Port St. Lucie

On a Curious Effect of the Season

Newark Liberty Bald Eagle God-Bless-America Airport

Friday, March 15, 2013

Boynton Beach, FL


Outside the Game:
It always seems that around this time of year, work is getting me down. This year was no different, but no doubt more intense, as thanks to client foot-dragging and several rather abrupt changes of direction, I had managed to work 180 hours in the previous three weeks, instead of the more traditional 120.

So I was more than ready to head down for Spring Training, especially as my work troubles were flying parallel to what seemed like an endless off-season without baseball. Taking my first vacation day since last July, I dragged myself out of bed and off to the airport. The trip did not begin under good signs, as even after 9 AM on a Friday, the Pulaski Skyway was still clogged up in both directions.

More surprisingly, this turned out to be the last hitch in my travels. I got through security with little trouble (partly due to the fact that I bought my tickets back before my Silver Elite status had lapsed), had a quick breakfast a terminal diner, and headed out to my gate, where a crew, a plane, and gate staff were already waiting.

I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop on this flight, but it never did. There were swarms of children and the elderly joining me down to West Palm Beach, but the boarding of the flight was orderly and relatively without incident. The children remained well-behaved for the entire flight, and I found myself playing Skee Ball on my iPad for the duration of the uneventful trip.

My father picked me up at the airport, and I was again thrust into the land of eternal brightness. My parents had a different unit in the old folks condo complex this year, which came with an additional bathroom and bedroom. I immediately made use of the later to take an extended nap, and enjoyed the nicest Friday I've had in quite a while.

As has become tradition, my family in Florida came over for a pizza party that evening. It was mostly tolerable, as most of the younger folks and myself adjourned to the patio to talk baseball and Archer for most of the night. One of my aunts is hosting a Caribbean student who is up to play baseball for a local high school. He was an interesting source of insight and discussion on different cultural practices in baseball.

Pizza was eaten, plans were made for getting to the game the next day, and eventually everyone went back to their domiciles of choice.


The Accommodations:
As mentioned, I was again staying in my parents' snowbird condo in Boynton Beach. This year, I had a room all to myself, which was a welcome change from sleeping on a pull-out couch in the living room, to be awakened by whatever parent dragged themselves through first the next morning, inevitably earlier than good taste would dictate.

Worthy of note was the truly bad taste the owners of this condo possessed. The place was filled to the brim with knickknacks from Boston and Martha's Vineyard, but because of one NY picture in the menagerie, my mother had decided they were from New York. Wherever their origin, the truly astounding amount of ceramic pigs and ugly nautical items pointed an accusing finger at whoever was responsible for their interior decorating.

On the Games Not Mattering

Tradition Field, 2013

Saturday, March 16, 2013
Miami Marlins vs. New York Metropolitans
Tradition Field
Grapefruit League (Spring Training)
Port St. Lucie, FL
1:10 PM


Outside the Game:
It was a relatively early start the next day. We had the children of cousins to pick up to take to the game with us, and I was officially writing up this stadium for my first gig with Stadium Journeys magazine, so I had to get there early. We got there with a minimum of fuss, parked early, and I parted ways with my compatriots to do my stadium write-up.

After the game, we got back to the car for a similarly unnoticeable drive back to the condo. My parents went to church, I went to sleep, and we went out for another contentious dinner of passive aggression, ingrained behavior patterns, and tiresome arguments.


The Stadium & Fans:

Home plate to center field, Tradition Field

For their 25th year as the Spring Training home of the Mets, they had to dust off the two year-old signs for Tradition Field, as the previous marketing arrangement with Digital Domain had expired last year. The old signs seemed to not be too far in storage and were out and shiny for the start of the game.

There weren't many updates of note since the remodeling last year that hooked up the picnic berm in the outfield with the rest of the park. They added a championship pennant wall near the outfield entrance, with all the victories of the parent club as well as the minor league affiliates that call the stadium home for the rest of the year.

As it was a weekend game late in spring against a local opponent, the stadium was more filled than in previous years, about 3/4ths full up. Most of the assembled were Mets fans, but given the proximity of the Marlins, there was a good deal of the opposition in attendance as well.


At the Game with Oogie:

Sliders

I  was once again with my family at this game, and sundry cousins and their children and their foreign exchange students were sitting with us in our block of seats over two rows. That most of them were Marlins fans eventually became a point of contention. All around us were big families of Mets fans clearly down for the season.


The Game:

First pitch, Marlins vs. Metropolitans

For the most part, this was an early pitcher's duel that turned into a game of musical chairs later.

The visiting Marlins managed to scare up a one-out double in the first and nothing else, while the Mets squandered a leadoff walk and single with a double-play and a ground out. The Marlins squeezed out one single in each of the next two innings, but the Mets went meekly down in order.

In the top of the fourth, a lead-off routine ground ball to third turned into something more, as Justin Turner caught his cleat on the lip of the grass and splayed himself out making the throw to first, leading to an E5 and his removal from the game. This seemed inevitably followed by a triple to right, bringing home a run and leaving a runner at third with no outs. A ground out to short brought the runner home, and was followed by a walk. But further damage was averted by two quick outs, leaving Miami up 2-0.

The Mets answered in the bottom of the inning with a one-out single followed by a ground-rule double to deep center. A ground-out to second brought the runner from third home, and a walk made it first and second with two outs. But a weak chop to short ended the inning 2-1 Marlins.

The Marlins went in order in the fifth and sixth, and the Mets only managed a lonely single in the fifth and leadoff walk in the sixth (erased on another double play). The seventh was another scoring frame, as the Marlins got a leadoff double to left that was moved over to third on a ground-out and brought home on a two-out single. The Mets also got a leadoff double to left that got moved home on two successive ground-outs, making the distance between the teams the same as last inning and the score 3-2 Marlins.

The Marlins tacked on an insurance run in the eighth with a one-out monster blast out of the park to left. A single and walk followed, but they got nothing more from it. The insurance run wasn't needed, and the Mets went in order for the rest of the game. One last slightly positive note for the Mets was getting out of trouble in the top of the ninth, with back-to-back walks that were erased on a caught stealing and a double play.

Nevertheless, the Marlins win this one, 4-2.


The Scorecard:

Marlins vs. Metropolitans, 03/16/13. Marlins win, 4-2.

I again delved into the madness of scoring a Spring Training game, and picked up the $6 program at the concession booth outside the stadium. It is a still a little cramped for the amount of switching going on in March games, lacks pitching lines, and has a curiously labeled "B" column that I can only assume is for RBIs.

The game was not of much interest from a scoring perspective. There were a few double plays and an injury to note down, but otherwise straightforward. Around the seventh inning, changes started coming fast and hard, and the announcers once again did a very poor job of keeping us abreast of them. Sometimes they announced batters as pinch hitters, sometime as the position they were taking over... If they just would keep the lineups on the scoreboard during the game, 90% of this would be resolved.

But we persevere.

One item of note was two at-bats in the ninth. I wasn't tracking balls and strikes, but the second Marlins batter in the ninth had a truly epic at bat. By the time I was really taking note of it, the at-bat was six or seven pitches in. On a three-two count, he fouled off at least ten pitches. He eventually won the battle and drew the walk. In the Mets half of the inning, there was another lengthy at-bat, but not nearly as long as the first. It probably went about ten to twelve pitches and ended in an out. Let's go Mets.


The Accommodations:
I was once again on the futon in the second bedroom of my parents' condo at the over 55 community. I added incrementally to the damage to my lower back.

On Small Pockets

West Palm Beach Airport

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Hoboken, NJ


Outside of the Game:
And so it goes. After sleeping in as long as possible on an awkward futon, I awoke and packed up to go. My mother claimed herself sick again, so it would just be my father and myself going out for breakfast this morning.

Foregoing a brunch for a diner breakfast being sans madre, we checked out a number of local places before settling on a diner slightly more out of the way, but on our route to the airport. We availed ourselves of some unhealthy consumables, and then went off to the airport.

The god of irony was looking down on me this day, as I had been complaining that the one thing I hated about the pants I wore that day was they had such small pockets. It is likely that at exactly that time, when I was trying to cram my cell phone in the same pocket with my wallet, that my cell phone actually squirted back out of my pocket and into my father's car. I did not notice this state of events until I got to the airport, and then I had no way of contacting my father to check, as said cell phone and the number for his cell phone were both in his car. (Or at least I supposed later. This turned out to be the case.)

I killed the requisite time at the airport, and one gate change later, it was time to board the flight home. The flight back was as quick as the flight down, landing so early that we needed to wait for a gate to open for us. I had to use all the change in my pocket to call my car service to confirm my arrival. Luckily, a follow-up was not needed, and I was whisked home for a glamorous evening of laundry and unpacking.


The Accommodations:
Sweet Home Hoboken

Click here to see all the photos from this trip.

2013 Stand-Alone Trip