Greetings from Baltimore, Part Two: The ball game

This may get me kicked out of SABR, but I think I’ve had it with being taken out to the ball game.

This is part of every convention. Sometimes more than one if the hotel is in proximity to another field. I attended the Milwaukee event and we went to Miller Park and Wrigley Field in Chicago; the latter was against the White Sox which was even more rowdy than a Mets-Yankees Subway Series. And since I’d never been to Camden Yards, I figured I had to go.

This also fulfilled my self-imposed rule when it comes to getting a hat: at the very least, it has to be acquired in the state that supports the team, whether I buy it or someone gives it to me as a gift.

I immediately had buyer’s remorse, thinking I might have the same logo from when I coached my daughter’s softball team. So I bought this one at the Exhibition Room at the convention. Still counts.

Once that mission was accomplished (plus a little something for the missus), I searched for some grub. Yeah, good luck with trying to find vegetarian options in BBQ Land. I could have gotten the pizza but settled on Boardwalk Fries’ cheese version, which were surprisingly good and reasonably priced. I did, however, draw the line at spending more than $14 for a can of beer.

As for the game… Gotta get your Orioles in a row…

The 20-year-old me would have loved it. Maybe even the 30-y-o. The Os beat the visitors, 15-10, with lots of home runs from both sides. I’m guessing there was supposed to fireworks after each home team blast but if memory serves there were just two. Poor planning or saving them for the post-game show?

Similarly inconsistent was the pitch clock. I know MLB hasn’t adopted it yet, but I guess they have it up so the players can get used to it. In any case, they didn’t run it after each pitch and I don’t know the “rule,” but when they did it seemed to start too soon. Not even Bob Gibson could have delivered the ball that quickly. Can’t wait until that’s official. There’s no reason it should take so long for the pitcher to get the ball, get the signals, and throw the damn thing, especially with the new communications systems being used.  This isn’t calculus. Nor is it rocket science, the Astros notwithstanding.

The seats were surprisingly good for the price (face value $20). Right field bleachers(?). I just missed getting a ball that hit the seat in front of me and bounced backwards but now I don’t remember if it was a home run or just a toss from the outfielder after warm-ups.

I was ready to leave after a few innings. The hotel is a ten-minute walk from Camden but since I can get lost in an elevator, I wanted to wait for other SABRen. Didn’t happen. Good for them for sticking it out. Me, I had to get up and walk around to assuage my sore knees and back.

Finally returned to the hotel after more than four hours. The lines for the four elevators were almost as long as the ones for hot dogs at the ballpark so I ended up hoofing it to my seventh-floor room after an aborted effort to get a drink at the bar.

One good thing that came out of the evening: I had my best sleep in a long time.