D4P2

Today, we went to Minute Maid Park, which instantly became one of my favorite stadiums. It's a retractable roof, which is insanely expensive, but it helps keep the cool air in while also pretending to be a real baseball field. The best of both worlds, really.



Today, the roof was closed. The whole place is designed wackiness. There's a random hill in center field, and the left field, center field and right field fences are all different heights, with weird angles thrown around for good measure. The quirkiness pays off, I think, because the place genuinely looks cool, and you'll always wonder if someone's going to get hurt on that center field hill.

They have a little train that does things whenever the Astros do something good or Carlos Lee does something athletic. The train doesn't move much, actually.

During the seventh inning stretch, after take me out to the ballgame, the whole stadium sang along to "Deep in the Heart of Texas," a song about the merits of Texas. I just don't feel comfortable singing along to southern anthems, but the song was actually pretty catching. As far as anthems go, this would be my rankings as of now:

1. Waltzing Matilda
2. La Marseillaise
3. Battle Hymn of the Republic
4. O Canada
5. America the Beautiful
6. God Save the Queen
7. Deep in the Heart of Texas
8. The Star Spangled Banner
9. That scary soviet one/the Tetris song
10. The chicken dance

As you can tell, I have actually have a very small reference pool in regards to this question.



The layout of the stadium was superb and added to the quality feel of the place. Going through Target Field is like going through a subway station, all hustle and bustle. Going through Kauffman Stadium is like going to a corporate softball game; everyone's not really paying attention to the game, the kids are off playing in the playground, and the team sucks. The Tulsa Drillers game was high-school baseball team-esque, and the Texas Rangers stadium was like going to the state fair with all its stands. Minute Maid Park, on the other hand, felt like a indoor mall, a nice suburban one, and you never felt like the non-game distractions overshadowed the baseball diamond. I give it 8 thumbs up.

D4P1

We went to Dallas today. There are very few things people know about Dallas. One of them is sports, one of them is the Texas Schoolbook Depository, and one of them is this building.

And yet I don't actually know this building's name, nor does anyone I've asked. Perhaps it is not as big as rumored.


Anyway, we ended up going to Dealey Plaza, better known as that place where JFK got shot.
Here is a mock-up of the day and what happened. About a third of the exhibit was base on how awesome JFK was, followed by one half of what happened that day and the mystery, etc., and then there was one sixth exhibit of how awesome JFK was at the end. There actually was quite a bit of cool info; for instance, after the Warren Commission, quite a few official inquires were made into the incident, and they all had various conflicting results. Apparently, 18 witnesses were killed within a few years of the shooting; one by karate chop to the neck. Now, death is always serious, and there's a big to-do about conspirators and who killed who and who set up who, but really, what an awesome way to go out, amirite?

On the top level of the museum, there was an exhibit dedicated to the photographer who shot this shot. Quote: "It would have been terrible if Jack Ruby had taken one more step and blocked the shot." Yes, way to look at the big picture, Mr. Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer. It also would have been terrible if a presidential assassin got shot in front of your face.



This is a diagram of conspiracy theories about that day. Rather than following it, or paying attention at all to these theories, I now subscribe to this: Lee Harvey Oswald was trying to steal the Jack ruby from Warren Commission, but he was stopped by Dealey Plaza on the Grassy Knoll, a popular health food restaurant in downtown Dallas. Hey, prove me wrong. It's impossible.

D3P1

Today, we went to the Texas Ranger's stadium in Arlington.




This is the view from the top of the stadium. The place is huge; I went up eight stories to get this high. The food areas are wide and tall, with the ceiling towering way up over everything. I meant to get a veggie dog or a brisket sandwich, but I never really got around to it. The cashew man was giving free samples.


As far as fan distractions go, this stadium was pretty nice. They had a little carnival with plinko and pitch games, and kids could play on the little baseball diamond they had.



Their Hall of Fame, however, sucked. The wide and spare hallways were filled with naught but plaques with telling how awesome Nolan Ryan was, and the entire second floor was occupied by a private party. Those jerks.


As for the game itself, it's a crying shame that the Oakland A's have such a crappy offense. Kurt Suzuki was their designated hitter, for crying out loud! The man has a .318 on base percentage this year, and a .327 obp career-wise. That's Joey Gathright territory! Moneyball sucks right now.

This guy was weird enough to get interviewed in-game. I guess that's worth having everyone in the area see your green junk. In other junk-related news, we ran into a stripper on the way out. She was handing out coupons to Jaguars, five dollars off. The police took her aside, presumably to negotiate rates. Her name was London, and for the right price, she'd show you London, France, her underpants and most of mainland Europe. On that note, I end this post.

D2P2 Tulsa Drillers

We went to Oneok Field, home of the Tulsa Drillers. As a minor league team, the names change a lot, with people coming up and down, but people there seemed moderately proud of their Drillers.




Because the stadium is so small, you get to get closer to the players. I thought for sure, that with the small amount of people in crowd, I would get a foul ball. Nope.




Perhaps this guys needs some glasses or something.


This guy seemed depressed at times. Twice he would get up on the dugout to start dancing, and they would cut the music off. That's sad. On a happier note, it was Mustache Day at the Stadium. Everyone could buy these fake mustaches, and all the players wore them as well. They even had a mustache Hall of Fame segment. Notable omissions: Tom Selleck, Chester A. Arthur, and Ron Jeremy.


There wasn't very many foul balls, but there quite a lot of steals. Looking at the players' stats on the big screen, there isn't very many home run hitters in the Rockies organization, but they'll have a lot of guys who can steal.

On the whole, it was a peaceful small town atmosphere. No one got too high, no one got too low. It was like being at the park, and the local boys happen to be playing there, so let's watch. Real low key.

D2P1 The Negro Leagues Baseball Museum

In the morning, we went to the Negro Leagues Museum, where we learned about the days of Jackie Robinson, Mose Fleetwood Walker and Satchel Paige. Man, they had good names back then. But they also had institutional racism, so I'm pretty sure it's better now.

D1P4 Kauffman Stadium

Our first stop was to Kauffman Stadium in Kansas City. The stadium was actually just renovated, at a cost of about 400 million or so. "I actually liked the field better before they renovated it," Bob said. "They could have actually built a new stadium for that price."


The best part about the stadium is the field itself. Since it's in the suburbs, the field is allowed to spread out and sprawl. Unlike Target Field, the concourses are wide and open. Of course, part of the reason the concourses are wide and open is the fact that the Royals suck and less than half the seats are filled, and half of the filled seats belong to Twins fans.




As the game went on, the concentration of Twins fans steadily rose proportionally to the level of Royals losing. When the Twins reached a lead of about 8 or so, the Royal-fan to Twins-fan ratio approached 1:2, at least. All throughout the game, Twins chants could be heard in most sections.



Kauffman has quite a few extracurricular activities for kids and bored adults. In addition to a Hall of Fame, there's a playground, a miniature ball field, mini golf, batting cages, and a playground. While these things might be fun for about two or three minutes, they really serve to remind outsiders that the team really sucks, and here's how the locals cope. It almost looks like a children's play area at a corporate headquarters.




Royals fans are a fatalistic bunch. The odd thing is, the Royals played a highlight reel of the game that made it seem like they got 20 some hits and won the game by 12. They lost 11-2.


The coolest part of the stadium is definitely the fountains in center field. As an experience, the field seems less crowded than Target Field, but there's not as many food options as Target Field, and the field's message as a whole seems to be "Come to the ballpark, here's some things to do when the team starts losing." I mean, they have a playground and carousel, for crying out loud.

D1P4

After 120 miles or so, the bus stopped at a small Iowa town restaurant. “We take farming seriously,” the sign said, and the farming décor scattered all around backed that statement up.

I stepped inside the restaurant for a while, but after seeing that the restaurant was willing to charge 13 dollars for a burger, I ambled outside to see what else the town offered. Not much, it turned out. The Starbucks briefly tempted me, but I ended up getting a free hotdog from a man promoting a racecar.

He was a mustachioed man with bare shoulders, and he tended a gas grill, a table, and a racecar in front of a Citi Bank. He was promoting a driver that the bank was sponsoring in a race the next weekend. He was offering free hotdogs. I took one.

A mother came by with two kids, one boy and one girl; the girl was attracted to the free food, and the boy was attracted to the racecar.

“This, this is where it’s at, sis!” He said.

“Do you want me to start the car up so you can hear it run?” The racecar man said.

“We’re actually going to the pool,” the mother said.

“Maybe you can bring some pool to me,” the racecar man said.

After another walk and a visit to the nearby farming museum, I had had my fill of Iowa. We all loaded up on the bus and moved onto Kansas City.

D1P3

The bus continues its barreling run down the freeway. Outside, Iowa looks like Iowa. Inside, Game 1 of the 1987 World Series is playing. Scattered conversations ripple up and down the aisles.

“He was that guy who gave up the home run to Gibson? What’s his name? He was a starter for a long time.”

“Eckersly?”

“Oh, yeah, Eckersly. That’s the one.”

It’s about 70% baseball talk. The rest is simply getting to know everyone.

My seatmate tells me he was a public affairs officer in the Army reserve during the Vietnam era. It’s odd how small and recursive the world seems sometimes.

Bob sits one seat ahead of me, in the front left seat, by the door and driver.

“How’d you get into this business?” I ask.

“It’s something that’s always been a dream for me. My friends and I decided we wanted to go on a trip to see the stadiums,” Bob said. “You know how friends can be with commitments and stuff.”

Bob said that he actually ended up taking matters into his own hands; since he had experience chartering youth baseball buses with the local bus company, he decided to just rent a bus and fill it with paying customers. He found 49 willing participants.

“I had to advertise in the weirdest places,” Bob said.

Seven years later, Bob does multiple trips a year. He’s done trips to 28 major and minor league stadiums. He's shepherded his charges through delays and broken bones.

He must really like baseball.

D1P2

I was still recovering from the effects of my 3 a.m. wakeup when we pulled up to our rest stop past the Iowa border. After a stop in Bloomington to pick up additional passengers, our bus was now full with tired riders.
Bob tries to schedule a rest stop every two or three hours. This particular stop was to a Burger King and a convenience store. I found a nearby bench and began brushing my teeth. It was a habit of mine.
“What do you think so far?” Bob said.
“I’m running on about two hours of sleep.”
“Same here,” Bob said. “I’m about running on empty.”
“That’s a song,” I said.
“A pretty good one too,” Bob said. “Jackson Browne.”

Day 1 Post 1: On the Road

It's 4 a.m. on a clear, starless night in Redwood Falls, Minn., and I'm sitting in the parking lot of a low-rent inn, waiting. Could this be the wrong spot, I wondered? Perhaps I'm supposed to be in somewhere else. Where are the others? I scan the parking lot and wonder if I should check my email again. And then two guys get out of their cars with a luggage in tow and a baseball cap tucked tight.

Yep, I'm in the right place.

I and 17 others had signed up for one of Bob's Baseball Tours, one of those gigs where you hop on a bus and check out seven baseball games in nine days. This particular tour would take us down south - first to Kansas City, then to Texas, further onto New Orleans, and then back through Chicago.

Bob Kaupang, my old history teacher, had offered me a spot on his tour in exchange for a story. I readily accepted, because there's nothing more American than baseball and the open road in the summertime. And so for the coming nine days, I'll be blogging my thoughts and observations on the road.

Right now, it's 4:30 on a Minnesota highway. The bus is loaded, the luggage is stowed, and the journey begins.