Pawtucket Red Sox @ Columbus Clippers – 6/11/05

By Ed Agner

 

A few weeks back, Phil and I were poking around the FANTABULOUS Columbus Clippers website (Like I need to give out the URL.  I know you, like me, have that set as your home page.) and Phil stumbled across a note on there that Mick Foley was going to make a special appearance at the 6/11 game.  I only state that because after I called Dad to see if he was free to go to the game – as an early Father’s Day/late Mother’s Day present to both of the folks, not at all really related to Foley’s appearance – I IM’ed Bill to let him know that I was going to the game and told him that “Mike Foley” was gonna be there.  Phil, Bill and I then proceeded spend the next few weeks making far too many jokes about him being a cross between Mick and Dave Foley; a fat, hairy Canadian with gapped teeth and one ear.  This is basically the one joke I have for this entire piece.  Feel free to skim through the rest…or click your back button.  Whatever.

            Now, you all should know that I love minor league baseball more than is acceptable from a normal, functioning human being.  If not, just go to the Balboni piece.  Maybe it’s just because I live in Ohio and there is no major league baseball anywhere to be seen, or maybe…MAYBE I DO truly appreciate the folksy charm of places where real people congregate to kill a few hours of a summer evening…or maybe it’s the $9 for box seats…OK.  It’s likely the latter – but anyway.  I was all sorts of giddy coming into the game.

            I pick up Dad around 5:00 and make sure he’s got his handicap sticker (Amazingly, after Dad had the super-deluxe back surgery a few years ago, he’s suddenly become the favorite parent of my sister’s and me after we discovered the pure bliss of handicap parking.  And yes, I am ashamed of that…sorta.) and off we head to Wendy’s for a pre-game meal.  I then pop into Krogers (PRODUCT ENDORSEMENTS!!!  PAY US!  PAY US!) for some peanuts and Cracker Jacks (PRODUCT ENDORSEMENTS!!!  PAY US!  PAY US!) and wonder within what world those morons who come up with those studies about how much it costs to go to a game live.  I mean, who really spends $5 on hot dogs or $4.50 on a box of Cracker Jacks?  Shoot, most ball parks don’t even enforce those post-9/11 draconian rules against carry-ins anymore.  I could have wheeled a keg in and no one would’ve said boo.  And yet, every year there’s a new study about how it costs a couple hundred dollars to go to a game.  Let’s see…$9/ticket x 2 = $18.  Parking $3.  Hmm, yeah.  That really broke the bank.  Morons.

            We get to the park a little past 6 – one of the main roads we normally take to the park was closed for construction (Come to Ohio in the Summer!  Watch your vacation time slip away as you stare at the orange barrels with no working crews around!), so we had to detour through downtown Columbus.  Of course, this is Columbus and the downtown is dead so there’s no additional travel time.  God bless the li’l Cow Town.  The handicap spots are like 20 feet from the gate and I feel like kissing Dad – except that we are men and we don’t…plus he has a wicked Freddie Blassie cane that he’d smack me in the face with if I tried – because it was hot and hazy and humid and getting out of the AC makes you break a sweat within a nanosecond.

            Cooper Stadium is no great feat of architecture and it’s not in the finest area of town.  It’s a ballpark that’s been in this spot for…ever…or something and pretty well uncared for by the polo set in a neighborhood they have no interest in doing anything for but swinging a wrecking ball in the general direction.  Obviously, there’s been some renovation on the park over the years (which is more than can be said for the surrounding neighborhood), but for the most part the park or the hood doesn’t look a whole lot different from when I started going to games here over 20 years ago – and I can’t imagine it looking too different from when Johnny Mize played here.  They fortunately took out the ghastly artificial turf a few years back so that the park now resembles something less…70’s.  It ain’t much to look at, sure.  But it’s a ballpark, by God – it’s safe, it’s warm, it’s home.  Just a baseball park; nothing more, nothing less.  It has no great bells or whistles or children’s playgrounds or anything and that’s just fine.  It’s a friggin’ ballpark, that’s all it needs to be.  Just sell the FRIGGIN’ game and you’ll get people at the park who actually want to see the game.  I know that is all sorts of unfashionable to the people who want Perrier splashed up their butts between every inning, but Lord God A-Mighty, all you need is the field and some bleachers and everything will be all right. 

            Speaking of which, there’s been a lot of talk recently about how the Grey Poupon set want to move the Clips to downtown Columbus so the foofy-foo-foo folk won’t have to travel into the poorer parts of town.  It’s the godhead culmination of two forces that sports society must stop – rich morons who think tax-payer built sports venues build up the economy of a downtown area and rich morons who want said sports venues in downtown areas so they won’t have to face the urban blight they’ve helped create.  I keep my hands rough and my shirts only sorta-clean so when the worker’s revolution comes I can join in and take some shots at these people too.  And my worst fear about the possibility of the Clips moving downtown is the model the cufflink crowd is basing the move upon – Dayton and their new ballpark.  I worked in Dayton for…God…about 7 years and not only is the city the most depressing place on earth this side of Pittsburgh, the park they built is closed off to the general public.  I mean, it’s not that the Dragons would let Joe Workin’ Man in the stadium, it’s just that Joe Workin’ Man can’t get tickets – the tix are all bought up well in advance by the white collar crowd and even if you could get in, you’d be sitting amongst the clean white folk who want to talk on their cell phones and make business deals and there’s not much more that’s the antithesis of minor league baseball than that.  So yeah, what I’m saying is kill whitey, really.  But I always say that.  So let’s move on.

            Anyway, Dad and I get in the stadium and there’s this MASSIVE banner photo of Derek Jeter.  The Clips are into pimping all the players who’ve gone from the Clips to the bigs and that’s nice but I mean, they pimp EVERYONE who went to the bigs from the Clips with a banner photo.  Fer chrissakes, there’s a Homer Bush banner!  Homer Bush!  Jeter, I can understand.  Bernie Williams, I can understand.  Mattingly, no problem.  Shoot, Balboni I can understand but I am a Balboni mark.  But Homer Friggin’ Bush?  Umm, OK.  Dad and I, along with everyone else coming through the gate make the obligatory Jeter jokes – “Hey, look!  He’s perfectly still!  Just like he’s playing SS for the Yanks!”

            I eye the crowd and it’s split between Yankee fans, Red Sox fans and ECW mutants there to get Mick Foley’s scabs autographed.  I weep for society.

            I pop into the souvenir stand to get Phil his Nick Johnson bobblehead – the woman running that counter of course had never heard of Nick Johnson which, added to the fact that I saw no banner for Nick in the main concourse, I’m just throwing out here to cheese Phil off – and I pick up new Clipper hats for Dad and I and a pack of cards for Bill.  I eye the Jeter celebriduck for Bill and decide against getting Bill killed in Beantown.  There’s a big sign at the check out desk – “Please do not ask us about Mick Foley.  We know nothing.”  That seems apt.

            We head to our seats – five rows back from the field just off of the backstop screen.  Dad breathes a sigh of relief when he realizes there is no more Drew Henson to scare us to death with errant throws.  He then tells me I’ll have to catch anything that comes our way.  We then joke about my fielding inability and how at least Dad knows his nose is safe.  I blame it all on my Uncle’s not coaching me well enough.  Dad tells me he never factored that into marrying mom.  Ahh, fathers and sons.

            That national anthem is mangled by some bimbo who just makes up words in the middle but doesn’t too American Idol-ize the song.  It wasn’t the worst rendition I’ve ever heard, but definitely not good.  Only a smattering of boos break through the applause and I realize that the ECW mutants are at home with cheese graters or something since Foley appearing at a minor league baseball game is selling out.  Dad and I then try to guess what player the woman is sleeping with to get to sing the anthem.  We both guess Bubba Crosby since scrap is sexy.  Dad and I try to figure Bubba’s pick up lines.  We both decide that starting with “I’ve seen Derek Jeter naked” probably works the best.  At least in Columbus.

            Foley throws out the first pitch.  I stifle laughter when he’s announced a Mick instead of Mike.  His wrist is all wrapped up in an elastic bandage for some god unknown reason.  He throws pretty well, actually.  Bubba Crosby catches the first pitch and the ball doesn’t bounce or anything.  There’s actually some tail to his fastball – which is apt since Mick is packing some serious tail in his sweatpants.  Foley does not beat the crap out of the Clips mascots so he is dead to me.

            Your starting pitchers for the night – Abe Alvarez for the PawSox and Pete Munro for the Clips.  Alvarez is a sorta-kinda prospect for the Sox, mostly just because he’s left-handed. Munro was a sorta-kinda prospect for the Blue Jays and Astros five years ago.  He’s just hanging on at this point hoping for some sort of Tanyon Sturtze renaissance.  Yeah, that ain’t happening.

            Did I mention the heat?  Oh yeah, there’s some heat going on.  And humidity.  We swelter.  We pray for a breeze.  We ain’t getting squat.  Obviously, this means that this game will take forever.

            The Clips take the lead in the bottom of the first on an RBI double by Mike Vento.  Abe Alvarez works slowly.  I mean REALLLLLL slow.  Granted he’s in a bit of trouble but man is he working slowly.  People start to squirm and mutter curse words in Alvarez’ general direction.  No one is drunk enough yet to light into him too much.

            Roberto Petagine leads off the bottom of the second.  I tell Dad the Petagine story.  Dad replies with, “So the Sox play that scuzzball with the funny hair over him?”  I reply with, “Which scuzzball with the funny hair?”  This leads to a bad Abbott and Costello sketch involving Dad not being able to tell the difference between Kevin Millar and Johnny Damon.  I allow this to go for the entire second inning because…

            Now, whenever I go to a game, I can always be assured that the people sitting in my general vicinity are absolute morons.  Generally, at a Clippers game, said morons are always from Grove City – or as most people like to refer to the town, Hell.  In this case, I have no clue where these morons are from.  They are a group of 4, two couples, all dumber than the other.  The guys are young hipsters with no clue.  The more tolerable guy wears an A-Rod All Star jersey which tells me that he has more money than sense.  His girlfriend is tolerable only because she’s the quietest of the bunch except for when she goes on through the middle innings telling cat stories.  The other couple makes up for the lack of annoying factors of the first by being obnoxious to the extreme.  The boyfriend is a spindly little wisp of a boy, wearing a Red Sox jersey and a Red Sox world champions hat on top of his Hot Topic-punkishly matted hair – and, god help me, I know only Lance and Eric will get this reference but the guy is the lost soul brother of The Gimp: a loud, abrasive, annoying, look-at-me, look-at-me sort of kid whose parents paid no attention to him and instead of doing us all a favor and getting him a date with a clothes hanger early in the game, they left us all an intolerable mess.  He cheers madly, loudly and wildly for the PawSox.  He wants beat up.  His girlfriend is completely vacant and useless in a less-intolerable way.  It’s painfully obvious that neither of this last pair have ever really seen a baseball game in their lives as they are clearly lost throughout the course of events – not that it kept them from responding to everything going on like a smarter Joe Morgan.

            Foley sets up a table in the main concourse to sell autographs - $5 for a signed sock, $3 for a signed picture.  No one around me is buying that.

            The PawSox jump all over the Clips in the third inning, putting four across thanks the Pete Munro suddenly becoming unfamiliar with the strike zone and a Felix Escalona error.  The look-at-me mall punk behind me gets loud and abrasive as if this was Yankees-Red Sox Game 7 of the ALCS.  Coupled with the heat and booze, people start planning the kid’s obituary.

            In the middle of the fourth, the Clips hold a little game where Foley rolls a pair of huge dice down the backstop screen and a couple of kids guess what numbers Foley is going to roll.  The kids lose, but…you need to learn that kind of stuff at an early age.  See!!!  Minor league baseball as teacher!

            The PawSox put up another four-spot in the sixth thanks to a 2-run DONG!!! By Justin Sherrod.  People start looking towards the exits.  Dad and I are stuck to our seats in a pool of sweat.  The Red Sox fan behind us in really pushing his luck.

            They play the Ohio State fight song in between the top and bottom of the sixth.  I somehow fight off the urge to vomit.

            A couple of old-timers sit in front of me and mock the Yankees for having nothing here in Columbus.  The geezers talk of the giants who’ve roamed this field.  We all share our favorite Babloni home run stories.  This is what baseball is supposed to be about.

            Abe Alvarez takes the mound for the Sox in the bottom of the sixth.  Now, I mentioned that Alvarez worked slowly in the first.  He pretty much kept up the snail-like pace throughout.  Nibble-nibble-nibble, walk around the mound, adjust all his equipment, nibble some more.  People start giving him the business in the second.  By the fourth they want his head on a stick.  With the home team down 8-1 in the sixth and with Alvarez working even slower, security starts getting fidgety.  A lot of people are already gone or else Alvarez would be a dead quasi-prospect when he takes his sweet ol’ time throwing his lollipops up there in the sixth – of course I types that as “sweat ol’ Time” initially, which was apt considering everyone was covered in sweat by this time.  Friggin’ heat.  Friggin’ nibbling pitchers.

            Somewhere in here the Clippers hitting coach gets kicked out for arguing balls and strikes.  Yes, the hitting coach.  Since he didn’t want a cheapy, he decides to throw a mini-Earl Weaver and kicks dirt, screams a bunch and walks away to the air conditioned clubhouse.  People line up to go with him.  The moron Red Sox fans behind me are completely lost as to what’s happening as it interferes with the cat stories being told.

            COLTER BEAN!!! comes on to mop up and the PawSox tack on another run thanks to the umpire forgetting what a strike is and the Clips tragicomedic infield defense.  9-1 PawSox and the parking lot is a blur of activity. 

            Seventh inning stretch and everyone is heading out of the stadium.  I curse my fate as the moron fans behind us are not among those fleeing.

            A pop up our way in the bottom of the seventh gets Dad and I knees in the backs our necks thanks to the moron fans behind us.  The ball was two rows in front of us.  I heretofore had kept to myself no matter the obnoxiousness of the morons behind us.  Getting knees in the neck is where I draw the line.  I want to kill them all but instead just turn and tell them to be cool.  They get up and leave.  If I had known that would work, I would have tried that in the first.  I hate myself beyond belief.

            Foley comes out at the top of the 8th (maybe, I am unsure, but let’s roll with that).  The hot dog race.  They ask Foley what his favorite hot dog is.  Dad and I look at him and guess “all of them.”  Foley says Mustard.  Out comes three hot dogs – three interns in hot dog outfits mind you – one hot dog covered in catsup, one in relish and one in mustard.  Catsup and Relish take the lead.  You can see where this is going.  Foley rushes the leading dogs, throws weak clotheslines at them both so that Mustard wins.  Dad looks at me.  I shrug.  This is highbrow entertainment in Columbus.  I don’t even want to know what Foley made for this appearance.

            The Clips go down without a whimper in the 8th and 9th  - including Bubba Crosby getting rung up to end the game on a pitch that may or may not have been a strike to Randy Johnson.  Game over.  The 15 people left in the park head for their cars.  Dad leaves happy anyway – making me happy in the process.  Everyone wins in the end.  Minor league baseball, people.  Go out and support your local teams.  Get drunk, have fun, run wild.  That’s what it’s all about.