Tag Archives: Tennessee Smokies

On The Evening Of Game 7

02 Wednesday Nov 2016

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I don’t need to tell any of you Indians and Cubs fans about the absolute tense, terrifying, thrill of an impending game 7. So I won’t.

Instead, here’s a love letter.

We booked an AirBnB in Chicago that was walking distance from you. I had heard all of the stories and accolades about you for years. Your ivy, your history, your vibe and your sad selection of nasty food and antique bathrooms. Yes, I know you are a bit older than some of the others, it’s in your profile. You were already swaying in the wind when the Golden Gate Bridge was on the drawing table. But some of us prefer a little age.  It gives us time to see where things really stand and how steadily they stand there. You are beauty that defies numbers, categories and adjacent parking lots.

Best way to get there? Best way to get anywhere: walk it.

We left two hours before the first pitch from North Hamilton.  There are a dozen routes to get to it, but we went through the streets of old neighborhoods with no shortage of trees, character, breezes and brownstones.

Meander. Stroll. Take a photo. Grab a sip. You’ll get there. You can’t get lost. Follow the happy people.

And then, like the Grand Canyon it just sort of appears out of nowhere. And like the Grand Canyon or the Brooklyn Bridge- you have seen the pictures but you have never felt the place. You will. You do. It does.

I definitely have my preferences.  Here they are in a tidy list:

Month: October

Food: Thai, Chinese and Greek

Instrument: Guitar

Traffic: None

Composer: Zappa

Sport: Oh, come now

Team: Giants

Baseball Stadium: AT&T in San Francisco

Uh, except that last one.

It just changed. To Wrigley. It blew me over like a Champman fastball.

Wrigley is the home plate of baseball parks and I hope to see a thousand games there.  Or just one more inning.

So tonight, I am throwing it in for the Cubbies and their team of dreamers, most of whom made a pitstop or two in Kodak, TN to gives us all a preview of possible greatness until we can get to Wrigley.

So, let it be done. Raise the flag or break a million hearts

Baseball During Work Hours, part 1

12 Saturday Apr 2014

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Day Game Warmup The weather forecast read PERFECT, so I got the day off and headed down for the Tennessee Smokies day game, located conveniently off exit 407. The pre-noon start time was a bit puzzling, but I was intrigued just the same.

With good weather secured, I engaged the fantasy plan on the drive down: I’d get a great seat, close, down the first base line. Maybe not directly behind the dugout, but a row back from that. This way, a line foul would decapitate the person in front of me and still allow me to catch it, the ball being slowed down and all. I don’t collect autographs, so I don’t need the ‘hassle the guys working’ seating location of directly behind the dugout. Also, since this was my day off, I’d allow myself a nice cool beer to with a pretzel chaser. Being the reasonable type, I’d wait until after noon, or the third inning, whichever came first.

.A day game on a weekday would almost certainly assure me the best seat in the house, perhaps with nobody next to me on either side. And an aisle seat, well, of course an isle seat. The best part of the plan was that it would be easy to execute.  But, Steed, be safe, check the schedule for crazy themes that attract people who love themes but hate baseball. Relief. The schedule indicated the theme of the day was ‘health and safety’- and if that didn’t drive away the causal fan, I don’t know what else would.

As I pulled into the very short line outside of the stadium, a quick glance to the left turned up a lot of yellow. A LOT OF YELLOW. YES, THAT KIND OF NOT-SUNSHINE YELLOW. Oh, I see, this is where Sevier County Schools probably park their busses while the kids are studying away. Except these buses were from many counties. Uh oh. I schlepped toward the ticket booth with dread. They didn’t have to tell me, I could hear FIVE THOUSAND SCREAMING FOURTH GRADERS. WITH GOOD SEATS.

While I waited in line, the blaring pre-show entertainment was definitely geared towards those who have yet to bathe in the existence of algebra and prom.

When I got to the front of the line, the ticket lady looked at me with deep pity before I asked the inevitable question.

“What seats are left?”

“Bleacher. Only. And the berm.”

I took my nine-dollar ticket and kept walking until I was almost to the right field fence. But, wait- this seat is…kinda…cool. I am right in front of the bullpen. I’m in the sun. Nobody beside me. No kids, except the polite ones six rows behind me, not even in line of sight. The players are chatting with us. They…like us? They like us! THESE ARE AWESOME SEATS. I WIN, I WIN. MY FANTASY WAS DESTROYED BUT AT THE SAME TIME, REVEALED TO ME WAS THE TRUE NATURE OF THE UNIVERSE.

And that nature is: Be happy you got a seat, asshole.