baseball!
Here is my baseball game report! Under a cut, because I tend to babble.
So as context, I went to a baseball game last Thursday, on invitation from a friend in my department that was extended to basically everyone he knew who liked baseball or had ever lived near Boston (it was a Twins - Red Sox game). Since I’m only in the latter camp, I prepared for my first ever professional sports event by watching Moneyball, completely misunderstanding my dad’s attempt to explain half-innings, and finally asking edictalis to explain baseball to me (which worked great, seriously, click those links. They are worth it.).
My problem, basically, is that I am pretty good at retaining obscure facts and historical trivia, and terrible at remembering rules. I can give the impression of knowing a lot about baseball because I know that the strike zone changed twice in the sixties, I can name five general managers off the top of my head, and I know that the Dodgers used to play in Brooklyn. I even know what a perfect game is! Technically. Because I don’t actually know what an ‘error’ is, or why it matters, or what all those guys are doing on that field. 100% of my real sports knowledge is given over to fencing, so there is nothing left for baseball.
That said, I went to this game and had TONS OF FUN, way more fun than anyone expected me to have. So much fun that I willingly listened to sports radio while driving through Kansas last week. Like, I honestly listened to some guys talk about the Royals and trade prospects and batting percentages, and I went ‘hm, yes, very interesting,’ and I meant it.
The alcohol probably helped. It was a day game with an early-ish start, but graduate students are never above drinking before noon. I went to the game with a (nominal) Twins fan, an Astros fan, and an extremely enthusiastic Red Sox fan, like, covered head to toe in Red Sox gear in the middle of Minneapolis levels of enthusiastic. We stopped at a brewpub right next to the stadium before the game, and me and this friend went up to the bar together. The bartender flat out refused to serve him until literally no one else wanted to order, then made my Red Sox friend pay for my drink while continually insulting him and telling him to ‘go home.’ My Red Sox friend still tipped him a dollar a beer, because he found it pretty hilarious. Also everyone wanted to talk to him about Big Papi, which he was super willing to do. At great length.
We made it to the stadium and sat in better seats than we had paid for, which I guess is semi-expected? And then I got really intensely into the game, because now that I had a basic grasp of the rules I was fixated on making sure I understood what was going on. Like, I was initially confused by how a foul can’t be the third strike, so every time a foul was hit I would confirm ‘that’s a strike because it’s one of the first two, right?’ or ‘that doesn’t count because that would be the third strike? right???’ and my friends tolerated this admirably. I was fascinated by all the little details, like base coaches (why doesn’t the guy on second base get a coach? is he lonely??) and people smoothing the dirt (do they get paid?) and how many balls they went through each inning (buckets, apparently). It was Brian Dozier’s birthday, so we screamed ‘Happy Birthday!’ at him from way up high in the stands and then he got a walk and they played ‘In Da Club’ as he jogged and the screen zoomed in on his face as he grinned the awkwardest grin.
I had no idea what was going on. The big screen thing was my savior, because it told me how many outs and balls and who was batting and things. I am glad that we live in a world where even live games have televised components. It was probably a good thing that I was strung out on trying desperately to grasp what was happening, because everyone around me was pretty disinterested? It was mostly not an exciting game. The Twins got three runs in the second inning, the Sox got one in the fourth, and then nothing happened until all of a sudden the Sox scored two runs in the ninth inning and me and one of my friends had to leave early for a meeting, so we missed the possibly nail-biting tenth inning (the Twins won). Most of the cool stuff before that went over my head, like a double play that I totally missed because I was trying to figure out what the hell the outfielders were doing. But it’s fine. I was busy being impressed by the fact that people can catch that tiny ball thing after it’s just been hit that hard. Also I was easily distracted by the stadium graphics, wondering whose job it was to create the graphics, imagining how you describe that job at a cocktail party, and then completely missing a strike-out because my graphics-programmer fantasy was getting too involved.
Also somebody tried to steal second base except the catcher noticed and he had to dive back to first, and he would have gotten tagged out except the first baseman MISSED his HEAD with the ball. Sports!
Anyway, I really did have a blast (even though it was cold and everything was expensive), and I’ll probably go to a game again sometime. Also, I really did quote edictalis’ baseball guides A LOT, and my enthusiastic Red Sox friend agrees strongly about the catcher murder basement and also that he would do all the weird sex stuff with Ortiz. So I appreciate her unembellished accuracy.
After the game I went to my meeting, then fencing, then packed, finally went to sleep at 1, got up at 6 and finished packing, left for Kansas at 8am, got to Kansas at 5.30pm, walked my grandma's dog and slept for six hours, got up at 3am to catch a ride to my cousin's graduation, went to his party, napped for three hours at his house and then went to a club with him that had couple's dancing, jello shots, and a live bull-riding competition, went back and slept for six hours at his house and then drove for three hours to my grandma's, went from there to another cousin's birthday party, slept a whole seven hours that night, and then drove ten+ hours to Texas. Yesterday I basically napped all day. I think I may be mostly recovered by this weekend, which is good because I'm working 12 hour shifts Saturday-Monday for memorial day weekend at the faire.
This summer break may kill me, but at least I went to the most Kansas bar in existence first. And a baseball game!
This entry was originally posted at http://neveralarch.dreamwidth.org/78852.html. Comment wherever you want.
So as context, I went to a baseball game last Thursday, on invitation from a friend in my department that was extended to basically everyone he knew who liked baseball or had ever lived near Boston (it was a Twins - Red Sox game). Since I’m only in the latter camp, I prepared for my first ever professional sports event by watching Moneyball, completely misunderstanding my dad’s attempt to explain half-innings, and finally asking edictalis to explain baseball to me (which worked great, seriously, click those links. They are worth it.).
My problem, basically, is that I am pretty good at retaining obscure facts and historical trivia, and terrible at remembering rules. I can give the impression of knowing a lot about baseball because I know that the strike zone changed twice in the sixties, I can name five general managers off the top of my head, and I know that the Dodgers used to play in Brooklyn. I even know what a perfect game is! Technically. Because I don’t actually know what an ‘error’ is, or why it matters, or what all those guys are doing on that field. 100% of my real sports knowledge is given over to fencing, so there is nothing left for baseball.
That said, I went to this game and had TONS OF FUN, way more fun than anyone expected me to have. So much fun that I willingly listened to sports radio while driving through Kansas last week. Like, I honestly listened to some guys talk about the Royals and trade prospects and batting percentages, and I went ‘hm, yes, very interesting,’ and I meant it.
The alcohol probably helped. It was a day game with an early-ish start, but graduate students are never above drinking before noon. I went to the game with a (nominal) Twins fan, an Astros fan, and an extremely enthusiastic Red Sox fan, like, covered head to toe in Red Sox gear in the middle of Minneapolis levels of enthusiastic. We stopped at a brewpub right next to the stadium before the game, and me and this friend went up to the bar together. The bartender flat out refused to serve him until literally no one else wanted to order, then made my Red Sox friend pay for my drink while continually insulting him and telling him to ‘go home.’ My Red Sox friend still tipped him a dollar a beer, because he found it pretty hilarious. Also everyone wanted to talk to him about Big Papi, which he was super willing to do. At great length.
We made it to the stadium and sat in better seats than we had paid for, which I guess is semi-expected? And then I got really intensely into the game, because now that I had a basic grasp of the rules I was fixated on making sure I understood what was going on. Like, I was initially confused by how a foul can’t be the third strike, so every time a foul was hit I would confirm ‘that’s a strike because it’s one of the first two, right?’ or ‘that doesn’t count because that would be the third strike? right???’ and my friends tolerated this admirably. I was fascinated by all the little details, like base coaches (why doesn’t the guy on second base get a coach? is he lonely??) and people smoothing the dirt (do they get paid?) and how many balls they went through each inning (buckets, apparently). It was Brian Dozier’s birthday, so we screamed ‘Happy Birthday!’ at him from way up high in the stands and then he got a walk and they played ‘In Da Club’ as he jogged and the screen zoomed in on his face as he grinned the awkwardest grin.
I had no idea what was going on. The big screen thing was my savior, because it told me how many outs and balls and who was batting and things. I am glad that we live in a world where even live games have televised components. It was probably a good thing that I was strung out on trying desperately to grasp what was happening, because everyone around me was pretty disinterested? It was mostly not an exciting game. The Twins got three runs in the second inning, the Sox got one in the fourth, and then nothing happened until all of a sudden the Sox scored two runs in the ninth inning and me and one of my friends had to leave early for a meeting, so we missed the possibly nail-biting tenth inning (the Twins won). Most of the cool stuff before that went over my head, like a double play that I totally missed because I was trying to figure out what the hell the outfielders were doing. But it’s fine. I was busy being impressed by the fact that people can catch that tiny ball thing after it’s just been hit that hard. Also I was easily distracted by the stadium graphics, wondering whose job it was to create the graphics, imagining how you describe that job at a cocktail party, and then completely missing a strike-out because my graphics-programmer fantasy was getting too involved.
Also somebody tried to steal second base except the catcher noticed and he had to dive back to first, and he would have gotten tagged out except the first baseman MISSED his HEAD with the ball. Sports!
Anyway, I really did have a blast (even though it was cold and everything was expensive), and I’ll probably go to a game again sometime. Also, I really did quote edictalis’ baseball guides A LOT, and my enthusiastic Red Sox friend agrees strongly about the catcher murder basement and also that he would do all the weird sex stuff with Ortiz. So I appreciate her unembellished accuracy.
After the game I went to my meeting, then fencing, then packed, finally went to sleep at 1, got up at 6 and finished packing, left for Kansas at 8am, got to Kansas at 5.30pm, walked my grandma's dog and slept for six hours, got up at 3am to catch a ride to my cousin's graduation, went to his party, napped for three hours at his house and then went to a club with him that had couple's dancing, jello shots, and a live bull-riding competition, went back and slept for six hours at his house and then drove for three hours to my grandma's, went from there to another cousin's birthday party, slept a whole seven hours that night, and then drove ten+ hours to Texas. Yesterday I basically napped all day. I think I may be mostly recovered by this weekend, which is good because I'm working 12 hour shifts Saturday-Monday for memorial day weekend at the faire.
This summer break may kill me, but at least I went to the most Kansas bar in existence first. And a baseball game!
This entry was originally posted at http://neveralarch.dreamwidth.org/78852.html. Comment wherever you want.