On Reasons I Don't Like Delaware
Friday, May 23, 2014
Dover, DE
Outside of the Game:
The Friday before Memorial Day was technically a holiday for my company, but for some reason, my team and I were working all day. We had some last-minute deliverables that we had to submit before the end of the week, and, of course, we did not receive them from the necessary folks until the submission day. And so we worked until 6 PM in an empty office, but we did eventually get done what we needed to do.
Getting home "early" that Friday (or at least earlier than I had in about three weeks), I was able to more leisurely do some laundry and rudimentary planning. It was still before the short-season June leagues opened, and my only choice within a reasonable driving distance was the Delmarva Shorebirds in Maryland. That said, they were near the east Maryland ocean beaches on Memorial Day, so I'd make my best time driving at night. I could leave to go down Friday night, and since the game was at 7:05 PM on Saturday, I'd be driving back at night. There were no other teams in the area playing, it would be easier driving on Saturday, and I had to be around on Monday, as it is a holiday in America, and not in Europe, and some work stuff might come through. A plan was born.
I packed up and left at 10 PM into an intense downpour that had been on-and-off during the day and evening. It made the driving slow going, and, more importantly, it rained out the in-progress Mets game, which just left me with the Yankees game in dry Chicago to keep me company on the drive south.
Right around the shore, the rain let up, and I proceeded to make up some time getting out of Jersey--until I had to get off at the end of the Turnpike. There were only three cash booths opened at midnight, and it took nearly twenty minutes to pay the toll and be on my way, eating up a lot of precious driving time.
Once I finally got past the toll gate, it was relatively easy going onto the Delaware Memorial Bridge (probably remembering how much money they're taking). Thankfully, I wasn't going across the second stick-up of the 30 miles of 95 in Delaware, but heading south on 1 to ride the length of the state.
While I had discussed my distaste with the cash grab that is driving in Delaware previously, I had never really spent much more than the time necessary to drive through the state
in the state, with the exception of the game I took in at Wilmington last year. As with most people, I don't have a really good grasp of Delaware. It has no identity to speak of. Outside of them being the first state in the Union, hosting a ballclub in their capital, having a water gap and a state college that is the safety school for every Jersey resident, and grabbing every last penny from people driving through the state, I don't know a whole lot about it.
Driving the length of the Delaware this evening, I found out some more, and I didn't like much of it. For one thing, for such a small place, there is a
lot of nothing. Between Wilmington and Dover, there are wide expanses of not a lot. And what few things there were, most of them were churches. Everyone can have or not have whatever religion they want, but I didn't really expect Delaware to be so Jesus-y. But there were more churches per capita on at least the roads I drove on than in some places in Italy.
At around 12:30 AM, I passed the outer edges of Wilmington's suburbs and headed south on 1. I made the fateful decision not to stop for the night there as I imagined there would be other places along the way at regular intervals. That was a false assumption. There was literally nothing (at least, nothing advertised on road signs) between the southern end of the suburbs and Dover, about an hour to the south. As it creeped up towards 1:30 AM, there was a hotel of some sort just north of Dover. I pulled in to find a large group of people in the front parking lot having a party with blasting music at this hour of the night. This was a serious warning sign, but I was getting really tired and running low on gas. I went inside to find the only room available was a queen suite for $200 or something like that, and I told them what to do with the room, and hey, they might want to stop that party out front. There was a motel across the highway, but it had no vacancies.
This was apparently when 1 and 13 (the two big state roads, such as they are) diverged, so I found myself led down 13 by my TomTom, and wondered if the soothing British voice was sending me in a direction that had no gas or hotels. Ten minutes or so later, I came up on the outskirts of Dover, which had a cluster of hotels by the first exit. Seeing a Holiday Inn Express, I immediately pulled in, but I found myself curiously in a check-in line, as a family had probably had the same experience as myself and was getting a room for the night as well. I was able to get a single King for a reasonable amount of money, with the caveat that it was a handicapped accessible room. I told the clerk that as long as a handicapped person didn't need it, it was fine with me. I parked the car, grabbed my gear, went to my room, dropped said gear, and went the hell to sleep.
The Accommodations:
So, as mentioned, I was in the Dover Holiday Inn Express. This was the second time I had been in a handicapped-accessible room. The previous time was in my first visit to Miami. The rooms are largely the same, with the exception that everything is lowered so that it can be easily used by a person in a wheelchair, and there is a collapsible seat in the shower.
The room had a couch and table in the bedroom, and a slightly oversize bathroom to accommodate wheelchairs. I didn't spend much time in it at all once I had built a pillow fort in my bed and gone to sleep.
On the Weirdest Half-Inning Ever
Saturday, May 24, 2014
Kannapolis Intimidators (Chicago White Sox) vs.
Delmarva Shorebirds (Baltimore Orioles)
Arthur W. Perdue Stadium
South Atlantic League (A), Northern Division
Salisbury, MD
7:05 PM
Outside the Game:
Thanks to seemingly unavoidable habit, I woke up later that day at 8 AM. Being solidly awake, I went down to take advantage of the free breakfast, piling on bacon, sausage, and biscuits and gravy with my seemingly superfluous oatmeal. After eating what I blearily thought was my fill, I headed back up to the room. Thankfully, the check out wasn't until noon, so I re-piled my pillow fort and nestled in for some serious napping. I turned on the TV and threw the remote on the couch before discovering that a block of
Two and a Half Men was on. I was so bleary that I could not get out from the nest to get the remote, but dear
lord, is that one unfunny television program. How can it still be on the air?
A little after 11 AM, I re-emerged from the cocoon. I took a shower and packed up while calling the stadium to buy a ticket. At a little before noon, I checked out of the hotel, got some gas, and pointed my car southward. I was a little under an hour and a half from Salisbury and not in any rush. The game wasn't until seven that evening, and I had a whole day to kill. I took a leisurely drive down, stopping for lunch on the way, and got into town a little before two.
The good news was that Salisbury had not just a zoo, but one of the few
free accredited zoos in the country. And that always spells a way to kill an afternoon to me. I got to the park containing the zoo and was able to get one of the few parking spaces left, as the zoo was packed this holiday Saturday.
I gave a donation at the gate and made my way inside. For a small zoo, it was quite well done. The grounds were laid out with some forethought, and besides a few signs of dubious age, everything was kept up-to-date. A leisurely walk around encompassed an hour or so of photographing the animals and spending some time out of the car and stretching my legs. After I had my fill of the zoo, I took some time to walk around the surrounding park before heading back to my car. It was around 3:30, and the ballpark was only ten or so minutes away, as the TomTom goes. I took a drive over there, and it was easy enough to find, so I swung back to town.
I spotted a Rest Area off the highway on the way back, and feeling a little sleepy and knowing I probably had a long drive that night, I went into a designated Rest Area to use it for its stated purpose for my first time ever. There were about three other cars in the area, driven by more aged individuals. I pulled into a shaded space, turned off the car, pulled my hat over my face, and napped for about a half an hour.
Upon waking up, I felt as like unto a god. It was around 4:30 PM, so with nothing else to do I went to park. I did my normal walk-arounds, picked up my ticket, and got in line to get into the park at 6 PM when the gates opened.
On the way out, everyone was still pretty much asses-in-seats for the post-game fireworks and the charity ball toss. Not caring much about either, I made my way back out to my car in the lot, watched the first few salvos of the fireworks, and got into the car.
It was already ten, and I had at least a 3.5- or 4-hour drive ahead of me, if there were no delays. With the nap under my belt, I decided to risk it, and set out to get onto 13 northbound. While driving can be a pain sometimes (mostly due to other people), there is something to be said for heading out at night, with nothing but a direction to drive, a full tank of gas, and open road in front of you.
Thankfully, there were no delays on the drive home. At around 1:30 AM, I pulled into my parking space in Hoboken and unloaded all my stuff for the walk back to my apartment. In a case of multiple miracles, even the downstairs neighbors seemed to be gone for the holiday weekend. For the second night in a row, I just dropped my stuff where it lay and went to a much-needed bed.
The Stadium & Fans:
Arthur W. Perdue Stadium is named for the chicken magnate of the same name, which is apparently headquartered in Salisbury, along with the stadium. The press box is similarly named for Frank Perdue, which those of you of a certain age will recognize from his unavoidable television commercials during the 80s.
Perdue Stadium is a fairly standard single-A park. Two entrances are at the top of stairs, leading to the upper promenade that rings most of the stadium above the entire seating bowl. The lower, middle entrance opens to the lower walkway around the park behind home plate. The upper walkway runs from left field to right field behind home plate and houses most of the concession stands. In right field is a party/picnic area with terraced tables down the seating bowl, while in left field there is the kids area, highlighted by a large carousel at the entrance. A picnic berm also sits at the end of the seating bowl in left. The lower walkway runs about the same distance, and separates the lower field boxes from the regular grandstand seating. There are kids concessions behind home plate (pizza and candy), but nothing else on offer. A club level rises above the regular seats from first to third base, with the "Executive Club" on the first-base side, the press box behind home plate, and a more open party area on the third-base side.
Somewhat oddly, the home dugout in the park is on the third-base side. This no doubt has to do with sun fields and which side of the park is more pleasant for day games. Two aging scoreboards in various states of repair sit out in left and right field, with the one in right seemingly only semi-functioning.
Next to the center entrance to the park is the Eastern Shore Baseball Hall of Fame Museum. It has a free admission and extensively goes into the rich baseball history of eastern Maryland, an area--perhaps ironically--that these days is known as the hotbed of lacrosse is the country. The museum has exhibits about all the previous and current teams in the area, sportcasters from the area, Negro League teams that played in Delmarva, as well as the Hall of Fame itself and an exhibit/meeting room on high school baseball in the region. It was a nice little museum that was clearly a labor of love for those involved, and you can't beat the price.
Even though it is only single-A ball, the fans came out and were quite into the game, if needing of some prompting in certain areas. The park was mostly filled with families out for some fun, and fun they seemed to have, so there's a good transaction. (Except, of course, for the Orioles' clubs continued mangling of the National Anthem with their "O" shout.) Of note was a young woman in my section who I'm imagining was a girlfriend or family member of one of the players. They moved her down to the box seats early in the game, and she spent the rest of the game taking pictures of the Shorebirds.
Sherman the Shorebird (sure, why not?) is the master of ceremonies for the minor-league hijinx between innings. The regular sponsored contests and t-shirt cannons are there, with a few wildcards like a cash box. One aspect defies easy explanation. A company called "Hardwire" sponsors the team, and, for lack of a better description, they make products for scared white people. They are, I kid you not, bulletproof shields that can be camouflaged into everyday school or office items, such as white boards. Now, we've all watched
The Wire, and I know Baltimore and DC can be rough places, but are the suburbs so over-run with gun crime that we really need this product? And--let's buy into the premise for a minute--if you do, is a white-board sized bulletproof shield
really going to be what saves you from a gunman? Nevertheless, they have the shields at regular intervals around the stadium, and they do a "Shield the Field" chant they do when they are trying to protect a lead. All in all, it might be the most bizarre thing I've seen at a ballgame, and I've watched Steve Traschel pitch.
At the Game with Oogie:
I got a ticket right around the home dugout on the third-based side when I called up in the morning. I was sitting in a row filled by a family. There was another family there before, but it turned out they were in the wrong section. The field boxes were not numbered in a straightforward manner, so perhaps their moving would have been a hint to check my own ticket, but I didn't until the owner showed up. He was with the larger group, and since there was a space next to my seat (well,
his seat), he let me stay put for the game. It being a pain to move in the middle of things with all my crap, I accepted his kind of offer.
The main concession stand had a foot-long corndog and a batting helmet full of fries (which seems to be the big thing these days), so my eating choice was a fairly obvious one.
The Game:
Well, this was a weird one. Let's just get this out there. It also included the strangest half-inning of baseball I think I've ever seen. Also, one of the teams was called the "Intimidators." Seriously, that is their name.
To start us off, the Intimidators managed a bloop single to center in the top of the first, and that and two strikeouts were all they had to show for it. The Shorebirds, however, started differently. The first batter hit a long fly ball to right-center. Both fielders were racing for it, the center fielder even got his glove on it--and deflected it to right field. By the time the ball hit his glove, the speedy runner was already around second. By the time they threw it to the plate, he didn't even have to slide, but he did, marking my first ever in-person inside-the-park home run, and a 1-0 Shorebird lead. After a flyout to third, the next batter got one off his fists to the same area that just went too far to catch, for a single. And the batter after him did the same thing to
right field, making it first and third with one out. A strikeout followed, but then so did
another fisted single to left to bring in the runner from third. A walk loaded the bases, but a ground-out to short ended the half-inning at 2-0, Shorebirds.
The Intimidators went in order in the second (with two more strikeouts), and the Shorebirds started their half of the second with another weak single off the fists just over first. A grounder to short got the lead runner, and then a weak fly to right was dropped, but with enough time to get the runner at second on a force-out, because there is no "outfield fly rule." A fly-out to right ended the threat. Just to mix it up, the Shorebirds struck out the side in the top of the third. Bad defense reared its ugly head again in the bottom of the third, and a grounder to short was throw into the dugout to start the inning. It was followed by a walk, but a double-play ball to short and a pop to first ended that threat, as well.
In the fourth, there were two more strikeouts for the increasingly mis-named Intimidators, but a runner made it to first after getting plunked. That batter also happened to be the only batter to get a hit off the Shorebird's starter so far, and I'm sure that's coincidental. The Shorebirds started their half with another bloop single to left, but the runner promptly got caught trying to steal. Two quick outs ended the inning. The Intimidators started off the fifth with a single to center, but a ground-out and a double-play wrapped up their half. The Shorebirds again started off the inning with a bloop single over third base, but a double-play and a grounder to short ended the inning.
It is worth noting at this point that the Intimidator's pitcher was a hard-luck case. The Shorebirds had a lot of hits, but every last one of them was off the hands. Bad defense accounted for most of the other baserunners at this point. The Shorebirds' pitcher, on the other hand, was dominating. He had nine strikeouts to this point, and the Intimidators hadn't even gotten a runner to second all game, and only four had made it to first.
This changed in the sixth. The first Intimidator batter got plunked and moved to second on a passed ball. A single made it first and third with no outs. Another single brought in a run and made it first and second with no outs. The first baseman ole'd a grounder to load up the bases, and the Shorebirds pitcher hit the showers. The new pitcher got a fly out to mid-depth left, but the fielder had such a gun the Intimidators didn't send the runner from third. With one out, there was another fly out to left, but this time, it was deep enough that the runner made it home on a close play. A strikeout ended the half with the score tied, 2-2.
Which brings us to the most bizarre half-inning of baseball I've ever watched. The first batter smoked one out of the park in the left-field corner to give the Shorebirds back the lead. A line-out to third was rather routine. A clean single to center followed, and a ground-out to second moved over the runner. The next batter grounded one to second, but the ball made a jump and got by the fielder, bringing the run all the way in from second.
The next batter is when things went nuts. The batter popped out to second to end the inning. The entertainment team was already coming out onto the field to do a horse race, when everyone stopped and ran back. The umpire had called interference on the catcher, as the batter hit the catcher's mitt when popping out. So now it was first and second with two outs. The next batter looked at ball four out of the strike zone. He didn't get a walk because the ball skipped off the catcher's mitt and bulls-eyed the umpire in a
particular spot. He was out of it for a good while. The trainers came out and everything. The original ball four was never resolved, but the batter walked on the next pitch, and that was it for the Intimidator's starter. The switch didn't help as the next batter doubled to left to clear the bases. There was a single to center that brought him in before a grounder to second ended this insane inning at 8-2, Shorebirds.
The Intimidators had some life in the seventh, with back-to-back singles to start the inning. A ground-out to first moved the runners up, but two strikeouts ended the half. The Shorebirds kept going in the seventh with a lead-off single. A pop to first got an out, but two more short singles loaded the bases. A grounder to second got the runner at second but brought in a run. A single brought in another run, and a wild pitch moved the runners to second and third with two out. A new pitcher got a ground-out to end the inning at 10-2, Shorebirds.
The Intimidators had a leadoff single and nothing else in the eighth, and the Shorebirds went in order. The Shorebirds' closer got the Intimidators in order in the ninth to cement a 10-2 win.
The Scorecard:
 |
| Intimidators vs. Shore Birds, 05/24/14. Shorebirds win, 10-2. |
The scorecard was a free hand-out at the gate. It was a small tabloid on shiny paper that made colored pencil usage rather difficult. The scorecard was in the centerfold and was a little on the cramped side. It used large diamonds in the boxes, which made charting the path around the bases easier, but it left little space for notes, which was desperately needed for this game.
As mentioned, there was a lot of wackiness. In the first place, every player promotion was fulfilled, which may be a first for me at a minor league game. The K-Man struck out. The "Healthy Hitter of the Game" got a single. And the "Home Run Inning" in the sixth was led off with a homer to left that netted some lucky fan a one-ounce gold coin, or some such.
I made a note of the first inside-the-park homer I saw. I may come up with a special notation for it (four lines in a box, maybe) if I feel ambitious for the future. I also made notes of the player promotions above. And then there was the home sixth. I made a note of the "F-4" that was erased by the catcher's interference. I also made a note about the walk that wasn't because the umpire got beaned in the beanbag. I don't even think is a scoring for such things.
Otherwise, there were other small things. The Shorebirds struck out 15 over the course of the game, which is a lot. The Intimidators didn't get a batter to second until the aforementioned sixth. And there were three double-plays in the game, along with three errors.
Ah, the joys of low-minors baseball.
The Accommodations:
Hoboken, early the next morning
2014 Stand-Alone Trip
