It was the All Star Game. Watch it here.

hubbel2asg

Or, watch Babe Ruth hit the very first homerun in the very first All Star Game in 1933. Watch here.

2) Explore the arts. Mike Carmichael of Alexandria, Indiana has been painting a baseball – coat by coat – since 1977. The baseball now has more than 23,000 layers of paint and weighs more than 4,000 pounds. If you visit, he’ll let you paint a layer on the ball. See it here.

painted baseball

Photo courtesy of Mike Carmichael

Perhaps the baseball in your garage is artwork in the making.

3) Learn a second language. Orioles outfielder Nate McLouth speaks fluent Spanish, allowing him to chat easily with his Latin American teammates and give interviews to the Spanish-speaking press. While most foreign-born players must learn some English to get by in the game, very few American players take the time to learn their teammates’ languages. Nate es maravilloso. Click aquí.

McLouthSpanish3

4) If you can’t watch baseball, play it. In Nicaragua, baseball is El Deporte Rey, the king of sports. NPR’s Only A Game recently had a story about a camp in Nicaragua that allows boys and girls a chance to slip away from the hard realities of poverty for a week of baseball. “[T]his chance to play on a real field coached by a real professional will make a beautiful memory. And even in wealthy countries, beautiful memories aren’t easy to come by.”  Listen here.

nicaragua camp

Jay is my baseball guru (except for that Red Sox thing). He has a blog too. Although he only updates it when he goes to baseball camp each winter. He should keep it up year-round. Visit it here and pester him to write more.

geezer baseball

Jay’s Blog.

Enjoy the All Star Game (or not). “Real” baseball resumes on Friday.

 
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