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Maybe it was apropos: The one day I tried to get away from the pressure and tension of my day-to-day responsibilities turned out to be what the kids call an epic fail. I went to the Padres game on Saturday. He (the Brute had gotten tickets from his cousin, and I had stupidly accepted even though other friends had offered me better tickets and I could have gone with their crowd) had bought some nachos when we came in, but they were cold before we even sat down, and not in the least tasty. The lemonade was flavorless and didn’t have enough ice. Ten bucks for warm lemonade, cold nachos. Story of my life, lately.
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I have always greatly resented driving to another neighborhood, parking and walking to the trolley station, waiting for the trolley, crowded into those little uncomfortable cars which makes me nervous and irritable, not to mention paying a fairly steep fee for two roundtrip tickets, to get to a place that is practically within walking distance from my house. So Saturday, for the first time ever, I insisted that we drive my car to the ballpark two hours early and we found parking just south of the trolley station, a short walk to Petco, getting in just after the gates opened.
We had bleacher seats, which meant we could sit in the bleachers or spread our blanket across the grass at the Park Inside the Park. Given a choice of sitting anywhere at Petco, I actually prefer the bleachers and the park, the bleacher seating is more relaxed, and the park is even better, like going on a picnic with amenities. The gentle slope is perfect for stadium viewing of the game, and people-watching. Parents with young children choose this area to take their families to the game, the mothers settle on the blankets with totes full of all the things needed to survive four hours outside of the house, the fathers chasing toddlers, carrying babies on shoulders, bringing and carrying food and supplies as needed, watching the game and chatting with the other fellows nearby where and as they can.
Just after we arrived, an expert mariachi began playing just feet away from us, sponsored by Miller Lite and the radio station, La Invasora, as part of Fiesta con Los Padres, a “celebration of Latino communities.” The hill and grass in front of the stands was quickly filled with people appreciative of the music; where we had settled, near the top of the hill, we could watch the mariachi, the people dancing, and around us, people settled on their blankets applauding each song. Nothing so charming as a mariachi playing old standards, and this one was really unique, with a harp player among the usual violins and trumpets and guitars. They began playing at a little past three and played until a quarter past five, a folklorico taking the field to do two dances, just prior to the singing of the National Anthem. This was a hilarious event; the young woman who sang it would have fit right in with the American Idol reject auditions, attempting to cover over her lack of talent with incredibly cheesy histrionics, flinging her arms, wrenching her face, beating her chest with each dreadful riff played off virtually every note of the song, the musical version of It Was A Dark And Stormy Night. Where’s Simon when you need him?
The Park Inside The Park slopes down to a wide walkway where people stream in from the gates on either side, past food booths and other attractions; there is a short cement wall on the far side of the walkway, and the bleacher seats tiered down on the other side of that wall, then below that, the outfield fence and beyond that the field where the players conduct their business, in this case and on this day, the Padres taking back first place led by the great first baseman Adrian Gonzalez. On the cement wall, people pose themselves for pictures with the field and the stadium behind serving as a backdrop. Families take pictures of themselves and their children, tourists take pictures of each other, couples have pictures taken of themselves by professional photogs who roam around offering to snap a photo. One handsome couple in their late thirties asked for a picture and put their arms around each other’s shoulders, smiling beautifully; the moment the picture was taken, they dropped the smiles and pulled away from each other as they walked off, the wide cold distance between them at complete odds to what they had portrayed for the camera.
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Knit scarves were being given to the fans as they came in the gate, courtesy of Sycuan casino, everyone looked very fashionable with the scarves draped around their necks. One guy who looked Brit had it tied around his neck in the style of a soccer scarf: quite attractive. A fat Chinese baby rolling around on a blanket close by was nearly engulfed in one of the scarves with just his fat bare piggies sticking out, a little girl had a scarf wrapped around her as a shawl. During the game, people were encouraged between innings to wave their scarves, a sea of blue loyalty shimmering across the crowds. By the fifth inning, with the weather turning cold, most people had the scarves wrapped tightly around their necks under jackets.
There’s always a lot of things going on at the ballpark during a game. A man with a nametag that said Event Staff came through and rounded up the younger children and had them running foot races and doing calisthenics, Simon Says and Red Light, Green Light. “Don’t worry, moms and dads,” he shouted, “I’ll wear them out for you.” Grateful laughter from the parents and amusement from the other onlookers as we watched the youngsters being put through their paces and rewarded with bits of Padre swag, cards, play tattoos, hackysacks. The Friar mascot made the rounds, and so did the Petco mascots, red and blue, to play with the children and have their picture taken with the fans. Between innings, popular salsa music was played over the sound system and people dancing in the stands were caught on camera and shown on the megascreens positioned everywhere. Teeshirts were blasted into the stands. Jack In The Box has a game where a fan chooses between three hats to win a prize; the hat chosen on Saturday indicated that everyone in Petco Park was entitled to two free tacos, which won the fan, a man in a wheelchair accompanied by his caregiver, much warm applause. A new innovation: Kiss Cam. Couples shown suddenly on the screen would scream in surprise and then obligingly glue their lips together to the cheers of the crowds. Oh yes, and when Adrian Gonzalez hit a home run, cannons went off and fire torches blasted up to the sky on the outfield wall to the right of where we were sitting. The crowd roared the loudest for that one.
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We had selected a good spot near the top of the slope when we arrived; the Park was nearly empty two hours before the game, but began to fill up as time went on and by the time the game started, we were surrounded. I was annoyed with the family who moved into the real estate behind us, laying the edge of their blanket over the edge of ours and their children’s knees crowded in behind our backs. The children ranged from teenagers to young children. The younger ones were loud and enthusiastic and energetic; I couldn’t relax, tensing with each calling out of every player’s name starting with a boy about ten and filtering down through the smaller boys, and guessing what each hitter would do, pleas for cotton candy and their wishes that their father would hurry and get there, and asking their mother for permission to move here or there closer to some passing attraction, which the mother vetoed each time, to their and my fierce disappointment.
But all in all, they were not bad children, and I recognized later that night when I couldn’t sleep, that it was more my own tension and wish to get out of my skull and veg that made me so miserable in their boisterous company. After a while, I got used to them, then the father arrived and took the children away to feed them, and the teenagers, it turned out to be a daughter and her boyfriend, as I plainly overheard from a phone convo the mother conducted, settled in on the grass next to us and were mostly watching the game, once getting up to go somewhere. The girl was young with a slender body and full pretty breasts and a pleasant face with her hair in bangs and a ponytail, wearing the casually fashionable garb teenagers do these days, tight jeans, two shirts, strappy gladiator sandals, her toenails painted bright pink. The boy was rather lumpy and splayed at the hips and had a large pimply face and neck; he noticed me looking at him and looked back at me in the same way, both of us pretending politely not to look. His curious gaze was searching, intense and intelligent, yet sensible and polite; I could see how he had attracted such a pretty girl, and why her parents were so complacent with the romance. After a while, the young man embraced his girl, and they lay quietly on the grass.
I tried to imagine myself laying back on my Padres blanket (a giveaway from another game last year) and being kissed by someone, but I couldn’t think of anyone I knew that I would want to be kissed by. Below and to the right, Randy Jones’ BBQ was wafting a pleasant fragrance over our way, sometimes replaced by the aroma of the footlong hot dogs sold at the stand off just to the left at the foot of the walkway. The sun had been fitful most of the late afternoon, but by the sixth inning, the wind was blowing ice-cold against the skin of my face; I had my new Padres scarf wrapped and tied around my head and my hands jammed in my coat pockets. After singing Take Me Out To The Ballgame at mid-seventh inning, I decided it was time to take me home.
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The weather had turned cold fairly early, people were crowding me and getting on my nerves, I was hungry and didn’t want to spend the money for a four dollar dog. But I wasn’t that tired, I wasn’t that cold, I wasn’t that hungry. I had come out to enjoy myself but in the midst of all that spectacle couldn’t find enjoyment.
Maybe it was apropos: The one day I tried to get away from the pressure and tension of my day-to-day responsibilities turned out to be what the kids call an epic fail. I went to the Padres game on Saturday. He (the Brute had gotten tickets from his cousin, and I had stupidly accepted even though other friends had offered me better tickets and I could have gone with their crowd) had bought some nachos when we came in, but they were cold before we even sat down, and not in the least tasty. The lemonade was flavorless and didn’t have enough ice. Ten bucks for warm lemonade, cold nachos. Story of my life, lately.
......................................................................................................................................
I have always greatly resented driving to another neighborhood, parking and walking to the trolley station, waiting for the trolley, crowded into those little uncomfortable cars which makes me nervous and irritable, not to mention paying a fairly steep fee for two roundtrip tickets, to get to a place that is practically within walking distance from my house. So Saturday, for the first time ever, I insisted that we drive my car to the ballpark two hours early and we found parking just south of the trolley station, a short walk to Petco, getting in just after the gates opened.
We had bleacher seats, which meant we could sit in the bleachers or spread our blanket across the grass at the Park Inside the Park. Given a choice of sitting anywhere at Petco, I actually prefer the bleachers and the park, the bleacher seating is more relaxed, and the park is even better, like going on a picnic with amenities. The gentle slope is perfect for stadium viewing of the game, and people-watching. Parents with young children choose this area to take their families to the game, the mothers settle on the blankets with totes full of all the things needed to survive four hours outside of the house, the fathers chasing toddlers, carrying babies on shoulders, bringing and carrying food and supplies as needed, watching the game and chatting with the other fellows nearby where and as they can.
Just after we arrived, an expert mariachi began playing just feet away from us, sponsored by Miller Lite and the radio station, La Invasora, as part of Fiesta con Los Padres, a “celebration of Latino communities.” The hill and grass in front of the stands was quickly filled with people appreciative of the music; where we had settled, near the top of the hill, we could watch the mariachi, the people dancing, and around us, people settled on their blankets applauding each song. Nothing so charming as a mariachi playing old standards, and this one was really unique, with a harp player among the usual violins and trumpets and guitars. They began playing at a little past three and played until a quarter past five, a folklorico taking the field to do two dances, just prior to the singing of the National Anthem. This was a hilarious event; the young woman who sang it would have fit right in with the American Idol reject auditions, attempting to cover over her lack of talent with incredibly cheesy histrionics, flinging her arms, wrenching her face, beating her chest with each dreadful riff played off virtually every note of the song, the musical version of It Was A Dark And Stormy Night. Where’s Simon when you need him?
The Park Inside The Park slopes down to a wide walkway where people stream in from the gates on either side, past food booths and other attractions; there is a short cement wall on the far side of the walkway, and the bleacher seats tiered down on the other side of that wall, then below that, the outfield fence and beyond that the field where the players conduct their business, in this case and on this day, the Padres taking back first place led by the great first baseman Adrian Gonzalez. On the cement wall, people pose themselves for pictures with the field and the stadium behind serving as a backdrop. Families take pictures of themselves and their children, tourists take pictures of each other, couples have pictures taken of themselves by professional photogs who roam around offering to snap a photo. One handsome couple in their late thirties asked for a picture and put their arms around each other’s shoulders, smiling beautifully; the moment the picture was taken, they dropped the smiles and pulled away from each other as they walked off, the wide cold distance between them at complete odds to what they had portrayed for the camera.
.......................................................................................................................................
Knit scarves were being given to the fans as they came in the gate, courtesy of Sycuan casino, everyone looked very fashionable with the scarves draped around their necks. One guy who looked Brit had it tied around his neck in the style of a soccer scarf: quite attractive. A fat Chinese baby rolling around on a blanket close by was nearly engulfed in one of the scarves with just his fat bare piggies sticking out, a little girl had a scarf wrapped around her as a shawl. During the game, people were encouraged between innings to wave their scarves, a sea of blue loyalty shimmering across the crowds. By the fifth inning, with the weather turning cold, most people had the scarves wrapped tightly around their necks under jackets.
There’s always a lot of things going on at the ballpark during a game. A man with a nametag that said Event Staff came through and rounded up the younger children and had them running foot races and doing calisthenics, Simon Says and Red Light, Green Light. “Don’t worry, moms and dads,” he shouted, “I’ll wear them out for you.” Grateful laughter from the parents and amusement from the other onlookers as we watched the youngsters being put through their paces and rewarded with bits of Padre swag, cards, play tattoos, hackysacks. The Friar mascot made the rounds, and so did the Petco mascots, red and blue, to play with the children and have their picture taken with the fans. Between innings, popular salsa music was played over the sound system and people dancing in the stands were caught on camera and shown on the megascreens positioned everywhere. Teeshirts were blasted into the stands. Jack In The Box has a game where a fan chooses between three hats to win a prize; the hat chosen on Saturday indicated that everyone in Petco Park was entitled to two free tacos, which won the fan, a man in a wheelchair accompanied by his caregiver, much warm applause. A new innovation: Kiss Cam. Couples shown suddenly on the screen would scream in surprise and then obligingly glue their lips together to the cheers of the crowds. Oh yes, and when Adrian Gonzalez hit a home run, cannons went off and fire torches blasted up to the sky on the outfield wall to the right of where we were sitting. The crowd roared the loudest for that one.
...................................................................................................................................
We had selected a good spot near the top of the slope when we arrived; the Park was nearly empty two hours before the game, but began to fill up as time went on and by the time the game started, we were surrounded. I was annoyed with the family who moved into the real estate behind us, laying the edge of their blanket over the edge of ours and their children’s knees crowded in behind our backs. The children ranged from teenagers to young children. The younger ones were loud and enthusiastic and energetic; I couldn’t relax, tensing with each calling out of every player’s name starting with a boy about ten and filtering down through the smaller boys, and guessing what each hitter would do, pleas for cotton candy and their wishes that their father would hurry and get there, and asking their mother for permission to move here or there closer to some passing attraction, which the mother vetoed each time, to their and my fierce disappointment.
But all in all, they were not bad children, and I recognized later that night when I couldn’t sleep, that it was more my own tension and wish to get out of my skull and veg that made me so miserable in their boisterous company. After a while, I got used to them, then the father arrived and took the children away to feed them, and the teenagers, it turned out to be a daughter and her boyfriend, as I plainly overheard from a phone convo the mother conducted, settled in on the grass next to us and were mostly watching the game, once getting up to go somewhere. The girl was young with a slender body and full pretty breasts and a pleasant face with her hair in bangs and a ponytail, wearing the casually fashionable garb teenagers do these days, tight jeans, two shirts, strappy gladiator sandals, her toenails painted bright pink. The boy was rather lumpy and splayed at the hips and had a large pimply face and neck; he noticed me looking at him and looked back at me in the same way, both of us pretending politely not to look. His curious gaze was searching, intense and intelligent, yet sensible and polite; I could see how he had attracted such a pretty girl, and why her parents were so complacent with the romance. After a while, the young man embraced his girl, and they lay quietly on the grass.
I tried to imagine myself laying back on my Padres blanket (a giveaway from another game last year) and being kissed by someone, but I couldn’t think of anyone I knew that I would want to be kissed by. Below and to the right, Randy Jones’ BBQ was wafting a pleasant fragrance over our way, sometimes replaced by the aroma of the footlong hot dogs sold at the stand off just to the left at the foot of the walkway. The sun had been fitful most of the late afternoon, but by the sixth inning, the wind was blowing ice-cold against the skin of my face; I had my new Padres scarf wrapped and tied around my head and my hands jammed in my coat pockets. After singing Take Me Out To The Ballgame at mid-seventh inning, I decided it was time to take me home.
....................................................................................................................................
The weather had turned cold fairly early, people were crowding me and getting on my nerves, I was hungry and didn’t want to spend the money for a four dollar dog. But I wasn’t that tired, I wasn’t that cold, I wasn’t that hungry. I had come out to enjoy myself but in the midst of all that spectacle couldn’t find enjoyment.