I have three basic tenets that you need to know to fully understand my perspective on sports. First, I do not believe that ones affiliation with a team identifies who or what they are. Second, I view sports as entertainment much in the same way as I do a movie or television show. Third, as Dennis Quaid says (as Gordon Cooper) in The Right Stuff, I try to “maintain an even strain” when it comes to dealing with emotional issues that do not directly affect me or my life – like sports. The combination of those three things made me feel a bit out of place at the ballpark on Sunday for the Phillies division-clinching game against the Washington Nationals.
I was greatly outnumbered by people who would disagree with all three of those ideas.
What I do enjoy is absorbing mood, taking things in and good baseball. It’s part of the reason I kind of enjoy attending events by myself. I can come and go as I please, and I don’t have to feel like I have to indulge anyone else – because I don’t. Sunday’s game started at 1:35, and as the clock started winding towards 11:30am, I found myself still waiting for my friend to get to my place so we could leave for the ballpark. Had I not been waiting, I would have been in my car and headed towards the parking lot by then. On a good day, it’s 25 minutes from door to door, and Sunday, with traffic it was much worse. We didn’t leave my house until 12:30, so already I was a little tense. The game was less than an hour from starting and we were stuck in traffic on the Walt Whitman Bridge.
By the time we got near the ballpark, the easy-access parking lots were full, and we were forced to the lots at Lincoln Financial Field, where the Eagles play. When the attendant handed me my parking pass, he shouted to his co-workers, “I have 25 left!” Since there were 4 of them, I figured that they were down to their last hundred spaces, which was an accurate assumption, as we wound up parked about as far from the ballpark as possible. At that point, I figured that my ambience-soaking was going to be kept to a minimum, as we made a mad dash to our seats 10 minutes before the first pitch.
We go to at least a dozen games together each season, and it’s pretty much the same story. Lots of times, we’re walking in as they’re playing The National Anthem. Sunday, being what it was, compounded the effects of tardiness. I’m not a strong enough personality to demand leaving earlier, so it’s probably part of the reason why I don’t mind going by myself.
During the game, there was lots of towel waving. Throughout the past week, the team has been giving out white hand towels that were meant to be waved. Mine had an entirely different function. That of keeping my head cool while the hot Sun beat down on me for the better part of three hours – until I had finally had enough, and near the pass-out stage, I told my friend that I was moving up to shady climes. There we stood, for the last three innings in the comfort of the overhang watching a little history unfold on the field below.
COMING UP NEXT: More interesting human insight.
4 comments:
everytime I have been to a spoting event I end up in the SUN! Sucks!
I hate arriving after the National Anthem, too! That's the best part of the game!!!! Besides the hot dogs!
i hate arriving late and leaving early. I am there to watch some ball whether my team wins or loses, I watch the game. Of course, with the Texas Rangers as my team, I get to see more losses than wins. Maybe next year.
Cowboys are rockin tho!
This is why I always keep my expectations low. Oregon football is my passion sport wise and I do not go into a year thinking Rose Bowl, I think 6 wins to be bowl eligible.
which is why I am glad the Phils and BoSox got into the playoffs, cuz you never know.
I hope your framing one of those towels
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