Augusta (NJ)

On This Uber Thing the Kids Are Talking About

Skylands Stadium, 2016

Saturday, August 27, 2016

Rockland Boulders vs. Sussex County Miners
Skylands Stadium
Can-Am League (Independent)
Augusta, NJ
7:05 PM


Outside the Game:
So, I found out belatedly that the stadium in Sussex County had a new occupant starting last year. The stadium was the previous home of the long-tenured NJ Cardinals minor league team, whom I had visited years before I started the “official” baseball trips as an adjunct to visiting the NJ State Fair, which has its grounds right next to the park. In the interim, Skylands Stadium had only been occupied briefly by an indy-league team that folded after a couple of seasons. A new Can-Am franchise decided to try its luck in rural jersey: The Miners.

My only problem is that I had been without a car since mine died in early May, and with the Yard Goats playing their season on the road thanks to construction issues, there wasn't a pressing need to get a new one just yet. So, when I realized that I had another team to see within driving distance, I had to rent a car for the weekend.

Which is easier said than done. There is an Enterprise lot in the depths of Hoboken, as well as one I found in the Heights, but they were both not open on Sunday, which would make me return the car either Monday morning or evening, not only paying for an extra day, but making things quite inconvenient. I was thereby forced to rent from a place just outside Newark Penn Station, but I had to get there. It was only a short drive, but, well, you know the problem with that by now. I could take the PATH, but with all the weekend construction, it wasn't reliable or timely, plus I would have to get to the PATH trains, which was more difficult with the light rail to Hoboken not running. The obvious choice was a cab, but it was quoted at something like $30.

I had downloaded the Uber app a while ago when I literally had no other way to get home from work late one night (the corporate car service eventually came through at the last minute), but I had never used it. I decided to bite the bullet here, and Saturday morning, I put in for my first ride. I got one nearly immediately for $4, cheaper than a local Hoboken cab just within Hoboken. The guy picked me up and dropped me off, and it was amazing. I was wondering why all the people who had told me about the app in the last couple of years had never told me about this app before. It was a revelation.

I picked up my car after waiting in a bit of a line (apparently it is a big stop for visiting doctors at the nearby Newark hospital) and went on my way, driving back to Jersey City with no trouble. Since I had a car, I immediately stopped at the grocery store and bought all the canned goods that would fit in the trunk, as I finally had a way of getting masses of metal back to my apartment without actually lugging them by hand. Then, after a congratulatory nap, I headed out to the wilds of north-west Jersey.

Unsurprisingly, there was no traffic of any kind, because who goes to northwest Jersey? I got to the park quickly, bought my tickets, took my pre-game photos, and then... had literally nothing to do. Because there is nothing in that area in Jersey. Nothing. Zero. Zilch. There were the fairgrounds (which wasn't hosting anything for a couple weeks), and... fields, I guess. I drove around for a while trying to find something interesting, but I came up blank. I was driving just to drive at that point, but I realized I was out of sunscreen, so I drove the ten minutes to the closest CVS, bought sunscreen, and drove back. And then I just sat in the parking lot until it was time for the gates to open.

Leaving Skylands

After the game, it was another uneventful ride home. I parked by my apartment and went to bed. The next morning, I drove out to the rental place, dropped off the car, and then got another convenient Uber ride home. Uber: Why Are You Not Using This Thing?


The Stadium & Fans:

Home plate to center field, Skylands Stadium

Skylands Stadium started its life back in the 90s when the NJ Cardinals were in town. It has undergone renovations since then, most recently before the Miners moved in before last season. The outside of the park has stairs up to an entrance plaza, with the gates in between the team store and the ticket booth. A giant globe firepit ball sits in front of the plaza and gets lit up after night games.

The park has the old-school inner and outer walkways, with the concessions and stores on the outer walkway behind the seats, and the inner walkway between a lower and upper seating area that extends from outfield to outfield behind home plate. Luxury boxes and the press box are right at the top the upper seating rows from home to first base, and a modest mid-90s video scoreboard is perched out in left-center.

Right field ends in a large group picnic area and the Wheelhouse restaurant, which serves game goers and local patrons during the game. There was even a concert going on the night I went. Right field ends with a large grass area that stops out behind the stands. There is a themed railroad train ride for the kids and a panning for gold station. For fan appreciation night, there was an all-day fair (with separate admission) in this area, with pony rides, water activities, and fair games.

Herbie the Miner

Herbie the Miner (one of the few mascots you'll see wearing jeans on purpose) was the crowd wrangler at the park. Your minor-league standard diet of races and contests filled up the spaces between innings. The pre-game festivities were a demonstration by an overly serious rural martial arts class taught by--I suppose to be--the one Asian guy in Sussex County.

It was fan appreciation night, in addition to the pre-game festival, so there was a respectable crowd out for this meaningless late-season game. It was mostly families for a night’s entertainment, but there were a couple of old-timers rocking NJ Cardinals gear to give it a certain baseball cred. That said, nearly no one seemed to care about the game on the field as much as the between-inning frolics.


At the Game with Oogie:

Indie scoring

I got seats behind the first base home dugout, as the idea of "safety netting" thankfully hadn't reached the Can-Am League yet. Not surprisingly, it was wall-to-wall families all around me, and given the location, there were a lot of signature hounds.

Chicken fingers and a corn dog

The concessions were all cafeteria-style favorites: cheap but strangely tasty. I ended up with chicken fingers, a corn dog, and a Powerade. They'll live on fondly in my colon for years to come.


The Game: 

First pitch, Boulders vs. Miners

If "playing out the string" had a face, it would be this game. The second-place Boulders had already punched their ticket to the playoffs, and the second-to-last Miners were having their fan appreciation day, but the players certainly didn't seem to appreciate it.

The story of the Miners is four hits and six total base runners the entire game, being set down 1-2-3 in 4 innings. They didn't get a man into scoring position until the bottom of the ninth, where a leadoff walk finally made it to second on defensive indifference and made it to third on a wild pitch, briefly stirring the crowd up before they gave up the ghost.

On the other hand, the Boulders had baserunners every inning, and runners in scoring position or brought home in all but two innings. The first two runs came in top of the third with a walk and two doubles. Another run came in the fourth, with a walk, single, and sacrifice fly. In the top of the seventh, a leadoff hit batsman stole second, made it third on a fly out, and then was brought home on a single. The fifth and last run came in the ninth, with the same batter from the seventh earning a leadoff walk and stole second again, to be brought in by a two-out double.

Final score was 5-0, Boulders, and I don't think a soul in that place cared.


The Scorecard:

Boulders vs. Miners, 08/27/16. Boulder win, 5-0.

The scorecard was a regular two-sided printout of an online scorecard stapled to the rosters. It was a good size and not marred by advertisement, so that was nice.

As with the play on the field, there wasn't really anything all that interesting on the stats front, either. A double in the top of the third was really just the center fielder losing the ball in the lights. The pitcher came blatantly up and in on the batter with two outs in the top of the fourth, but he didn't get run for it. It was clear headhunting. He would eventually get tossed the next inning after arguing his second of back-to-back walks. One supposes the umps had heard enough at that point.


The Accommodations:
Sweet home, Jersey City

Click here to see all the photos from this trip.

2016 Stand-Alone Trip.

Pomona

On Testing the Boundaries of Reality

Provident Bank Park, 2013

Sunday, May 26, 2013
Quebec Les Capitales vs. Rockland Boulders
Provident Bank Park
Can Am (Independent)
Pomona, NY
2:00 PM


Outside the Game:
I loaded up on the slightly more posh breakfast buffet at the Holiday Inn in Binghamton before I set out for the day. Since it was an early afternoon game, and I had a good two and half hours to go, I needed to set out relatively early.

I was in the car and listening to a staticy "Talking Baseball" that got more and more clear as my drive went on. Outside of some minor construction congestion, my drive was mercifully without incident, and I managed to pull into the parking lot about twenty minutes before the opening of the gates, which was just enough time to take pictures of the outside of the stadium and get my ticket.

After the game, it was under an hour to get back home. As I had time and no agenda for the evening, I decided to just trust my TomTom when it took me down the Palisades Parkway to see how it would take me home, and even though it decided to use 1 & 9, by some miracle, there wasn't a backup and I got back to my garage at around 6 PM.


The Stadium & Fans:

Home plate to center field, Provident Bank Park

Say what you want about Provident Bank Park, but it is easily the most ambitious indie league park I've ever seen. Most independent league parks seem to aspire to A or AA-level stadiums, but the Boulders clearly decided that their new digs were going to be AAA-level.

To start with, the seating and the walls went all around the field, and didn't just go from left field to right field like most low minors parks. The stadium had a rear facade by the back parking lot and open fencing surrounding most of the park. There were several gates on the shoulders of the building, though the main entrances were by home plate, and next to the team store and the luxury box entrance.

The main entrances led to the main promenade that led down to the seating bowl. The main seating area was fairly standard for a minor league park, with one area of seating extending from left field to right field, with luxury boxes overhead from first to third. But the promenade went all around the stadium, and there were special seating areas in the outfield. The Corona Short Porch was a bar with seating located at field level in right. On the promenade level in right field was the Boulder Berg kids area. Extending from right center to left center (though broken up by the batter's eye) were honest-to-god bleachers. The Coors Light Bridge Bar was out at field-level in left field, and on the promenade level was another building branded to a local radio station.

The Rockbird runs the show on the field along with the promotions team. There's the regular minor/indie fare, with a special focus on races, of which there were numerous examples throughout the afternoon. It was also "Bark at the Park" that day, so there were a lot of four-legged fans in attendance. The Rockbird ever had his own charge, and despite raising some Disney-esque questions of what is a pet and what is not, the pooch on the field was clearly over-excited by the amount of balls in his immediate area that he was not allowed to play with, and often made attempts to madly dash away from the over-taxed mascot.

The Rockbird doing The Bird: Birdception

The fans were mostly a family affair, and decently into the game. Well, with one notable exception.


At the Game with Oogie:

Chicken fingers basket

It is so very rare to have nearly everything in your life succinctly critiqued by an encounter with one individual.

When I got to the park, a good twenty minutes before the gates opened, there was already someone waiting in line to get in. He was in his late teens or early twenties by the look of it, in a personalized jersey, with unkempt long hair, and a bag of stuff. By the time I took all my photos and got on line, I was two or three people back from him, and I didn't think much of it at the time.

As per normal, I got the best seats behind the home dugout that were available. It put me four for five rows back of the dugout in the middle of the row, really close to home plate, because Provident Bank Park had the smallest foul ball fences I think I've ever seen on a ballpark. I was clearly in season ticket country, and the guy with the custom jersey was right behind the dugout in the next section over.

He brought out the cowbell pretty early. It was beat-up number that he hit with a similarly beat-up Boulders mini-bat, at every opportunity. Forgetting that there wasn't that much to cheer about early in the game, for the most part, all he was doing was hitting that cowbell and then texting or something on his phone. It was getting old pretty quick, especially for the sparse crowd sitting around him, and when one spoke up about saving the cowbell for when it was warranted, he said that he wouldn't stop cheering how he wanted to and how could you possibly tell someone to stop cheering at a sporting event? And then he furiously texted some more. You could hear the eyes rolling in the entire section.

It wasn't just the cowbell itself, but that he was clearly trying to mess with the opposing players with it. He would hit it right when the opposing pitcher was releasing the ball, or when an opposing batter was ready to swing. I figured that this was going to end pretty soon, as the opposing manager probably had something to say on the issue, but I wasn't paying particular attention to him, and he disappeared at some point.

As soon as he left, all of the regulars in the season tickets section starting talking about him. Apparently, not only is he always like that, but he is often tossed from the seating area for using untoward language around kids. The exasperated tones told you all you needed to know about this guy.

He inevitably re-appeared, and was immediately visited by an usher who wanted to see his ticket. He made a big stink about having to go to his actual seat, while texting away on his phone. To my great luck, his "real" seat was right next to me.

And he immediately started up with the cowbell again. Which he was ringing in his left hand, right by my ear. I felt I was magnanimous in letting him do it twice before I spoke up. I asked him, rather politely, if he wouldn't mind hitting the cowbell somewhere else besides my ear. He immediately started in on his right to cheer, and I told him, perhaps a little less politely, that he can bang the damn bell, but somewhere else besides my ear. Perhaps it was my demeanor, and perhaps it was because he was already in the cross-hairs of the ushers, but he, with extreme passive aggression, went up and to the right with his cowbell from now on, and I let the matter rest. He even more passive aggressively scooted two empty seats down eventually, muttering about what he has to do just to cheer on his team, and how unfair the world was clearly being to him, who was clearly within his rights.

While that could have been more than enough for the little man, it wasn't the end. Eventually one or two boys a few years shy of teenagedom apparently recognized him from his custom jersey. This keeper of the rulebook on cheering for baseball was not only a professional cheerer, but also the purveyor of a fan site (Twitter, Facebook, whatever the kids do these days) for the Rockland Boulders. All that texting on his phone was actually live-tweeting about the game. After being asked by the gushing boys if he would follow their Twitters, we learned that he also has rules about his important Twitter, in that he won't follow people he doesn't know, even if they follow him first.

The whole discussion was blowing my mind, as he sat there, bragging to pre-teens. He bragged about how he never cut his hair because he didn't have to anymore. He bragged about going to every Boulders game with season tickets his mom bought him, even though he lived fifteen minutes away. He bragged about getting to every game over an hour before the gates opened. He bragged about going to community college. I could perhaps bear it all in silence until he said this, largely verbatim, to the best of my memory: "I'm nineteen years old; I'm an adult." And then I could not quite completely smoother a laugh that I'm not sure he didn't hear.

So there was this nineteen year-old know-it-all, jealously guarding the little fiefdom that no one else wanted that he carved out in the world, petulantly going on about his "rights" and what he "could" and "couldn't" do according to his bizarre little code of laws, carefully guarding this misplaced image as a "rebel," being universally reviled by anyone that had to spend any time around him, and only being admired by those significantly younger than him -- but the fact remains that I was right there with him for most of it. Who, really, am I to judge? With today's technology and beginning my baseball obsession several years earlier, I might as well have ended up a worse version of him.

In other news, the Boulders had this thing where they put up pictures of "celebrity look-alikes" of fans on the scoreboard. Earlier in the game, it was someone who "looked" like John Goodman. They put me up there with Steven Speilberg, presumably because we were both wearing baseball caps and had beards and large noses. Because you know who no one has ever told me I look like? Steven Speilberg.


The Game:

First pitch, Capitales vs. Boulders

Each game on this weekend trip was getting more and more ridiculous, to the point of not being able to expect anything weirder just by the limits of reality. And again I was proved wrong.

The Capitales got a single erased on a double-play in the top of the first, while the Boulders went in order. The Capitales went in order in the second, while the Boulders at least got a leadoff walk who stole two bases before being stranded on third. The Capitales had a bit of a rally in the third, with a leadoff walk (erased on the subsequent fielder's choice) and then another walk and a double-steal, to make it second and third with one out. But two strikeouts ended the inning with no one across. The Boulders went in order in the bottom of the third, as did everyone after until the top of the sixth.

Then the Capitales got a one-out double followed by a single that made it first and third with one out. But again, two outs followed with none coming across. The Boulders again went in order, as did the Capitales, facing a new Boulders pitcher. The Boulders got a two-out walk in the bottom of the seventh, but he was caught stealing to end the inning.

In the top of the eighth, the Capitales mounted a serious threat, with a leadoff single sacrificed to second, and then a walk made it first and second with one out. Pitchers were changed, an out was had, but another walk loaded the bases. But a clutch strikeout ended the game and kept it scoreless.

Things went pear-shaped in the bottom of the eighth, when the Capitales pulled their pitcher, who was still working on a no-hitter. That no-hitter lasted two more batters, as a solo home run to left ended the no-hitter and the scoreless tie. The next batter singled to center, and the next singled to right, making it first and third with one out. A passed ball scored a run and moved the runner on first to second. A productive fly out to right moved the runner on second over to third. A single brought him home, and a double brought him home. Not yet content, another single (the third straight hit) scored the runner from second, making it 5-0 Boulders, before a flyout by the ninth batter in the inning mercifully ended the onslaught.

At this point, we awaited the Boulder's closer to finish up the ninth, and the home crowd could go home happy.

Not so.

The closer for the Boulders was victimized by a first baseman who couldn't handle a throw, allowing a lead-off runner on first. A passed ball moved him to second, but it hardly mattered, as the batter then homered to right, to make it 5-2. No one was too worried at this point.

The next batter walked, and the batter after him got plunked. People started to get worried.

A groundout to the first baseman calmed everyone down a little, but the next batter went yard to right and tied it up 5-5. A pop to first and a grounder to third by the ninth man in the inning eventually ended it, but the deja vu was strong, and the home crowd was stunned.

Onto the bottom of the ninth, and unsurprisingly, a new pitcher for the Capitales.

He plunked the first batter.

He plunked the second batter.

The third batter, simply trying to bunt the ball, was nearly hit twice before he got a bunt down in front of the plate.

The catcher threw that bunt into left field trying to get the lead runner.

And the game ended on an E2.

Two walk-off wins on errors in two days.

Baseball. Am I right?


The Scorecard:

Les Capitales vs. Boulders, 05/26/13. Boulders win, 6-5.

The scorecard was on nice cardstock paper in the center of the free program, but, as Derek Zoolander might say, it was a scorecard for ants. All of the boxes seemed to be shrunk down versions made to fit the smaller form factor, which made it difficult to scrunch in the scoring.

Taking a pitcher out when he has a no-hitter was inexplicable enough. Having the replacement pitcher face nine batters and give up five runs was more so. Having the new home pitcher then follow and do exactly the same thing buggers statistics. Having the new pitcher bean the first two runners and nearly hit the third breaks math. And the walk-off error on the catcher just needs a new universe to properly do it justice.


The Accommodations:
I drove back to Hoboken after the game, so I was back at home that night, wondering why I thought it a good idea to do this the weekend before I was leaving for a two-week vacation.

Click here to see all the photos from this trip.

2013 Memorial Day

Upper Montclair

On… The Jackals

Yogi Berra Stadium, 2011

Saturday, July 30, 2011

Pittsfield Colonials vs. New Jersey Jackals

Yogi Berra Stadium

Can-Am League

Upper Montclair, New Jersey

6:45 PM

Outside of the Game:
I had been home from Japan for nearly a month, I didn’t have another ticket purchased for a game until August, and I was getting itchy for baseball. I also realized that while I had to gone to see every pro team in Japan, I had not yet seen every team in my state. So I started doing research to get together every active professional team in New Jersey.

I wasn’t feeling too ambitious this particular weekend, so I decided to go see the New Jersey Jackals in nearby Upper Montclair, New Jersey. I had visited them a couple of times years ago when they first opened their doors, but I hadn’t been back since I started my baseball trips.

The game was at 6:35 PM, so I planned to get there about two hours early to visit the Yogi Berra Museum & Learning Center, which was located behind home plate and had just undergone a renovation of its own. It was a quick drive from Hoboken in the middle Saturday afternoon, but once I got there, I was surprised by a game already in progress.

Some quick inquiries later, I discovered that because of a rainout on Friday the night before, they were playing a double-header today, and the first game was the one currently underway. Not wanting to try and keep track of a game half over, I bought my ticket for the double-header and kept to the plan to go visit the museum before going in for the second game.

The Yogi Berra Museum had just re-opened this summer after renovations over the winter. A busload of tourists was visiting, packing the place beyond what I would assume its normal pre-game crowd to be. I had been in the museum years ago when I visited the Jackals last, and the place really had gotten quite a facelift. A new theater showed a continuous loop about Yankee Stadium, and the theater itself was dressed in stadium bunting with World Series pennants from all the times Yogi participated, as well as a faux scoreboard. The main exhibits about Yogi’s life before, during, and after his baseball career were now in a hall also designed to resemble the old Yankee Stadium. In the back of the museum remained the entrance to the “luxury box” that looks over the right field of the park. After visiting for a while, it was time to go to the second game, so I made my way outside and down into the stadium.

Somewhere, Gollum is salivating.

After the game, I didn’t stick around for the fireworks display, so I made my way out as the winners for the tennis ball toss were announced. As I weaved my way out to the main roads, the fireworks rocked the night sky behind me. It was early enough that traffic into the City wasn’t that bad, and I had a quick and uneventful ride back to Hoboken.

The Stadium & Fans:

Home plate to center field, Yogi Berra Stadium

Yogi Berra Stadium is an A-AA level park located in the back of the Montclair State University campus, affiliated with the independent Can-Am League. The entrance, right next door to the Yogi Berra Museum, is above the stadium proper, and visitors have to climb down one set of stairs to get to the promenade that wraps around the top of the seating bowl, and then down one or two more flights of stairs to get to their seats, depending how close they are sitting to the field.

The various concessions, merchandise stores, and party areas all line the main promenade. As with many low minors stadiums, there are no outfield bleachers, but there is bleacher seating along the baselines, and a combo kids/picnic area out in right field that is a popular running-around destination during the game.

While the afternoon make-up game was sparsely populated at best, the regularly scheduled evening game was about 2/3rds filled to capacity with families looking for some cheap summer fun and fireworks. They were as into the game as possible, as action bereft as it was. The Jackals ran the regular minor-league events between innings, with the dance contests, birthday announcements, bat spin races, and various and sundry events and abuse involving the mascot, the unimaginatively named Jack the Jackal.

Jack...al

Two after-game events were a tennis ball toss, where you buy a numbered tennis ball for $1 and then try to throw the ball from the stands into various hula hoops labeled with different prizes on the field, with the best prizes the furthest from the stands. If your ball stays in the hoop, you win the prize. After that was the obligatory weekend fireworks display that is always a big hit with families for some reason.

The stadium MC had an annoying habit of doing a dramatic pause before saying the name of the team, which prompted the title for this entry. It was clearly on purpose, and I seem to remember them doing this years ago as well, and frankly, it was still just as annoying. A representative example was along the lines of, “And after the game, be sure to stay in your seats for our fireworks spectacular, brought to you by… the Jackals.”

I visited on a special night, as the Jackals were retiring the number of one of their players in a modest ceremony between the games. After the marketing folks set up a podium and several folding chairs, the MC introduced several Jackals luminaries, both present and past. The Jackals had already retired two numbers: the stadium namesake Yogi Berra and another former player, who was also in attendance.

The event was quite interesting in giving the scope of the indie ball experience. Six years is not what you’d call a long career in the majors, but it was one of the longest on the Jackals, where anyone good enough eventually gets another shot back at the majors or gives up and has to get a “real” job out of frustration or necessity, and it takes an exact certain level of sort-of good to have a longish career in the indie leagues. And Zack Smithlin was just that sort-of good. He ended up on the Jackals after getting cut loose by the Cardinals system, and his excellent performance on the Jackals got him another invite to the Padres camp, where he was once again unable to figure out major-league level pitching, even in the minors.

Mr. Jackal

After testimonials from former and current managers and players, the man of the hour laid out his history in very plain, real terms, but clearly loved what he did for so long, even if it meant that he was still struggling to make his rent this month. It was a very genuine thing, and more “Bull Durham” than “Bull Durham” ever was. His retired number was revealed from under a tarp on the left field wall, and the grass on both baselines had his name and number spray painted on for the occasion.

At the Game with Oogie:

Indie scoring

Leaving my fate to the Montclair student in the ticket booth, she put me in a seat in the first row behind the Jackals dugout. This left me at front-row center for many of the between-inning minor-league games that usually happen in front of the home dugout or on the top of said dugout. The home dugout at Yogi Berra Field is untraditionally on the third base side, and why becomes readily apparent on hazy days such as this, as the third-base dugout is mercifully out of the sun and under the protection of some shade trees behind the promenade, while the first base dugout might as well be directly on the surface of the sun.

There were a group of four or five teenage boys sitting in my row with an unofficial upgrade who got bounced two or three times when the actual seat-holders showed up. Two or three families were arrayed around me, including a grandpa with his grandchildren sitting right behind me. He spent most of the game talking to his grandkids about the game and baseball in general, or prompting his wife to help him remember something.

The Game:

First pitch, Patriots vs. Jackals

Things were weird for this one from the start. Since this had become a double-header, it used a common minor-league rule for double-headers: both games would only be seven innings. This makes sense in the minors when you don’t want to over-tax developing talent, and in the indie leagues, where the rosters just aren’t extensive enough to support swapping out most of the players in a late second game.

Although I believe heartily that the pace of modern baseball has slowed down far too much, I’ve never understood people who complain about individual games going too long. While there has been some times on my trips where time constraints and travel situations make me hope a game doesn’t last five hours, nearly every long game that I’ve been to has been worth every last second I’ve invested in it.

I mention this because even considering that this was only a seven-inning game, it went by in a blink. It was about 1:45 start to finish, and even if it had gone regulation, it would likely have been under two hours. Perhaps both teams were completely tuckered out after playing the makeup game in a blazing afternoon with next to no one in the stands; the offences were both anemic.

While the Colonials went down in order in the first and managed only a weak, two-out single in the second, the Jackals showed some early life. The leadoff batter got plunked on the first pitch and went to third on a one-out single. A two-out walk loaded the bases, but a weak ground-out to second ended the opportunity. A one-out single and walk in the second got two on the basepaths, but two more outs quickly followed. The Colonials had their best opportunity in the third when a two-out walk and a blown pick-off throw got a runner to third before a grounder to short closed the inning.

After that, the Colonials went in order for the rest of the game. And the Jackals didn’t manage much better against the Colonial’s new pitcher who came in for the bottom of the third. The bottom of the third started with a walk, and then the Jackals, too, went in order until the bottom of the sixth. Perhaps it was because it was the second time through the order, but the Jackals seemed to finally solve the Pittsfield pitcher. A hard single to left had a baserunner making only a brief stop before he was blasted home by a line-drive homer to right-center, finally scoring some runs. The next two outs were hard-hit flies that barely stayed in the park, before a strikeout ended it.

The Jackals “won” the nightcap, 2-0.

The Scorecard:

Patriots vs. Jackals, 07/30/11. Jackals win, 2-0. 

The Jackals don’t sell a scorecard as part of their $2 program, or even at all anymore, although they did many moons ago when I first went to the park. On a side note, however, they do sell a scorecard book in their team store, which is some kind of first. As I’m more and more noticing, there is the dedicated batch of scorekeepers in the handicapped seating at independent parks, not because they needed the seats, but because they offer the most felicitous place to keep score. Most of them come with their own devices, so maybe selling scorecards isn’t a going concern anymore at these parks. It wouldn’t surprise me.

At any rate, as per usual these days, I had the Eephus League Official Scorebook with me, and since the Can-Am uses the DH, I was feeling on comfortable ground, space-wise.

As we’ve seen, I needn’t have worried. The 7-inning pitcher’s fest went by at a sprint, and the only scorekeeping of note happened in the bottom of the fifth. It seems that the Jackals started to worry about wasting the pitching performance of their starter and were going to do anything to jump-start their own lagging offense. They started the inning with two attempts at bunt singles, which I’ve never seen before. Both were failures: the first was fielded cleanly by the third baseman and the second was picked awkwardly by the first baseman, who had to make a diving tag to get the runner. They were appended “b” and “bt” respectively in the scorecard.

The Accommodations:
Just Hoboken

Click here to see all the photos from this trip.

2011 Stand-Alone Trip

Newark

On Seeing a Game with the Old Man

Riverfront Stadium, 2011

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Rockland Boulders vs. Newark Bears

Riverfront Stadium

Can-Am League

Newark, NJ

6:40 PM

Outside of  the Game:
At the end of a very long week where my failed relationship with my job had gone from the “silent loathing at dinner” stage to the “screaming arguments in public” stage, I was in desperate need of getting my mind off things. Not having been to a Bears game recently, I once again retreated to baseball to take my mind off of life. I was going to go one way or another, but knowing that my father has enjoyed going to a Bears game before, I gave him a call to see if he wanted to go. We agreed to meet at the stadium after he went to church, and I set about the rest of my woeful inadequate attempts to de-stress for the rest of the afternoon.

The stadium is about a fifteen minute drive from my house, but in keeping with my luck for the week, the one bridge that I have to take in the most direct route to the stadium was undergoing some severe road work, so I had to trust in my TomTom to find an acceptable alternate route. And this I found, though it took longer than I wanted and added some more unwanted stress in an otherwise stressful week. Did I mention stress?

My father had already bought tickets by the time I parked in the lot that makes up the right field wall. We met up and went to claim our seats behind home plate.

There was a fireworks display after the game in which neither of us was particularly interested. We said our goodbyes in the parking deck, and the drive home was, of course, uneventful, as I had nowhere to be.

The Stadium & Fans:

Home plate to center field, Riverfront Stadium

Riverfront Stadium was built in the late 90s in the explosion of independent league baseball, with facilities at about AA or AAA level. The stadium has one large promenade circling the entirety of the structure, where play and picnic areas, concessions, and stores line the back of the walkway so people can shop and get food while still watching the game. The seating bowl descends down from the walkway, looking out into the not-so-scenic rail yards of Newark. Some modest luxury boxes ring the broadcast booth area behind home plate.

The stadium has seen better days. Letters droop off of the hall of fame behind home plate, and most of the shops and concessions areas are undergoing renovations. A huge hit early in their career, attendance has dropped off significantly in recent years, and the Bears switched from the Atlantic League to the

CanAm League this year to save money with a shorter season and shorter commutes to most road games.

The stadium was between a third and half full, mostly with families wanting to see a cheap ball game, but my absolute favorite part was a line of older men, all keeping score, who were in seats at the top of the seating bowl on the promenade. I imagine that is me in not-so many years.

At the Game with Oogie:

Indie scoring

As I mentioned, I went to the game with my father. It is such a cliché, but we really do interact best when watching baseball, when there are no real demands on us except watching some hardball, and in having nothing to talk about except a ballgame, we have more real communication than we do for the intervening year.

We had some seats behind home plate, which are ridiculously cheap for at an indie league game. They had switched up the vendors this year, and we both ended up getting a turkey meatball sandwich to eat, because we were both able to lie to ourselves that it was at least within the realm of healthy. I mean, we didn’t get the regular meatball sandwich, so… healthy.

Outside of sitting, eating, and watching, the only real excitement was a rainstorm that blew in during the middle innings that eventually got so strong as to make us retreat up to the deck to get under cover for a half inning or so, before reclaiming our rightful seats. Rupert the mascot stopped by later in the game to do mascot things for the kids a couple rows ahead of us.

The Game:

First pitch, Boulders vs. Bears

This was pretty much a romp for the home team from pitch one. The Boulders only managed a single (whose runner got nailed trying to steal second) in the top of the first. The Bears went to work immediately, leading off with a single. A strikeout looking was the last out for a while. A walk and a short single loaded the bases, and a hit batsman brought a run home. A double cleared the bases, before a strikeout looking, an intentional walk, and a final strikeout ended the inning. Good news: struck out the side; bad news: four earned runs.

The Boulders didn’t do much better in the second, ratcheting a single and a bunch of fielder’s choices. The Bears got another run on a solo homer and scattered around some hits, leaving it 5-0 going to the third. The Boulders went in order, but the Bears finally chased the Rockland starter with four runs on a walk, two singles, and a three-run homer, making it 9-0 Bears.

Both sides went in order in the fourth, but the Boulders finally got on the board in the fifth. Two runners got on with a single and walk that were brought in with a triple. That runner came home on a sacrifice fly to right before a strikeout ended it 9-3. The Bears got one back in the bottom of the inning, scattering three singles, a walk, and a sacrifice fly.

The Boulders had a walk and then went in order in the sixth, while the Bears scored again on two walks and a single, leaving it 11-3. A leadoff triple and a single for the Boulders got them back one run, but the Bears outdid them five-fold on a bevy of walks and singles and a double, batting around with the score 16-4 Bears at the end of the inning.

And both sides went mostly in order the rest of the game, leaving the blow out at that score.

The Scorecard:

Boulders vs. Bears, 05/28/11. Bears win, 16-4.

I had recently purchased the Eephus League Official Scorebook, and I fortuitously decided to try it out for the first time at this game, as with the recent league switch, the Bears didn’t have a scorecard to beg, borrow, or steal, let alone buy, at the stadium.

The scorebook is lovingly designed and has a bunch of fun elements in it, such as recording who sang the national anthem, what you ate, and the seat location. But the one thing I worried about was the lack of space for substitutions. I figured that it might get eaten up at a National League game, or any game without a DH, but CanAm uses a DH, so it seemed like a safe place to get started with it.

And especially for a casual game such as this, the scorecard was fantastic. Its small form factor made handling it while eating and taking pictures as easy as possible, and it even held up well under the drizzle and downpour that we had during the game.

Outside of keeping up with the cavalcade of Bears runs, there was nothing of scoring note, although the game did feature the sons of two former big leaguers (Raines and Gossage) on the Bears side.

The Accommodations:
My apartment, of course.

Click here to see all the photos from this trip.

2011 Stand-Alone Trip