Tagged: Ballparks

The Filibuster

Jeff!!!  I loved your pictures from Nats park and I’m psyched that you
got to see Strasburg.  I also saw that you’ve been to Sox park and
Wrigley recently.  What’s your favorite ballpark that you’ve already
visited and which place would you like to see the most?

Caitlin
Manassas, VA
____________________________________

All Star Weekend 7.13.2009 068.jpgAfter a fiery, bloody internal debate that lasted well over an hour, I finally decided not to begin addressing this query by postulating what one would find if he/she were to actually venture to Manassas, VA… ‘cuz I’m pretty sure one can find Man-assas (a$$e$?) anywhere… including  ballparks all across US America.

ZING!

Still got it, folks.

Okay, maybe not.

But it doesn’t matter… and neither does the ballpark, Caitlin.  What matters is the game.  Sure Busch hosts my boys, Wrigley’s nostalgic, Nats Park has Ben’s Chili Bowl and Sox Park is a good place to pick up Latin Queens; but to be honest, I can find something positive about any and every ballpark I ever go to.  And I’ve been to many.

My favorite random ballpark story is the one about the Oakland Coliseum.  I happened to be in San Francisco on business.  It was a Saturday night and I had nothing to do, so I hopped on the BART to Oakland, walked up to the ticket counter at the Coliseum and said, “I got forty bucks. Where can I sit for that?”

“In a good seat, Honey.” said the kind ticket lady.

Ten minutes later I’m sitting behind homeplate on the first tier above ground level and I can hear Nick Swisher’s awful jokes with my own ears.  Ten minutes after that and I have a Fat Tire in my hand (at the ballpark!) and a few hours after that I was sufficiently drunk off the seductive elixir of the game itself.

And that can happen anywhere.

Though there is one place in particular that I just gotta go to, before it goes back to just hosting football games:

chewbacca at ballpark.jpgI doubt you can blame me.

Hate me ‘cuz you’re anti-Sith, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right. 

Peace,

Jeff

(Chewbacca image via 9GAG)

The RSBS Podcast, Episode 4: Finally, Allen’s Krause… and Other Stuff

rsbs podcast photo 5.jpg
Click ME to Listen!!!

And so in this Podcast…

Dear readers galore FINALLY get to meet THE one, the ONLY, Mr. Allen Krause as he joins Jeff and Johanna to discuss all things urgent, all things necessary.  And it’s all made possible by science.  And hard work.  And Skype.  Judge for yourself.  Among the titillating
topics of discussion: Strasburg as Jesus, the difference between anathema and an enema (it’s important), starting a Pete Rose for US WBC Team Player/Manager petition on Facebook, Gallaraga’s thingy, the Lou Piniella Mailbag and much,
much more!

Holla!


– –

Subscribe
to the RSBS Podcast by clicking *HERE*

Subscribe

via iTunes by clicking *HERE*

*Special

thanks to Keith Carmack — our engineer, director, editor and
all-around sound guru.  His Undercast
podcast is the bomb shizzy, by the way.  It’s available on iTunes and
is posted regularly at Undercard
Films
.

Recorded Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Merry Stras-mas!!!

Jeff and Allen Strasburg game 3.jpgBeing the unfettered baseball junkies that we are, we left the RSBS keys with the interns and headed out to Nationals Park on Friday night.  We had to see Stephen Strasburg for ourselves.

And this is what we learned:

President Obama has balls… showing up in a Sox hat

Allen hates the wave

Fair-weather Nats fans are led by a massive group of IBM consultants who can’t keep their mouths shut during the game

Allen hates IBM consultants who can’t keep their mouths shut during the
game

Stephen Strasburg’s ears ARE that big

Chili Cheese Half Smokes from Ben’s Chili Bowl = Good.  The day AFTER Chili Cheese Half Smokes from Ben’s Chili Bowl = NOT so good.

Friday night games at Nats Park always end with a kick@ss fireworks show

Allen hates fireworks

Merry Stras-mas!!!

The RSBS Podcast, Episode 3: The Stat Zombie’s Death… and Other Stuff

rsbs podcast photo 2.jpg

Click ME to Listen!!!

And so in this Podcast…

Jeff and Johanna welcome a paragon of baseball intelligentsia, Mr. Paul Lebowitz — the one and only Prince of New York!  If you aren’t already reading the Prince’s daily column *here* or *here* then you probably should get on that.  Like, right away.  Or else.  And if that ain’t enough, you can certainly follow him on Twitter too.  To be honest, the man is too ruthless and too unfettered for you to not be paying attention to him… so the RSBS crew made sure to get him at his best.  Among the titillating
topics of discussion: Jason Bay’s UZR, men left on base (LOB), Keith Hernandez’s hunches, BRAINS!!!!… the Lou Piniella Mailbag and much, much more!

Holla!


– –

Subscribe
to the RSBS Podcast by clicking *HERE*

Subscribe

via iTunes by clicking *HERE*

*Special

thanks to Keith Carmack — our engineer, director, editor and
all-around sound guru.  His Undercast podcast is the bomb shizzy, by the way.  It’s available on iTunes and is posted regularly at Undercard Films.

**Image by Annette T.  (Thanks, Annette!)  Check out her sweet@ss blog!

Recorded Saturday , June 12, 2010

The Desire to Score

jeff scoring a game.jpgWhite, black, awake, asleep, hungry, full… doesn’t matter… if you are a man and you have a heartbeat you exist to do one thing and one thing only:

Score.

As no exception to this eons-old rite of passion, I couldn’t stand the drought any longer, and on Wednesday night I ventured on over to my neighborhood cathedral: the ever tantalizing, the ever teasing, the ever titillating Sox Park.

I scored like no man has ever scored before.

Scorecards tell stories — great, fantastic stories that can be pieced together with digits and asterisks and squiggly lines.  Each one is unique — each scorer different from the next, yet universally similar enough to enlighten anyone else willing to read them.

When I was a kid I found scorecards from the ’60s an uncle of mine had kept.  There I was, decades later, in a dark basement in the dead of winter, recreating the majesty of Ken Boyer and Bob Gibson and Tim McCarver on a hot July afternoon… in my head.

So go ahead, take a gander… and try not to drool (click image to enlarge):

5.5.2010 Royals Scorecard.jpg
5.5.2010 Sox Scorecard.jpgAhhh… yes… I feel so much better now.

Hate me ‘cuz you’re allowed to, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

Baseball in First Class

jeff_allen_nats_pose.JPGA little over a month ago, Jeff and I had the pleasure of attending a couple Nationals’ games together. The first night was your usual ho-hum, Pujols hits a homer, sitting out in right field sort of affair. But the next day was the first time I ever sat behind home plate. It was, in a word, amazing.

You could see everything. Every pitch, every adjustment by the catcher and counter-adjustment by the batter. And if that wasn’t enough, we got to sit in the special seats. You know, the seats that get wiped off before you sit down. The seats that are cushioned. The seats where a waiter comes to take your order and ten minutes later your food appears. It was the baseball equivalent of flying First Class.

Days like that make you realize that not all change in baseball is bad. Bleacher seats, stale beer and even staler hotdogs are not essential to the enjoyment of the game. In fact, drinking a Blue Moon instead of an Old Style might even help you appreciate it a little bit more. Having space in your seat is nice and not having your neighbor sitting on top of you is beyond wonderful. Don’t get me wrong, Jeff’s a great guy and you couldn’t ask for a better friend or seatmate at a ballgame. But, well, maybe I’ll just let this video explain it for me:

Happy Friday!

-A

Credits:
Video via The Daily Dish

Could Be the Fans, Man

phillies fan.jpgPardon me for being brash, but it’s certainly no secret that the group mind of the Phillies faithful is about as unruly as the world markets are on this fine Friday afternoon.  And while I’ve never been to Citizens Bank Ballpark, I have seen the drunken exploits of Phillies fanatics in St. Louis as well as here in Chicago.  In fact, one of my fondest baseball memories is seeing two Phillies fans fight two Cubs fans outside of Haray Caray’s Tavern on Sheffield and Addison.  Quite the conundrum as I didn’t know who to root for: the two ^ssholes in Cubs jerseys or the two ^ssholes in Phillies jerseys.

I don’t remember who won the fight; I do remember I wanted to stay as far away from them as possible. 

And that hasn’t changed one bit.

So in reading Mike Bauman’s column this morning — where he theorizes that in order for the Dodgers to come out of Philly with a win someone other than Manny Ramirez has got to hit the ball — I chuckled when he passively mentioned the x-factor of drowning out the noise of “the extremely vocal support of 45,839 of their [the Phillies’] closest friends.”

Touché, Mike. Touché.

As one highly respected blogger put it earlier this year: Philadelphia Fans Don’t Deserve Championship Teams.

And after watching this I have a hard time disagreeing with him:

I know my esteemed colleague, Mr. Krause, has equated the Philly message to that of Barack Obama and even picked them to run the table all the way to the Championship but I can’t stop myself from thinking how crazy that comparison actually is.  Philly fans, obviously, have no qualms about fighting back while Democrats seem to be inherently meek (see Al Gore 2000, John Kerry 2004, Barack Obama 2008).  Philly fans are hardly known for their eloquent speech whereas the Democrats bank on it.

In fact, I think the only thing that Philly fans and Democrats have in common is that they both lose when it really counts.

Let’s hope that one of them doesn’t this time around.

Go ahead, Philadelphia.  Go ahead and hate me.  It’s nothing I’m not used to.  Really.  But don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right (and please stop firebombing my house).

Peace,

Jeffy