Tom Bridge: Baseball

Moving!

Wed, 16 Jul 2003 02:16:38 GMT

Update your linkbars, I'm moving to TypePad! Sorry Winer, your product just sucks too much. You can now find my regular blog at: cortana.typepad.com/rta You can now find my baseball blog at: cortana.typepad.com/baseball

Byrnes Hits For The Cycle!

Sun, 29 Jun 2003 23:08:35 GMT

Today, Eric Byrnes did something absolutely amazing, he hit for the Cycle. For those that aren't sure what I'm talking about, it's baseball. Byrnes had a single, two doubles, a triple and a homer. Here is his line from today:

Eric Byrnes	AB	R	H	RBI	BB	SO	LOB	AVG
	5	2	5	2	0	0	0	.336

Outstanding. He becomes the sixteenth Oakland Athletic to accomplish the feat. Well done Eric!

Baseball in the Rain

Sat, 14 Jun 2003 18:50:12 GMT

Last night I took my Dad and "Tiffany" to Camden Yards in Baltimore for the O's/Brewers game that was to start about 7. Our seats were three rows back from the outfield wall in the left field corner, just inside the foul pole. We got there just as the game was beginning, I struggled to get all of the names in my scorecard, right as it began to rain. They'd finished one batter as the heavens were riven open and rain began to pour. The delay was over an hour and the three of us sat under the overhang, watching the Miracle on 33rd St. and the history of Memorial Stadium on the many tv's strung up under the balcony.

The rain was heavy, large thick drops plummeting from the sky, creating small rivers in the aisles, a series of tiny waterfalls on the steps. The rain would go from heavy to light back to heavy again, interspersed with the amplified kettle-drum of thunder and the flash of lighting in the city. They crowded all of us under the overhangs, creating a ring of unhappy baseball fans lying in wait for the storm's abatement.

After about an hour we got the all-clear and enjoyed a few more innings of baseball before the rain struck yet again sending us through the downpour back to the car, but we got to see some baseball, enjoy the atmosphere of the Yards, and have hotdogs and as my Dad said "A day at the ballpark, even when it's raining is better than a day almost anywhere else." He's right.

The roar of thunder against the warehouse and resounding through the stadium, the taste of soft grilled onions and hotdogs on your tongue, and the smell of peanuts and sizzling meat on the grills in center field, that is a wonderous thing. Happy Father's Day, Dad!

Disappointment

Wed, 04 Jun 2003 19:50:36 GMT

When I awoke this morning, and read about Sammy Sosa corking his bat, I was disappointed. I was hurt. And I know that's not what Sammy meant to do, he was in a slump. You know the slump, when you go day after day after day without any success at work, or at home, or in the things you love. That feeling is dark-night-of-the-soul kind of stuff. The stuff that Preacher writes about every once in a while. It's somthing I think we all have dealt with in our lives.

However, Sammy seems to have done the wrong thing here. He cheated. He picked up a corked bat, and he went to the plate. Don't tell me he did it by accident, you can feel the ounce and a half difference in weight. Don't tell me why, just apologize, be forthright and we can get it on with our lives.

There will be those who condemn you for the steroids, and now some who do it for the corked bat. You've put a tarnish on your career. But you're still a damn fine player, and a good human being. I loved watching you and Mac punch it out in the summer of 1998. I loved that fall when you guys fought it out to be the home run king. There were several of us in Dr. Katz's PoliSci class that would be waiting on baited breath as we walked into class. "Did you hear? Sammy had another one!" or "Mac's picking up the pace!" That was a time in my life where I loved baseball more than anything else, and I loved you and Mac for making me care again.

So for that much, I will always have you to thank. Be the real deal, admit you were wrong and serve your suspension. Do any less and you'll damage the game further.

The Iron City, The Pirates, The Point

Sun, 25 May 2003 16:17:45 GMT

Pittsburgh is truly beautiful town this time of year. I enjoyed it in March when the trees were just budding, but you have to come here when the foliage is in its full canopy. Downtown is gorgeous, spread full with trees a lot like Washington is, and green and multi-colored with flowers.

After we left the Strip yesterday, we drove around downtown, er, I mean, dahntahn, and parked the car over across from PNC Park by the Clemente Bridge. Abandoning our wheels, we walked over to PPG Plaza to see the Dinomite Days sculptures that were going to be spread across the downtown area over the next few days. We took many pictures and enjoyed the children playing in the ever-changing pattern of the water-spouts that surround the Tomb of the Unknown Bowler, which while I realize this is not the proper name for the obelisk that stands there, it's rather charming.

From there we wandered on down to the Point State Park where Fort Duquesne/Pitt stood for a good long while, walked its old outline, left in bricks amid the grassy meadow that is the Park. We walked down to the Fountain, which was shooting water some 50 feet into the air, misting the entire area and creating a picturesque Saturday afternoon. Had the sun cooperated a little more to burn off all the mid-level clouds, we would have been in better shape, but as it was I was pretty impressed.

It was at this point that we headed down toward PNC Park, along the banks of the Youghiogheny River and up to the bright yellow suspension bridge named for Roberto Clemente. The walk across the bridge reminds me much of the walk into the Coliseum from the BART station. You come across, seeing the barbeque smoke rise from Center Field, vendors set up along the bridge selling peanuts and t-shirts for cheaper than in the ballpark. We came in through the Center Field entrance, our bags searched and secured. We picked up a program and scorecard (a quality scorecard, I might add) with the lineups and rosters.

We were taken to our seats by the usher, section 127, Row R, seats 24-5. The view from the third base line is incredibly striking, the city unfolded before you, the Free Markets building, PPG Plaza and Fifth Street Plaza buildings dominating the skyline beyond the bridge. The Pirates got off to a rough start, Jeff Suppan getting hit for 6 runs in the first two innings, and the consistent double plays (3 in 3 innings) that their batters hit into. Morris was looking very good, his curve and his fastball were hitting most of the time. I suppose what surprised me about Suppan was the fact that he was pitching a lot of first-pitch strikes, but he wasn't following through, instead of striking on with good pitches, he'd pitch around them until it was 3-1. He gave up too many walks. He got behind too much and that's what killed him.

I can't be quite effusive enough about PNC Park. The scoreboard is incredibly good, very high resolution, crisp images. Statistics galore, scores galore, details. There's a pirate that walks you through the half-inning entertainment, including Uncle Peg Leg's Shell Game, which makes those silly crabs in DC look like a joke, and an opening animation that you might expect from the upcoming Pirates of the Caribbean, set to O, Fortuna, which I rather enjoyed.

We came back today for the closing game of the series against the Cardinals, enjoying the sunshine on a Sunday afternoon. Sitting in the bleachers in left center, six rows from the fence, we got a little bit of sun and enjoyed a Pirates victory. I wish I could say that it was a fairly earned one, but the Cards were just not playing well. A few errors and several walks cost them the game, as five of the first six Pittsburgh runs were unearned.

Viña had to leave the game in the fifth, replaced by Miguel Cairo, after a collision at first base. I missed the incident (retrieving a footlong with peppers and onions) but I hope that he is okay. Lofton continued his hitting streak to 23 games Sunday afternoon with an RBI double to put the Pirates on top. It ended up being the difference in the game.

I'm definitely sorry to leave PNC Park and the 'Burgh, but I know that I will come back! Next trip: Old Forbes Field.

Miller Park and the Timber Rattlers.

Sat, 10 May 2003 04:39:35 GMT

Today my Dad and I had the opportunity to trek down to Miller Park in Milwaukee to take the ballpark tour. Our tourguide was a fella in his 40s named Brian who took us from the Hot Corner through the .300 club, the press box, the visitor's clubhouse and then onto the field and into the bullpen. It was a great experience and I'd really like to see the game played there. Click on the photo to see my pictures from the day. On our way back, we detoured through Appleton, WI to see Fox Cities Stadium, home of the single-A Timber Rattlers, part of the Seattle Mariners' organization and where A-Rod made his professional debut. We walked up to the ticket office and got seats for the evening's game against the Battle Creek Yankees. We arrived late (who starts a ballgame at 6:35?! Apparently the Wisconsin Timber Rattlers.) but our seats were stellar. We were in the first row just to the right of the screen, to the left of the dugout. Not too shabby. Cost of the seats? $15. For Two. Brats were $3.25 and a giant beer was $5.25. Major Leagues, take note.

We saw some pretty good ball and some pretty bad ball. But it was worth it for the atmosphere, and being closer than the pitcher to home plate. Look tomorrow for my May Day gallery!

Attendance Problems...

Tue, 29 Apr 2003 18:51:43 GMT

Baseball Musings has a bit up about stadium attendance being down this year. I'm really not all that surprised to tell you the truth. I decided I couldn't afford my season tickets in Baltimore this year, and had to give up my seats in right field that I so desperately loved. Time to cinch up the belt a bit, I said. But I realized the other day that it's not that I've got less money, it's that the trip to the ballgame is so damned expensive.

Tickets: $20 a piece to sit in the outfield.
Hot Dog: $4.25
Beer: $6ish
Soda: $4.50

If you look at it, I spent between $8 and $15 a game for each time I went. I decided I didn't want to pay that to see a third rate team play ball. Yes, Mr. Angelos, your Orioles aren't any good. They have rays of hope, in 'drigo Lopez and Jorge Julio, but you waste them by not building the team around them. Instead, you waste all of our time and hard-earned money by creating a team that last year couldn't even win more games than it lost. And you wonder why attendance is down this year? Your team sucks, build a ballclub that puts on a good show day in, day out and wins more than they lose and you stand a chance at getting me back in Baltimore. Because I won't pay $30 a week to watch the Orioles lose, and do so in an embarassing progression of bad play and bad at-bats.

Except that's not what this is about, really. I suspect that Angelos in fact isn't trying so that he can play poor little owner when it comes time to talk about DC baseball this fall. They're talking about building a brand new stadium downtown over on New York Avenue here, and likely I would sell my car to buy season tickets. Yes, I'm that desperate for baseball. I realize that this stands directly in opposition to my previously stated belief, as it is likely that the new Senators will likely spend a season or two sucking, however, since I won't have to expend a ton of effort getting to the ballpark, it becomes an impulse buy. As Apple removed the barriers to effective music buying, so now the new Senators would remove a barrier to getting me to the ballpark.

So, I suppose that's why I'm getting my Baseball fix on DirecTV instead of live and in person. It's much cheaper to watch at home.

The Best Words in English: Free Baseball

Fri, 25 Apr 2003 03:40:16 GMT

Ladies and Gents, there comes a time in every man's life when he is far from home and looking for a good time. Tonight, I returned from a long day in the field, knowing the Cards and Braves were playing at Turner Field. I stopped at the concierge desk of the Marriott Marquis to ask about directions, and he told me that my best bet was Marta and the shuttle bus, he handed me directions to the field and asked me if I'd bought my tickets yet. I said no, but that I hoped to get them at the door. He told me the game was sold out, but that it was my lucky day. He pulled out two tickets for the game. 11th row. Section 108, which is between the dugout and the screen. Wow.

I rushed off to Turner Field despite the threatening clouds and the partial raindrops. Catching Marta beneath Peachtree Center headed for Five Points and then the Braves Shuttle, I stopped to snap a picture of the station, which is rough-hewn rock with posts in the wall, quite striking as compared to the cement of the metro stations in DC. The Braves Shuttle is picked up from Underground Atlanta, which seemed to be a bizarre cross between an arcade and a street show, all on an acid-trip. It was bizarre. To make things more bizarre, you're driven through the shops on golf-carts piloted by teenaged girls in Braves uniforms. I was amazed.

Once on the way to Turner Field, you're dropped off at the gates and left to your own devices. The large brick façades of Turner Field are imposing, like Comerica Park, but not quite as majestic as Camden Yards. Once inside, you're treated to all the niceties of a modern ballpark. Concessions, Souvenirs, Condiments, you're golden. Once you walk out through the arch and into the field, though, it's a different story. It's a large field without being cavernous and definitely more regal than the coziness of Wrigley or the Jake.

We were under rain delay when I finally got to the seats, which was a bit of a bummer, but I was glad not to have missed any baseball. I put my bag down and went to get a dog and a coke. By the time I got back, they were rolling up the tarp and grooming the field to get the game started. This is what I love about baseball, it is as much a game of individuals as it is a team sport. The grounds crew was top notch, they were raking, tamping, chalking and adorning the field for the game, I was so impressed at their attention to detail. Each chalk line had to be perfect, each rake was drawn with intent and care, each base perfectly aligned and placed carefully.

I remember we'd go to the Coliseum and they'd chain-drag the infield and there were always four guys who would run and cover the infield with a sweep. At Turner Field, though, there were seven guys who would do this, their infield, despite the heavy rain, looked beautiful. They kept that field in fantastic shape in the pouring rain.

The fans that stuck it out despite the rain were fantastic. Three guys two rows back were huge Cardinals fans and were very vocal. Four guys in front of me had come from Fayetteville for the game, which is no small hike. The couple next to me had brought their young daughter who was just adorable through the whole thing.

The game itself was amazing. Mike Hampton pitched five innings of no-hit baseball before he finally gave up two runs. I thought they were going to call the game if the Braves were shut out in the bottom of the sixth, but sure enough, they put some hits together and scored a pair. That's when I packed it in, soaked to the bone, but loving every second of it.

Thanks much to the Marriott and to the Braves for a great game.

Of course, I took pictures. View them here

Springtime Baseball

Sat, 19 Apr 2003 22:38:48 GMT

The smell of springtime is drifting in through the open door on the balcony, I am ensconced on the couch where I've been taking up residence most of the day. Fortunately, the A's are on the tube (yet again) and are cleaning up on the Rangers. Is it just me, or can we beat the pants of these guys? After a 9-0 victory last night, in which Barry Zito went 9 full without allowing a run, no less, the A's are pounding the Rangers 12-2. The A's have scored in every inning but the first. Mulder seems to be shaping up, as he went 7 full allowing 2 ER but striking out 5. As it stands, the A's will play the Rangers again tomorrow on ESPN (allowing me to watch the entire trifecta) and then get a day off before six home games against Detroit and Cleveland.

10-8. Not bad. They've just finished their shellacking of the Rangers. For those that have not had the chance to utilize dictionary.com, that means "To strike repeatedly and severely; batter."

Couldn't have said it better myself.

Ahhhhh Saturday

Sat, 19 Apr 2003 17:47:01 GMT

So, it is Saturday here in Washington, and Jay and Dave and I had waffles and music this morning around noon. It's been a lazy day here. I stayed up way too late watching the Oakland A's and especially Barry Zito, who manhandled Texas with a brutal fastball/change-up combo.

This morning, post waffles, we headed over to the park and tossed the rock around. Ladies and Gents, this is what Saturdays in the spring are all about. Weather's a bit chilly and the field was a bit muddy, but it worked out okay in the long run.

It's also poker night, which means I've got to find some chips!

The Marvels of Satellite Television.

Mon, 14 Apr 2003 01:39:50 GMT

So, for most of my life I've been a cable customer. I grew up on Nickelodeon fed over an underground wire. Now, though, I've switched to DirecTV and I've just been addicted to it. Today I had my choice of 8 different baseball games, all on the local fox affiliate sports networks in their own jurisdictions. This weekend it was the Angels' broadcasters calling the game.

The quantity of technology in our lives is growing by the minute. Five years ago something like TiVo wasn't even on the horizon. Five years ago, the computers we're using now weren't even conceptualized. Five years ago, satellite television was a last resort, and painfully expensive.

What is just starting now that in five years will be everywhere and cheap? Will it be WiFi on the streets? I hope so. Downloadble albums? I hope so. Fibre to the curb? I hope so. But what am I missing? What else is there that we just can't see yet? In the past 20 years, we've rewritten business. In the past 20 years, we've rewritten personal entertainment. In the past 20 years, we've rewritten community. What's next?

Ahhhh Sunday afternoon baseball.

Sun, 13 Apr 2003 21:02:40 GMT

I am lounging on my couch, watching the A's/Angels game on the dish, enjoying an absolutely splendid Sunday afternoon. These are the pleasures in life, my friends. A little solitude, some nice weather, some baseball in the background and a clean house. It's been an incredibly productive day, getting five loads of laundry done, a round of dishes washed, my car cleaned from stem to stern, all courtesy of a beautiful day.

And now, off to fall asleep to the A's game.

Quote of the Day.

Sat, 05 Apr 2003 22:47:23 GMT

Quote of the Day goes to Greg Papa, "Whenever you leave your feet, though, it may be wild and wacky, but good things happen!" in reference Eric Byrnes' defensive play in the sixth on a ball hit by Wooten. He ended up with an assist, the play ran 7-6-3-4 and they got him and second. Incredible. Byrnesy was hot today, that's for sure.

The Chron on Bill King

Fri, 04 Apr 2003 17:46:52 GMT

The San Francisco Chronicle published an interview with my favorite person in Baseball, Bill King. He's been the voice of the A's just about as long as I've been alive, and has called the game during some of my happiest moments. Full of insight and poetry, Bill and Ray Fosse call the games for the A's now, and nothing gives me more joy than to listen to them. I missed it so much last year that when playoff time came around I shelled out $20 so I could listen to it on the web at MLB.com. "There's no greater satisfaction than at a critical moment . . . you have the right words and you see it right and you call it right, and that's when you walk out of the booth feeling, "Wow, it was a great day to be here."

Bill's "Holy Toledo", immortalized on Diamondvision at the Old Coliseum, was always my favorite. It was Bill and Lon Simmons that would toss it around in the event of a distinctive play.

Bill's been a constant with the A's for 22 years now, and hopefully will be for some time to come. Thanks so much Mr. King, for tirelessly following my baseball team around and telling me what they're up to when I can't be there. You have the one job I would drop everything in this world to pursue.

An Ionospheric Miracle

Fri, 04 Apr 2003 02:07:38 GMT

Tonight, coming home from choir rehearsal, I searched the AM dial for the Orioles game, hoping to catch the last of the game as I drove back from Falls Church along a darkened Lee Highway. My usual station, SportsTalk 980 was broadcasting a basketball game, so I searched using the manual controls on my radio, the automatic controls being worth less than nothing this evening, and I could find no baseball. Stopped at the Texaco for some gas, I fiddled with the dial searching and searching for a baseball game, that telltale crowd noise in the background and the dulcet tones of the play-by-play man.

It came in slowly, as I pulled back onto the road, I could hear it just a little, I pulled into the left lane, hoping to escape the hum of the powerlines over my head. There it was, baseball on the radio, I could hear them talking about a breaking ball and the 1-2 count. Suddenly it was crystal clear, almost like FM radio, the static all gone as I crossed over Harrison just a mile from home. It wasn't the O's game. It wasn't the Pirates game, that we get every now and again off a lucky bounce of the radio waves.

It was instead WSB AM 750, as I heard the station identification call, which is the Atlanta Braves home station in Atlanta some 650 miles to my southeast. A miracle of that blessed radio-reflecting layer of our atmosphere known as the Ionosphere. A crystal clear night here in Washington, with clear, cloudless, moonless skies, the announcers came in clear from a good long ways away. When I heard them talking of Frank Robinson, I was afraid I'd slipped into some time warp where he was still playing for the Reds, hitting .323 the year they went to the Series in '61. Playing at old Crosley Field, a minute ballpark by today's standards, holding just 30,000 fans at capacity.

I hoped, dreamed that I was listening to the Reds in '61, for in that ballpark, or on the end of the radio somewhere out there, was someone I never met, and someone I know quite well.

Because someone had to say it

Wed, 02 Apr 2003 19:51:09 GMT

From the Sac Bee coverage of last night's A's romp comes my favorite quote of all time: After an uninspiring spring in which he started 3 for 23, Durazo hit the second pitch he saw into the left-center-field bleachers, staking Hudson to a 2-0 lead in the second.
In the fifth, he launched a two-out, bases-loaded blast toward the same spot.
Though this one was 10 feet shorter, it banged off the top of the fence, cleared the bases and ended Garcia's night.
" 'Mongo' was an animal tonight," Hudson gushed. "Let him out of his cage, and he goes crazy."

Lovin' me some sportswriters, ladies and gents.

Ahhhh, Oakland A's Baseball

Wed, 02 Apr 2003 02:39:11 GMT

We've tuned into the A's game here tonight, using the DirecTV Extra Innings package. It's picking up the Fox Sports Net Northwest, and we've got the local Seattle announcers, who are a trip. Notes as follows.

Middle 2nd: Jack in the Box commercials, ah, how I miss 'em!

Bottom 2nd: The Coliseum looks pretty full tonight, but Mount Davis still offends me. Durazo comes out with a Bang! He didn't hit well in Spring Training, but I'll take a towering two-run blast whereever I can get it. The A's have been battling Garcia deep into the count consistently, it seems to be frustrating Garcia a good bunch, as he's getting lit up. Side note, Garcia seems to resemble The Rock.

Top 3rd: Mark Ellis is amazing. Holy mackerel.

Bottom 3rd: The Coliseum isn't quite as full as I'd thought. The lower levels are full, but the top deck thins out.

Top 4th: The A's infield is amazing. Ellis is a dynamo and Tejada to Ellis to Hatty is a great combo.

Top 5th: Hudson has gotten 12 of his 15 outs on ground balls. Hudson's at his finest when he can keep the ball down. Way to go Huddy.

Bottom 5th: I'm just realizing that the color man for Seattle's broadcasts is, of all people, former Oakland Atheltic Dave Henderson. HENDUUUUUUUUU. Bases Loaded with two out, not a great spot, but far from a bad one. Who's coming up? Durazo. Damn. 3 run double. 5 RBIs in two ABs. Man. Rock on.

Top 6th: Hendu is doing a great job with the color commentary, he's been spot on all game. Nice to see the M's get a great broadcaster.

Middle 6th: The Mariners' local ads have been a lot of fun. I really like the "Casual Friday" ads.

7th Inning Stretch: I like America the Beautiful better than God Bless America. Especially when they do more than one verse.

Bottom 8th: Hope they let Huddy finish it out. At 105 pitches, he's got another inning, I think.

Endgame: Game, set, match, Oakland. A shutout on Opening Day. Well done, Oakland.

Pictures from the snowstorm

Tue, 01 Apr 2003 16:34:46 GMT

Baseball in the Snow

Finally, the pictures!

Opening Day Mayhem

Mon, 31 Mar 2003 22:47:56 GMT

Opening Day for the Orioles was indeed nothing short of completely and totally bizarre. In the second inning, small white flakes began to fall from the sky. We thought, "Hmmm. Nothing too awful, just a little flurry." Would that that were all it did. It was cold in Baltimore, with a game time temp of about 38F, and blowing winds. But then, in the top of the third, it was the heaviest snow I've seen since the blizzard this January. Big, fluffy white snow came piling down out of the sky. I'll be posting pictures in the morning, when I get back to my camera cable. With runners on first and second, a pop fly into shallow left field became anything but routine. Only first base umpire Chuck Merriweather had any idea where the ball was, it plopped down between Hairston and the right fielder Jay Gibbons allowing one run to score on the error.

Shortly thereafter, they called the first snow delay I've ever seen, in fifteen years of watching baseball. Both frozen solid, I put away my scorebook and got a cup of coffee. We stuck it out through the fifth and walked the half mile plus back to the car in Federal Hill. We drove back to DC through the snow a bit disappointed, a bit cold and more than a little bewildered by the events.

new Fave

Mon, 31 Mar 2003 15:30:22 GMT

I have a new Favorite Blog.

Baseball Musings

The one drawback of my current blogpanel at right is that it's a pain to update. Soon as I get time, I will add this to the bar at right, as well as some other deserving sites.

Remembering Opening Day

Mon, 31 Mar 2003 15:17:33 GMT

I remember my very first Opening Day. I was not yet ten years old, in fifth grade. Erik, Dad and I left right after school was out, we piled into the car and drove down to Concord to catch the BART train to the Coliseum. We bought our farecards, and rode the train to the Coliseum. I remember milling with the crowds as we got off the train. 15 years ago, my baseball journey began. Since then, I've been to countless regular season games, three World Series games, a number of ALCS games, and seen my team bring home a trophy. I've seen the best and the worst of the game. Baseball is a shadow world for the country, with its scandals mirroring the world beyond the center field fence, with its triumphs. That year, the A's would go 104-58, only to lose to the Dodgers and Kirk Gibson's triumphant home run that would break my heart in Game 1. But I didn't know that then. I knew only that my Dad was taking Erik and I to the ballpark.

We must have been some sight in the cold of the bay area night. Dad bought us jackets with the A's logo and caps to go with them. Our seats were high up in the third deck that night, but it didn't matter. We looked through Dad's binoculars and got hooked.

Has it really been Fifteen Years? How time flies.

Saturday in Pittsburgh

Sat, 29 Mar 2003 17:52:59 GMT

We left the house around 7:30 this morning, bound for the City of Pittsburgh. Headed into town to see what we could see, and then move on beyond. We began with breakfast at DeLuca's, down in the Strip District. I had the Mixed Grill, a pile of mushrooms, tomatoes, onions, and peppers grilled and served over hashbrowns and with Italian Bread Toast and Hot Italian Sausage. Hot Coffee topped it off, and away through the rain we went.

Wandering up Penn, passing markets the likes of which I have never seen. Real butcher shops, produce markets, bakeries, Italian delis. It's all so surreal, like I've stepped back through some portal into an era I had not expected. We picked up fresh garlic and basil sausage for dinner on Sunday night, fresh made pasta and bread, all in little storefronts. Artisans who work in both bread and clay. A truly striking morning.

Afterward, we went over to the new PNC Park that sits across the river from the old Three Rivers site, right at the foot of Clemente Bridge. I took a lot of photos, and bought tickets for the game on Saturday, May 24th against the Cardinals. The Park may be new, but the ghosts of Wagner, Stargell and Clemente haunt the place, for you can feel the baseball there, thick as fog. Despite the rain today, we walked around the perimeter of the stadium, up to the bank of the Monongahela River. The statue of Roberto looks into Center Field, a discarded bat falling from his hands and he runs to leave the batter's box. Beyond him, a surprise, an open gate amidst the closed ones, beckoning us inside like a chorale coming from the open door of a cathedral. We wander along the outfield perimeter, staring into the verdant green of the outfield grass. A solitary groundskeeper in a yellow rain suit is tending to the infield. The drainage is flawless. Were it not slippery, a game could be going on today.

Around the far side of the park, we exit through another strangely open gate beyond the right field line and head back to our car, richer for the experience, and blessing the Baseball Gods, who opened a gate where it was once closed, and showing its mystery to us once again.

"We wandered down Mazeroski Way"

Dear Baltimore Orioles.

Thu, 27 Mar 2003 16:35:10 GMT

[This is an open letter to the Baltimore Orioles, sent also to the Fan Feedback Email Address]
To Whom It May Concern:

Last season, for 29 games, I sat in left field, about ten rows up from the wall. It was not inexpensive for me to do this, but I so love the game that I felt it was worth the sacrifice. I had a wonderful time. I paid for the parking package, despite the fact that I found out later, you had overcharged me for the parking passes. So I made the close to 100 mile roundtrip from my home in Arlington, VA several times a month to watch games down at the Yards.

Over the winter, I decided that I couldn't make the season tickets work this year, it was just part of my budget that couldn't remain. It was not a decision I made lightly, and considered many options (including one evening, pondering selling my car) but none were practical. I was saddened, but I consoled myself that I could still go on Opening Day and get bleacher seats for cheap on the weekends.

When I began to look at my calendar this past February, I was blown away to see that the Cleveland Indians were opening the season at the Yards, as my roommate is a huge Indians fan. We made plans. This year, we were going to call off work, and head up to the Yards for Opening Day. We rushed out to the Orioles' Website to get tickets. No joy. Sold Out, it said. We were bummed.

This morning when I had a spare second, I checked to see the Ticketmaster Website for Orioles tickets, and sure enough! Opening Day Seats! I called the box office to see where I could get a grouping of four or so, spread out amongst the season ticket holders. That's when I was told by a rather surly clerk named Rob that I couldn't buy just Opening Day seats. I had to purchase another game's worth of seats as well. I was shocked. Muscling me into buying more seats to get the privilege of watching the opening game? I don't think so. In fact, Rob said, that I was LUCKY because previously the Orioles had said that you couldn't even get seats without a season ticket purchase. Lucky to have to shell out $80 for two tickets to two games? Lucky to pay $6 for a beer? Lucky to pay $5 for a hotdog?

The Orioles do indeed have some of the best fans in baseball, but they are now short one fan. Specifically Me. I will not attend Opening Day this year. Instead, you'll catch me down at the Potomac Cannons' game or the Bowie Baysox game. For the Orioles clearly have proven they don't deserve fans, when all the Orioles want is to separate the fan from his or her hard earned money. Thanks Mr. Angelos, you've ruined my day. The Orioles will continue to draw lackluster crowds if you continue to treat your fanbase to this treatment. With the prospect of DC baseball growing by the minute, and the Orioles' alienation of their fanbase, I have a feeling I know where I'll go to watch baseball, and it certainly won't be at Camden Yards.

It's clear to me that if your season ticket holders weren't already fleeing, I would not have been able to even see available seats on Ticketmaster for your Opening Day game and the series to follow. Your club is in trouble, and you're making nothing but mistakes trying to save your own bottom line. This game is about the Fans, Mr. Angelos, and not about you. This game is about the players, who work like dogs through the season, and not about you. This game can be all that is good in this country, a picture of ethnic diversity, cultural heritage, and triumph of the American Work Ethic, but instead it's become all about money to you. Invest in your fans and you will see the returns, but shirk them, and you will feel it right where it hurts: in your pocketbook.

With love for the game,
Tom Bridge
formerly of Section 82, Row JJ, seats 9 and 10

People will come, Ray.

Thu, 27 Mar 2003 04:18:48 GMT

"They'll turn up your driveway, not knowing for sure why they're doing it, and arrive at your door, innocent as children, longing for the gentility of the past, for home-canned preserves, ice cream made in a wooden freezer, gingham dresses and black-and-silver stoves with high warming ovens and cast-iron reservoirs.
" 'Of course we don't mind if you look around,' you'll say. 'It's only twenty dollars per person.' And they'll pass over the money without even looking at it -- for it is money they have and peace they lack.
"They'll walk out to the bleacher and sit in shirtsleeves in the perfect evening, or they'll find they have reserves seats somewhere in the grandstand or along one of the baselines -- wherever they sat when they were children and cheered their heroes, in whatever park it was, whatever leaf-shaded town in Maine, or Ohio, or California. They'll watch the game, and it will be as if they have knelt in front of a faith healer, or dipped themselves in magic waters where a saint once rose like a serpent and cast benedictions to the wind like peach petals.
"The memories will be so thick that the outfielders will have to brush them away from their faces: squarish cars parked around a frame schoolhouse, blankets covering the engine blocks; Christmas carols drifting like tinseled birds toward the golden wash of the Northern Lights; women shelling peas in linoleum-floored kitchens, cradling the unshelled pods in brindled aprons, tearing open corn husks and waiting for the thrill of the cool sweet scent; apple-cheeked children and collie dogs; the coffee-and-oil smell of a general store; people gliding over the snow in an open cutter; the dazzling smell of horsehide blankets teasing the senses.
"I don't have to tell you that the one constant through all the years has been basebal. America has been erased like a blackboard, only to be rebuilt and then erased again. But baseball has marked time while America has rolled by like a procession of steamrollers. It is the same game that Moonlight Graham played in 1905. It is a living part of history, like calico dresses, stone crockery, and threshing crews eating at outdoor tables. It continually reminds us of what once was, like an Indian head penny in a handful of new coins.

* * * * *

W.P. Kinsella's Shoeless Joe was turned into a movie in 1989, that second season that we had season tickets with the A's, the year they would sweep the Giants in an earthquake disturbed World Series. 1989 was the year I fell deep in love with baseball and have since been unable to shake it.

I remember sitting and watching that movie with my father, in the Century theatre in Sacramento, and for the first time in my life, understand my father. It was clear he loved the game as much as I did. We bonded in the dark of that theatre, listening to the romanticism that baseball has provided us with, a deep escape from the rest of the world, for when you go to a ballgame, it is as if you have left the Earth entirely. The concerns of your life cease, and become changed into the concerns of the game. Is Lansford on his game tonight? How about Gallego? Will he hit into another double-play to end the inning? Is Bob Welch hanging his curve again? Will Mac send another ball into the left field bleachers? Did you hear about Canseco? No longer does it matter if you've done your homework, or if school is going well. It only matters that you've got the right pitchcount.

And that is the zen I seek.

As the three of us walk across the vast emerald lake that is the outfield, I think of all the things I'll want to talk to the catcher about. I'll guide the conversations, like taking a car around a long, gentle curve in the road, and we'll hardly realize that we're talking of love, and family, and life, and beauty and friendship, and sharing. . .

In memory of Percival H. Bridge, my grandfather.