The Glory Days of Summer
It’s a beautiful Sunday morning, not a cloud in the sky. The promise of a light breeze under an 80 degree sun has beckoned my oldest son and I to reconnect with an American ritual – Sunday afternoon at the ball park. I’ve made the 45 minute journey to Tacoma to meet Kelly and his trusty German Shepard, Whiskey, for a leisurely outdoor breakfast at Doyle’s Public House. Whiskey examines and barks longingly at every dog passing by as I enjoy a Loco Moco and Kelly takes on a Doyle’s Cristo. It’s enough food to last us through the ball game, and it does just that.
Since he’s had his morning walk, we leave Whiskey to his own devices at home while we head 15 minutes down the road to Cheney Stadium, a place I can’t help but believe must be one of the country’s nicest minor league ballparks. With grounds fit for any major league stadium, it’s cozy 6,500 seats include left field terrace clubs and bars, a right field grass berm to set your blanket on, a view of Mt. Rainier and individual folding seats throughout from third base around to first. Easy, close-in parking, ample restrooms and a nice array of Ivar’s Fish & Chips, BBQ and traditional food stands gives you a comfortable, first-rate place to enjoy a game. It doesn’t get much better than this.
It’s intimate. No matter where you sit you’re close to the game, a feeling very difficult to get in a big league park. It brings you in; right there with fans, coaches and players and yes, even the umps. The place is so easy to get to, even the drive there and the short walk from the parking lot are relaxing experiences, setting you in the perfect mood for a pre-game drink and soaking up some sun at the terrace R-Bar while the players take the field for their warmups. It’s inexpensive; I remark I can’t think of anything one can do that’s better or less expensive than an $11 box seat – not even a boring lunch!
The Tacoma Rainiers are the long-time AAA affiliate of the Seattle Mariners, just 30 miles up I-5. Originally built in 1960, Cheney stadium was a pretty decent venue even before the 2011 renovation drastically upgraded the place. Pump $23 or so million into a minor league park and you can get some real bang for the buck, and they’ve done a great job of it here.
We spend the first couple of scoreless innings against the Sacramento RiverCats at the R-Bar before finally heading to our spendy ($16) seats behind home plate. Watching up-and-coming potential major leaguers here is a kick. You can tell they’re fighting for a chance to get to The Show. And even though it’s evident the play isn’t major league it’s still entertaining and, because you’re so much closer, it’s much easier to observe the intricacies and subtleties of the game. It’s less detached and mechanical; guys are out there struggling to make contact and execute plays. The effort put into their play is more tangible, and it feels more real as a result. Remember that effort you put into playing when you were on a field? Exactly, and you can see and feel that here. It brings those times back to the present. Being here is at once nostalgic and invigorating. Those ‘I remember when’ moments come back and, combined with the game at hand, it’s a really fun experience.
While we’re moving from the R-Bar terrace to our seats the crowd’s roar of approval tells us we’ve missed a Rainier’s home run (of course) in the bottom of the third. Ah well. In the middle of the fifth, Rhubarb, the reindeer mascot, races two molars and an incisor from left field to the right field foul line. He puts a body block on a molar, totally taking him out, then wrestles a bat from the incisor and pummels him to the ground with it. Thinking he has victory in hand, he slows long enough to prematurely celebrate, only to be broadsided and cut down by the second molar who brandishes his handy, oversized toothbrush with some gusto. Victory is sweet, but the message here, kids, is winners brush their teeth!
Every couple innings Rhubarb and some pretty local girls run through the stands randomly tossing baseball hats and hot dogs into the seats. The hot dogs are thoughtfully wrapped in foil, but not all of them stay that way. When they get thrown with too much relish orbital separation occurs. The jettisoned wrapper falls harmlessly, but the threat of a 3-stage mustard, dog and bun uncoupling sends expectant receivers ducking for cover. Just another amusing, simple bit of entertainment.
It remains a pitcher’s duel through the sixth until the Rainiers manage to push across three more runs and squirm out of a bases loaded jam in the seventh to come away with a 7-inning, first game of a double-header 4-0 win. It was 2-1/2 hours of relaxing, care-free bliss with one of my favorite people in the world. What a great way to spend time with someone you love. Casual conversation winds from almost serious to non-sensical; from giggling at the people and 5 year-olds around us to the guy in the ‘luxury suite’ who’s still embarrassed and lamenting the foul ball everyone saw him miss.
Minor league baseball is an experience of a by-gone era. When baseball wasn’t all advertising and endorsements, twitter accounts and facebook posts. It’s a re-visit to when the game was just the game, and being in the stands was all you needed to have fun and escape the challenges of life for awhile. I’ll be going again soon. You should, too.
