Dear Bob,
So it's been awhile since I've written. I know it was three weeks ago when I saw the last of three games in Cincy, but I've been pretty busy, so I'm just getting around to this last post.
July 3 was a great day. We got to the ballpark eight hours before game time! We took a tour of the ballpark - a guy named Dave was our guide. I tell you what, Bob, it sure was great to get to go onto the field. That was about the most beautiful grass I've ever seen. I've only been on one other Major League Baseball field back in old Riverfront. I once won the Milk Duds Celebrity Batgirl contest and got to go on the field during Reds batting practice. Someday I'll get around to putting those pictures on a disk and publishing them here. I had my picture taken with Hal Morris and Chris Hammond, Version 1.0. But that's for another time.
It's a pretty good tour where you get to see not only the field, but also the press box, Club 4192, the restaurant, Scout's Alley, and the Diamond Club. I knew the answers to Dave's questions, so he joked that he was going to turn the guide job over to me, which was amusing. They were really pretty simple questions, like who is retired number 1? and things of that nature.
I'm not sure what it is about a baseball field that's so magical, but standing there staring out at the verdant sea (complete with boat!) was utter happiness. I could write a whole novel sitting on that grass, such is the inspiration it brings to the soul. The maintenance of such a perfect yard must be quite a process! I commend the groundskeeper and his crew for a magnificent job!
Wow, the Diamond Club seats are my dream. The tour took us down there, and it is my greatest wish to one day see a game from those seats. I don't care about the wait service or the fancy food or any of the perks that come with those tickets - I just want to be as close to the action as a spectator can be. I want to hear the umpire say "Strike!" when Harang pitches. I want to be able to tell whether it was a fastball or slider by watching the pitch come in. I want my heart to jump as a foul ball comes screaming towards my head, only to be protected by a safety net. Sound crazy? Well, that's part of the game, too!
Yes, one day I will sit in these seats with the rest of the rich folks and lucky bastards. I will go through the special doors, past the fancy restaurant with the bats sticking out of the woodwork (see photo below), and feel like I am part of that world from which I am now excluded on account of me being just a plain old member of the common folk. Yes, one day I will hear the ump scream "Strike!" with my common folk ear!
Boy, that view from the press box is really something, too. Makes me want to run out and get a journalism degree so I can sit there. No wonder the competition is fierce. I can't imagine getting paid to watch baseball - I think I'd be the happiest person on the planet in the whole history of the world, even if I had to meet deadlines and stay up extra late and fly (I hate flying) and all.
I liked how someone had gone and prepped the press box by putting a handout of stats at each place and the San Francisco media guides in the press box cubby holes. Probably some intern. Why didn't I think of interning for the Reds back in the day?
My mom sat in Hal McCoy's seat, judging from his cubby hole behind her. Growing up in the Dayton area pre-internet, Hal McCoy was the guy who told me about the Reds, plain and simple, explaining to me why Mr. Red was either smiling or frowning at me from the front page of the Dayton Daily News. I really miss newspapers. The days when you got your news from a paper instead of a glaring screen seem much simpler in hindsight. I hope DDN still prints the face of Mr. Red on the front page.
Well, Bob, I thought this was going to be my last post, but this has gotten quite long, so I'll have to continue it later. Right now, I have some work to do. Here are a few more photos.
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