So I went to my first home game yesterday. Because I live in a place with a home team now. Two of ‘em, in fact. (I think that’s right—I know San Diego doesn’t have a major league basketball team, and I’m pretty sure about soccer and hockey.)
So I got a free ticket to see the Reds play the Padres. Win-win. The Reds remain, for reasons that usually elude me, my favorite baseball team. And the Padres are my new home team, so you know, good time no matter what. Besides, it’s a baseball game. Gorgeous day, and best of all, free tickets. What’s not to like?
Turns out: absolutely nothing. Not a thing. I was talking to my dad on the cell phone as I made my way to my seats. And when I saw the field for the first time, I actually started laughing. It was just so damn beautiful, all that green, and the white of the baselines, and the brown of the infield. Oh, man. Great stuff.
Extra nice: Boomer Wells was starting for the Padres. The fat bastard even managed to eke out a hit. Which was wicked embarrassing for Cincy, or at least it should have been. He looked every bit as skilled and graceful as the dudes playing slow-pitch at the local park. Next up was Dave Roberts, who most assuredly did not look like a guy playing slow-pitch: his swing was so smooth and quick it was stunning. He moved Boomer over to second, which I don’t think made Wells entirely happy—if it wasn’t the further he’d run in several years, it had to come close.
Until the next play, when Brian Giles singled and, incredibly, the third base coach waved Boomer home. The throw was waiting for him while he was still ten long damn feet away. It was ridiculous. But enjoyable.
Some other notes: Adam Dunn? Big dude. Ryan Freel? Ridiculously good. He made a couple catches the crowd couldn’t believe—I mean, there was no way they weren’t going to drop for at least a single and maybe extra bases. So good that the crowd had to applaud, pissed as they were at getting robbed. Great stuff.
And I had the chance to see Ken Griffey Jr hit his 563rd homer and move into a tie with Reggie Jackson for 10th on the all-time list. But he didn't. Instead he grounded out to end the game, giving Trevor Hoffman his 472 save, only six behind tying Lee Smith for the all-time record. Such is life.
Oh, and one other thing: Ballpark Brew is the local draft served at Petco Park. A very enjoyable beer. Except that it’s, you know…I dunno. I’m not sure you should drink a microbrew at the ballpark. I think you should drink Bud or Miller Light or something like that. You know, be one of the proletariat and all that kinda stuff. Yes I do.