Saturday, March 11, 2017

Port St. Lucie

On Abrupt News & the Folly of March Vacations

Airport
Terminal A for "Awful"
Friday, March 10, 2017
Boynton Beach, FL


Outside the Game:
As it seems normal for these trips, the week leading up to it was outrageously busy. I spent most of my last day in the office in coverage meetings with various entities. I worked over 70 hours before Friday even started, mostly late hours to make sure my coverage was, uh, covered.

It was up to the last second, but I eventually broke away from work and went into the travel world, to be immediately greeted by the fact that my flight was pushed back a half hour. Exhausted as I was, I completely slept through the train ride to the airport. I was taking Jet Blue for the first time ever, and an unfortunate side effect was that I was leaving out of the criminally tiny Terminal A at Newark Liberty Bald Eagle God Bless America Airport. But seemingly with some extra time to kill, I went to one of the few restaurants to grab something to eat, and was immediately greeted with the news that my flight was moved back up to its original time, which has never happened in the history of ever before this moment.

I ate quickly and went to the gate. I was in the last boarding group and had no upgrade, but as I only had my ruck sack with me (that I was sure to fit under my seat), I wasn't too worried. I boarded and found myself next to two kids. The father turned out to be on the other side of the aisle. Between his kids and himself were myself and an old lady who was already dozing off. I didn't even have the opportunity to offer him my seat, as the lady was an immoveable object between us. Both kids were off happily playing on their tablets, so I introduced myself, and we went from there.

My first experience with Jet Blue was impressive. Even before most other airlines started attacking their passengers, it was a step above, with free TV, WIFI, snacks, and excellent service. The kids mostly kept to themselves. On one or two occasions, they needed their dad, and I was able to convey information over the immobile form of the lady between us.

I was later to find out that there is an actual term in the airline industry called "Miami Miracles." This refers to older folks who need wheelchair assistance to get on the plane (thus ensuring early boarding) who are amazingly able to pop up without assistance in Florida and get off the planes themselves. Now, the lady in the aisle seat was already seated when I got on, but she refused to move for the entire flight (making the father climb over her on more than one occasion), but as soon as the doors on the plane opened in Florida, she jumped up like a spry young thing and muscled her way off the plane as fast as possible, literally shouldering her way past some people.

I eventually got off the plane and went to find my father, who was waiting outside to take me to their new condo they purchased this year. They had previously rented from friends and relatives, but made the plunge at the end of last year to have a place of their own.

My father, charmer that he is, had these first words for me after I threw my bag in the trunk and entered the car: "There shouldn't be any traffic on the way back. Your aunt has lung cancer." So, to be fair, he really backed into the news for me. After an awkward ride to the condo, I eventually went inside, saw the new place, had a snack, and went to bed, contemplating that I should never, ever take vacation in March again.


The Accommodations:
As mentioned, my parents bought a permanent condo for their snowbirding activities last year. It is in one of the literally countless over-50 communities next to golf courses in central-east Florida named for the natives that they ethnically cleansed to get land. Looked at objectively, you have to wonder if all these word-salad names (Indian Spring, Seminole Valley, Indian Ranch, etc) are just really bad, racist jokes.

All that notwithstanding, my parents now have a two-bedroom condo overlooking the eighth hole of the golf course at one of these places. Ironically, my father is not a member of that particular golf course, but one up the road a bit more. For some reason, it is more expensive for residents to be golf members, instead of the opposite. The reason why was explained to me more than once but I couldn't quite hold the reasoning in my head.

The condo was very nice, if a little heavy on mirrors to the point that it made me wonder a little bit about the previous owners. There's a kitchen out front, and then a dining room connected to the living room, leading to the enclosed porch overlooking the golf course. Nearest the golf course is master bedroom and bath, while back towards the kitchen was the laundry, second bath, and guest bedroom.

The new place was an upgrade in many ways for me. Firstly, it was a separate bedroom, which let me sleep through the night instead of being in the living room when my father got up for golf in the god-awful ass-end of the morning, and it had WIFI, so I could be in my own room with connection to the Internet and not off in some bizarre familial Middle-Ages prison from technology.

There was, however, no light switch in the guest bedroom. My father had the one main light in the room on a clapper, which was just bizarre and took a good deal of getting used to. Nothing like waking up in the night and having to work up a loud enough clap to turn on the light so you don't kill yourself walking around.



On Obstructed Views of a Massacre

First Data Field
First Data Field, 2017
Saturday, March 11, 2017
Washington Nationals vs. New York Metropolitans
First Data Field
Grapefruit League (Spring Training)
Port St. Lucie, FL
1:10 PM


Outside the Game:
Despite finally having a guest room to myself, I was up pretty early on Saturday. An agreement had been reached that I could use my mother's car in Florida for the duration of my trip, sparing me a rental, but forcing me to use her boat of a car instead of my preferred smaller model. Beggars and choosers, etc.

I had a quick breakfast, and then I headed out with my father to pick up my cousin's kid and get out to the game. Since I had several other games available for this trip, I only got there just as the gates opened to do my regular walking around and picture taking. After a quick stop in the team store, I was in to watch the game, such as it was.

On the way out, it was the standard drive back to my parent's condo with my dad, as my cousin was taken by others. I had a shower to wash all the Florida off, and then had a nap. For my first night down, my parents took me out to dinner at some passable Italian place in Retirementland, but it might not have been so passable, and I had stomach problems for the rest of the night.

I tried to walk it off with a constitutional back at the condo complex, but eventually gave up and set in for an early night. When in Rome...


The Stadium & Fans:
Home to center, First Data Field
Home plate to center field, First Data Field

Outside of being re-christened (yet again) First Data Field, the Metropolitan's Spring Training home in the Grapefruit League hadn't changed that much except the signs (especially the hastily erected one at the street entrance to the park--apparently the name change came just as the Spring Training schedule started). There were slightly fewer specialty concession stands than before, and the 7 Line Army had migrated south, and now took over the berm area with bright baby blue T-shirts for their Spring incarnation.

It was a healthy crowd that got to see the awful performance the Metropolitans put on, and outside of brainless idiots clamoring for an appearance by Tim Tebow, it was mostly Mets fans watching them getting beaten by the Nationals, which is something they would need to get used to for the rest of the season.

As usual, Mr. Met didn't show up down South, and there wasn't much in the way of between-inning entertainment.


At the Game with Oogie:
Grub
Sub and soda

The only good news about our seats is that it prevented us from fully seeing the debacle on the field.

My southern relations had delayed in getting me a final head count so I could purchase seats until dangerously late in the process and proximate to the actual games. Miraculously, I managed to score a block of seats together for a Saturday game that late on, but I should have been suspicious from the get-go.

As it turned out, our block of seats on the first-base side was right up against a camera stand that had been installed amongst the seats. This meant two things: 1) There was only one way in and out of the row to our seats, so anytime we wanted to leave, we had to go the length of the row to make it to the aisle, and 2) The seats right next to the camera stand were, at best, impaired view. They were not advertised as such, which stuck in my craw a little. Regardless, my father took one for the team and sat in the worst seat, since he didn't much care what was happening in the game anyway. When my second wave of relatives showed up at game time, they were able to see most of the game. Selling impaired view without warning is a crappy thing to do, but it didn't really fall out of the realm of believable for the Wilpons.

Anyway, I grabbed an Italian sub at the Italian place at the top of the main entrance ramp for lunch, and watched the game surrounded by my southern relations. Everyone except me had a good time, as I was impaired by actually watching the game and dealing with that monstrosity.


The Game:
Nats win
Story of the game

The utterly meaningless Spring Training game between the Metropolitans and the visiting Nationals was an embarrassment on all fronts for the Mets, starting with the very first batter.

The first batter in the top of the first hit a single to left field that was absolutely butchered by Cespedes, leaving the leadoff runner on third, eventually to be driven in with a one-out sacrifice fly to center, staking Washington to the earliest 1-0 lead. New York, for its part, went in order. The Nats had back-to-back singles to start the second, but managed to strand them, while the Metropolitans only got one two-out baserunner due to an error. Washington went in order in the third, while New York had a one-out walk and single eventually erased on a double play.

Both sides took a tea interval and went in order in the fourth. Washington repeated the feat in the fifth, while the Mets stranded a single in the bottom of the frame. Wholesale swap-outs began in the sixth, and the Nats blew it open with four straight singles to start the inning and a sacrifice fly combined for three runs to stake them to a 4-0 lead. New York had two singles of their own, which they stranded.

The rest of the players swapped out in the seventh, and Washington turned a one-out triple, a single, and an E6 into another run, while the Metropolitans went in order. Both sides, perhaps faint in the sun, both went in order in the eighth, while the Nationals only had a walk in the top of the ninth and the Mets had one single in the bottom of the ninth to finalize the visitors' meaningless  4-0 victory.


The Scorecard:
Nationals vs. Metropolitans, 03-11-17. Nationals "win," 4-0.Nationals vs. Metropolitans, 03-11-17. Nationals "win," 4-0.
Nationals vs. Metropolitans, 03/11/17. Nationals "win," 4-0.

The scorecard was part of the $5 Spring Training program, and it was about par for the course for most recent Metropolitan scorecards, which is to say it was pretty awful. There was color printing in the scoring area, which led to smudging and poor readability, the entire spread was not used for the scorecard, leading to cramped spaces for Spring Training scoring--which needs more space than everything but the All Star game--and the paper was slightly glossy, which made writing on it with pencil extremely difficult. Oh, and there were no places to put the pitchers. So, outside of that, it was great.

Thanks to the Grapefruit League exclusively using the DH, I just put the pitchers in the useless space they left next to the total lines. There weren't many plays of scoring note in the game. The triple in the top of the seventh due to a pop fly getting lost in the sun got a note, as did a single in the bottom of the sixth through the overshift. The only really unique play was an obstruction call against a batter in the bottom of the eighth that went in as a K OB 2.

Everything else was just the Mets getting their teeth kicked in.


The Accommodations:
I was at the parents' condo again this evening. Not much new or exciting to report on that front.



2017 Spring Training

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