Scottsdale

On Actual Roadrunners

Scottsdale Stadium, 2016

Tuesday, March 8, 2016

Cincinnati Reds vs. San Francisco Giants
Scottsdale Stadium
Cactus League (Spring Training)
Scottsdale, AZ
7:05 PM

Outside the Game: 

I had the first of my semi-rare night games on this Tuesday, which was good for a number of reasons. Firstly, I had some time to actually go to things during the day as opposed to the early evening, which was less conductive for getting things done. Secondly, I needed the sleep, as I was woken up extremely early by the staff setting up the breakfast service and slamming the storage door across the hall from me all goddamn morning.

It was with extreme unction that I dragged myself to breakfast. I was cheered by my post-morning walk, as there were more dogs than usual, so there was therapy petting going on. I stopped after my walk at the gas station across the street and grabbed some bottled water to take with me during the morning, which was an ongoing concern in this literal god-forsaken desert.

Eh, it will do.

I went back to my room for a short re-nap and shower, and then I headed out for some actual day activity. My first stop was the Phoenix Zoo, because zoo. This was exciting for several reasons. First--not in an exhibit, but just running around--there was a wild road runner. And while it didn't quite directly go "meep-meep," it made a noise extremely similar to that. The experience left me floored for several minutes. This was a thing that actually happened. To me. In real life. Meep-meep.

Missing hat and rain coat

Also, they had an Andean bear in the collection, which will forever be known to me as a Paddington Bear. This also had me thrown for a loop, and if there was marmalade at hand, I probably would have thrown it into the enclosure and been forcibly removed from the facility. Also visible from the zoo was former governor George Hunt's tomb, which is a smallish pyramid on top of a small mesa. Needless to say, this was about everything I had every wanted in a zoo visit.

My second stop was the Heard Museum of Native American art. Given my locale, it seemed only fair to try and take in some of the culture of the people we stole the whole country from and then drove them to this state, which has the largest percentage of land owned by natives than any other. The museum was very interesting, and I learned a lot. Perhaps the oddest fact was that Conservative icon Barry Goldwater was an avid collector of Native American memorabilia and donated his extensive collection of Hopi Kachina dolls to the museum. It was a little disheartening to be on the guided tour and listen to what were clearly exasperated tour guides correcting people's incorrect facts on the natives, and saying, on several occasions, not just to avoid using "Indian," but "savages." We've come so far, haven't we?

Native ballclub

The museum had two separate museum stores, and I tried to not spend all my money here, and partially succeeded. I did spend a good deal on same contemporary native artists, but not enough that getting it all home would be a problem.

After my visit to the Heard, Honey Bears was literally right down the street, so it was a no brainer for a late lunch. I went back to the hotel and dropped off all my crap, took a quick nap and shower, and headed out to the park.

A fun fact was that this old stadium didn't have a parking area, so it took some driving around to find a public lot that I thought I would be okay staying in. After canvassing some Giants fans who were already there, it turned out I would okay in one lot and that I was lucky to be there, as it usually fills up pretty quickly, especially for night games.

Surprisingly, on the way back, there were no delays at all, and I drove back to the hotel easily. I packed it in as soon as I got back and went to bed for the afternoon game the next day.

The Stadium & Fans: 

Home plate to center field, Scottsdale Stadium

The Giants and Scottsdale is a match made in heaven. Much as the city of its major-league sponsor, Scottsdale is the upscale hipster capitol of the greater Phoenix area, with a very self-conscious image as an arts and culture center, and with a long history with baseball. As it stood, I spent my time elsewhere than "historical downtown Scottsdale" that afternoon, and I'm not quite sure I missed anything.

Scottsdale Stadium is one of the older parks still left standing in the Cactus League, and it has been kept up to modern standards by the Giants organization over the years. The stadium is parked right in the middle of downtown Scottsdale, which largely grew up around it. This means that the full practice facilities aren't on site (a few practice fields are directly behind the park), and there isn't even a dedicated parking area for the stadium. It worked out that I got there so early, as I was able to park in the closest public lot, which many people aren't able to do. The modus operandi seems to be that Giants fans get rooms somewhere within walking or transit distance and then come out to the park.

The stadium is plopped in the middle of the area, which has law courts past the outfield (with many, many signs warning you not to park there), and commercial properties across most streets. There are several entrances to the stadium. The main entrance is on the first base side of home plate, flanked with baseball art and the main ticket office. Another gate is by the second ticket office more around towards third base. Two other entrances are on the other side of the park: one in left field and one in center field (both with their own ticket office). The center field entrance has its own little plaza and a statue to Jim Hill.

The entrances all empty onto a main promenade that extends all around the outside perimeter of the park and behind the seating bowl. At the ends of the seating bowl, it hooks up with a smaller walkway that goes through the seating area. The lower seats by the field and the first few rows of the upper seating area are regular stadium seats, while the top half of the upper seating area and all of the seats on the outfield line are bleachers. All the seats in the outfield are one large picnic hill running from the left to right field corner. The giant digital scoreboard rises behind the picnic hill in left-center, and at the top of the upper seats runs an area of luxury boxes and press box from between the bases.

All the concessions are on the outer walkway behind the seating bowl, or in the outfield corners, so you can't get food and still see the game for the most part, except from the bunker-like center field concessions. In the right field corner is the Charro Lounge, a special seating area with its own bar and food concessions that you need to climb up to via stairway from the main promenade. A play area is behind center field, and a large party area is in left field corner. The season ticket holders have their own concessions area at the home plate plaza, a nice nod to the guys forking out the big bucks, I thought.

The park has a lot of nods to history. There's the Jim Hill statue by the center field entrance, the Arizona Fall League Hall of Fame, The Scottsdale Sports Hall of Fame, decorative home plates with baseball terms in the pavement, donation plates for sponsor on the pillars, a commemorative display to the Taiwan Exchange Program, and nearly everywhere they will fit, there are plaques for the Giants World Series Championships, in even year denominations. We'll have to see if they keep the magic this year. [Post-season note: They did not.]

Giants fans pack the house on a fairly regular basis, and the stadium was bursting for this rarish night game. They were very into the game, and the between-inning activities were kept to the most absolute minimum in the Cactus League. Solid baseball experience in a historic stadium. What more can you want, really?

At the Game with Oogie: 

Sausage and water

So, I was minding my own business, walking behind the batter's eye in center field. (I'd like to digress here and wonder why it is whenever a ball ever comes near me, it is under circumstances that are nearly physically impossible? I mean, really.) So, in the next second or two the following thing happened. A home run batting practice ball cleared the batter's eye by an inch or two on the downslope of its arc. It hit the railing on the walkway on the far side and bounced off at an angle, directly into the side of my right knee. I was still processing all this information as I was collapsing to the pavement when I looked up to see some fatass guy who saw the whole event run up and grab the ball and then run away faster than he probably had run in years. As I choked out an epithet at him, I started rubbing my knee to see how bad it was.

Luckily, it was right as I was completing my walk around and was about to head to my seat. I thought of the better part of valor, and eventually stopped into the first aid station to get an ice pack to put on the knee just in case. Whether out of concern or liability reasons, they found me in my seat and checked up on me in the late innings. But as for that fat, ball-stealing, even-yeared son-of-a-bitch, I hope he rots in hell.

Island noodles

On the food front, I got a Polish sausage, and, because it was available as a concession, a bowl of Island Noodles, as it seemed appropriate. As this was a popular night game, I was only able to get upper-section bleacher seats past first base in the last row. I ended up sitting next to a gentleman from the West Coast of Canada who was just down to watch some Spring Training. We struck up a conversation over questions on my ice pack and spent most of evening talking about my trips and what brought him to Arizona. As the scoring continued and the night dragged on, it was a pleasant enough way to spend the evening.

The Game: 

First pitch, Reds vs. Giants

A pitcher's duel this meeting of the Reds and Giants was not. And the outcome was probably dependent on the fact that it was an even year.

The Reds came out to an early start with a leadoff single, getting to second on a fielder's choice and then being driven in by a one-out single. A two-out homer to right-center brought them both in, and the Reds had a quick 3-0 lead. Not letting the aggression stand, the Giants started the bottom of the inning with back-to-back singles and then a walk to load the bases. Two slow ground-outs in a row to second scored two runs to close the gap to 3-2.

In the second, Cincinnati had a one-out double to center bunted to third, but stranded there, while the Giants went in order. The Reds stranded another baserunner in the third, but San Fran turned a one-out triple and two-out homer to dead center into two more runs to grab the lead, 4-3. That lasted until Cincinnati came up in the fourth with a leadoff double driven in by a single to tie the game up at 4. And that tie lasted the bottom of the frame, as a lead-off walk was followed by a single and a sacrifice fly to right to bring in a run to take the lead. A walk and single followed, but the runner from first was gunned down by the left fielder trying to make it to third before the runner scored, ending the threat with a 5-4 home lead.

The Reds had a two-out hit batsman in the fifth who made it to third on a two-base error by the left fielder, but both runners were stranded. San Francisco had a two-out rally with better results. It began with a walk and then two singles that brought in the lead run. A wild pitch scored the lead runner and moved the trailing runner to second. A walk made it first and second, and then a three-run homer sailed out of the park in right, leaving the Giants with a 9-4 lead. Both teams calmed down in the sixth, with the Reds stranding a single and the Giants stranding a walk.

Cincinnati got back on the horse in the seventh with two singles and then a walk loaded the bases. A wild pitch scored a run and moved everyone up. A double cleared the bases of two runs, and the score tightened to a 9-7 lead for San Fran. Not content with this turn of events, the Giants went on another tear in the bottom of the seventh. A leadoff walk was followed by a homer to left. There was another walk driven in on a one-out double to left. A triple then brought in the runner from second, and a single drove in that runner. Two outs closed it out with the score at a more comfortable 14-7 lead for San Francisco.

The demoralized Reds only managed a single in the top of the eighth, while the Giants weren't quite done yet. Three singles in a row with one-out loaded the bases. A ground-out to second only got the runner at first and advanced everyone else, scoring a run. A short two-out single got in another run in, but a strikeout ended the damage at 16-7. Cincinnati made a last attempt in the ninth, with a leadoff single erased on a fielder's choice. The trailing runner made it to second on a ground-out to third, and then he went over to third on a wild pitch, but a ground-out to first ended the game with a pointless 14-7 Giants win.

The Scorecard: 

Reds vs. Giants, 03/08/16. Giants "win," 14-7.

The scorecard was part of the full-sized, full-color magazine program. However, the scorecard is a cardstock insert at the centerfold, so it was good to use with pencils and didn't have any advertisements taking up space. There was even a page of scoring instructions. However, it was a one-page scorecard, so you must flip it over when you want to score different innings.

This was a fairly standard, high-scoring game, but some things of note. There was a two-base error on the Giants left fielder in the fifth in the course of butchering a fly ball. But the most unique thing in this game was that the Reds replacement center fielder and starting third baseman both had the same uniform number (7). There was no overlap, as both the center fielder and third baseman swapped out in the seventh, but it was pretty confusing to work out, even with announcements. I originally thought that the center fielder went to play third base, but I was able to read the jersey when he came up in the eighth. There was also the outfield assist in the bottom of the fourth, leading to a CS 7-5. Two runs scored in the game on two wild pitches.

The Accommodations: 

The maintenance guy showed up to deal with the fire alarm issue while I was out at the game or the zoo, or wherever. I could tell because the fire alarm was all put back together again from my gentle ministrations the night before. None of the other things I yelled at the front desk about had been fixed, though, and I was in no mood to argue by the time I got home from the game.

Click here to see all the photos from this trip.

2016 Cactus League

Tokyo

On Breaking a Streak

At least it ended productively

Thursday, July 1, 2010
Tokyo, Japan


Outside of the Game:
My time in Osaka complete, I had to grab a bullet train back to Tokyo at the Shin-Osaka station just north of town. Even though I was scheduled for a night game, it was still a three-hour ride, so I had to leave relatively early in the morning. After getting some decent bunk time, I had to choose between getting breakfast at the hotel, or using the last of the super spa salts and soak for a while. A quick inventory of my blisters made the decision rather easy.

My first indication that perhaps something might not be going my way this day was getting off on the wrong subway stop in Osaka on the way back to the train station. It was a straight shot, and I just wasn't paying proper attention to what was going on. Hang on to that piece of information, dear reader. Travel fatigue was getting to me in a big way.

My subway mistake was minor, and I still got to the station in plenty of time to catch the bullet train back to Tokyo without further to-do. Upon arriving at Tokyo Station, things continued to get interesting, in the Chinese curse sense of the word. When I left Tokyo last time, I had exited through the Shinjuku Station, and not Tokyo Station proper. Tokyo Station is a much larger entity by half, and it is also undergoing massive construction. I got off the bullet train tracks, which turned out to be at one far corner of the station, and was completely unable to get my bearing, find a map or information desk, or anything else useful, as the renovations had changed around the regular layout of the station, making the helpful maps useless. Getting increasingly flummoxed, I found a station master office, and implored pathetically for assistance. The staff were extraordinary helpful, and actually took me inside, sat me down, and then provided me with detailed maps on how to get to the subway line I needed to and then how to get to the hotel once I got off the subway. That, my friends, is known as customer service.

And although I had detailed maps in hand, I didn't understand part of the directions, which was to get on another subway line than the one I eventually needed to transfer to. Undaunted, I kept following the signs for the second line, and followed them, and followed them, and followed them, as the Hanzomon line wasn't at the station I was at, but the next station up the line. And although you can walk there, it is not suggested to take that multi-block and -stair trip dragging along some very heavy and unwieldy luggage.

Eventually getting to the subway line I needed, it was a short ride to the hotel, where I was again able to check-in early, drop off all my stuff, and head out for the game.

Now here's the thing. I made all my travel plans in January of this year. I worked out all my routes and whatnot, and for the most part, I used Google Maps, which provides kanji names on the maps, which I can't read. To this point, it had worked out. That's strike one. Secondly, the ticket that I had for this game came from a general ticket brokerage without easy designation of the teams involved on the outside. That's strike two. Then, as I mentioned before, I was suffering from a good bit of travel fatigue at this point, so I wasn't really in the mood to double-check things. Swing and a miss, sit down.

So what I managed to do was this: I perfectly followed my completely adequate directions to get to the wrong stadium. My actual game that night was at the Chiba Marines. My directions were to the Yokohama Bay Stars, as earlier in the planning process, I had meant to go to a game there. Not being able to read the kanji directions and without the team name prominently on the tickets, the error did not immediately jump out to my travel-addled mind. So I got to the wrong place without incident, wondered where everyone was, and then the penny (yen?) dropped when I got to the stadium. And the group of teenagers hanging out by the stadium started staring at the crazy white guy laughing like a maniac at his own stupidity. Because after 38 or so games on these trips, I wasn't finally undone by weather, or a delayed plane or train, or an act of god, but merely my own stupidity. And I've got to tell you, it was pretty damn funny. I took some pictures of the wrong stadium, but then it occurred to me that I had a chance to make the right game because I always get to the park so early.

There's no crowds because there's no game today.

I dashed back to the train station and asked the confused counter person the quickest way to get to Chiba from here, as soon as possible. She helpfully told me what train and connections to make, and I dashed back upstairs firmly convinced I could still salvage this thing. I got back to the juncture station I needed in time to make the other train, but I managed to get to the platform just as the train doors were closing and pulling away. It was going to be that close. I had to wait fifteen minutes for the next train, but if I managed to run the whole way to the stadium, I could still get there by first pitch. I waited impatiently for the train, took the long ride out to the station, and then promptly got off to see no one in baseball attire again. It was just five minutes before the game was to start and I was completely lost again. I managed to snag a kimonoed tourist office attendant as she was closing up her booth for the night. Her reward for a hard day's work was dealing with one last delusional American. She immediately spotted my error. I needed to go to a station in Chiba on another line, not the actual Chiba Station. If I took a half-hour monorail ride, I could get within a fifteen minute or so walk to the park.

And there it was. Since it was already game time then, another half-hour to forty-five minutes under the best case, I decided to call it a night. The streak was over. Hit the showers and get them tomorrow, kid.

On the train ride back to the hotel, I contemplated what to do with my night now that I had no game to go to. When I got back, I washed up, went to the front desk, and asked them where the nearest bar or restaurant was that served Japanese whiskey. They gave me directions to a Japanese pub (izakaya) place a few blocks away, and I settled into a counter seat flanked by salarymen drinking away the memories of the day. I got some comfort food and started ordering up the single malts on the menu. Japanese whiskey, at least the ones I had, weren't bad by a long shot, if on the slightly sweet side for some reason. The smokestack salaryman sitting on my right was also downing some whiskey, so we had a common bond that transcended our language barrier. While my Japanese wasn't great under normal circumstances (and after a whiskey or two, it was largely non-functional), but we managed to have a minor conversation based on pantomime and gestures, and "kampai" is pretty universal.

So many choices...

Suitably lit-up, I wandered around to west end of the Imperial Park that was a few blocks from my hotel, and walked around in the dimming night for a while, being passed by a myriad of joggers and bicyclists out for their nightly exercise in the utter safety of after-dark Japanese parks. When I got back to the hotel, getting a severely over-priced massage seemed like a good idea. Nearly every hotel in Japan has a massage service, and I finally gave in at the highest prices I had seen up to this point. I washed up while I was waiting, and then got the ever-loving crap kicked out of my back by a woman who weighed 90 pounds soaking wet. And as my drunk self was finally able to feel my feet again, I realized that this wasn't the worst way to spend a day, despite the setbacks.

At least it was a nice night...

The Accommodations:

Hotel Monery Hanzoman

I stayed at the swanky Hotel Montery Hanzoman, a high-end business hotel line that was placed right in the middle of the embassy district by the Hanzoman gate to the Imperial grounds. The hotel was conveniently located right across the street from the subway station, so as long as I remembered to get out of the correct exit, comings and goings were quite easy. The room was a slightly larger version of the room at the Washington Plaza, which was a slightly larger version of the rooms before it. There was a closet, a full bathroom (with a tub so large that I could actually lie in it without my knees being underneath my chin all the time), a separate desk area, and a queen-sized bed, with the now-familiar command console right above the bed.

As this was a high-end business facility, I finally got to see some formal bowing action going on. For most of my trip, I had been staying at tourist places or places low enough on the social totem pole that the full business bowing was not in effect. Of course, I had seen bowing in my travels, from the "'sup bro" bows between younger friends, to the friendly bows of greeting, to the cursory bows during regular commerce transactions, but this was the first time I had witnessed the full spectrum of the official business bows. It was a fascinating dance that followed very strict waltz-like rules, and it was strangely beautiful to watch in action.

Because I was literally a block or two away from both the UK and Irish embassies, it was of little surprise that BBC International was available on the TV. I have to admit that I left it on most of the time when I watching TV, as I was going through some rather severe English withdrawal at this point. I found myself talking to myself in pigeon Japanese by this point, so it was nice to get some sort of connection back to the mother tongue, though I have to say the complete media blackout that I had for most of the week was nice to have. Russian spies? Did we time travel into the 80s while I was gone?

On the End of Days in the Big Egg

Tokyo Dome, 2010

Friday, July 2, 2010
Hanshin Tigers vs. Yomiuri Giants
Tokyo Dome
16:00
Central League, Nippon Professional Baseball
Tokyo, Japan


Outside of the Game:
After the previous day's failure, I was not about to have a repeat performance. Thoroughly relaxed by the events of the previous evening, I dragged my now-noodly ass out of bed and went downstairs for the breakfast buffet before a quick shower and subway ride up to Tokyo Dome City.

Tokyo Dome City is the marketing name for the sports-entertainment complex around the dome. In addition to the regular team shops and whatnot, there is a shopping/entertainment area and one or two amusements parks all around the "Big Egg." And within the Dome itself was the Japanese Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum, which was my destination for the morning.

I suppose a certain amount of bias could be attributed to its location. I can imagine the uproar if the Cooperstown Hall was moved to Yankee Stadium, for example, but such niceties are less of an issue in Japan. Though the entrance to the Hall is on the ground floor, all of the exhibits are on an underground level one stairway down from the entrance.

Japanese Baseball Hall of Fame

Unlike Koshien Stadium's museum, they clearly received enough American visitors to require English versions of pamphlets, distributed to gaijin without even having to ask. This made the museum a little more comprehensible than its counterpart in Osaka. There was an area on "Japanese Baseball Today" very similar to the one found in Cooperstown, with each team represented by a locker with some artifacts and a history of the team. A section on the history of the game talks about its origins in America, and then its introduction in Japan, and I'm pretty sure there was a diorama of what might be the first game in Hoboken. There's also displays on the cross-overs between MLB and Japan, talking about all the series that were played between the two, as well as an exhibit of baseball cards of Japanese players that crossed over to the MLB.

Other areas talked about the importance of high school tournaments in Japan (especially Koshien), and in case you thought that corporate sponsorship was only extended to professional teams, Ronald McDonald standing over a little league team would like to disabuse you of that notion.

The Hall of Fame

The Hall proper was a slightly modernist affair from a design perspective, with recessed ceiling lighting and great pillars offsetting the wooden-framed plaques. At the far end of the Hall was a video display showing the previous year's inductees, and I learned that amongst the times in Japan when it is appropriate for a man to cry is his induction into the Hall. The plaques themselves lined both sides of the Hall, and were, unsurprisingly, in Japanese. However, each one had an English translation underneath, as well as a brief description in the English guidebook. I only knew a handful of the inductees by name, but it was pretty fascinating to read about all of them, from the early pioneers, to the more modern innovators and standouts.

There was an interactive exhibit towards the end that had computer terminals that gave overviews of the Japanese game, as well as let you play a few Japanese baseball video games. In the center of the exhibit was a batting simulator allowing you to stand in against a projected pitcher. I felt kind of foolish at not being able to make it work until some other Japanese visitors followed me into the area and were also suitably stumped. I felt better that it clearly wasn't the language barrier that was the problem here.

And in case you were wondering whether the Japanese took their World Baseball Classic victories seriously, there were no less than two exhibits on them, in addition to their other international play. They are clearly very proud of this accomplishments, and it seems to help erase a slight bit of the inferiority complex they still bear towards MLB.

After I had my fill of the Hall of Fame, I went outside and visited the team store and walked around the Tokyo Dome City amusements. Outside of an Adidas store was a statue of the Giants manager with his fists out. Apparently, the double fist bump had become the greeting of choice with the Giants, and the statue invited you to come up and give the manager double knuckles. A counter at the base of the statue counted up how many times people had done so.

Fist me! No, wait...

It was at this point that I was introduced to yet another Japanese line technology innovation. People were already lining up for tickets, and instead of standing out in the sun, they were saving their spaces by taping newspaper or other assorted paper to the spot in line with their name on it, and then going off to sit in nearby shade. It took a while to work out what was happening, but apparently this system works sufficiently well for everyone.

Some more wandering around found me in front of the Baseball Cafe, a touristy theme restaurant based on baseball. So of course I had lunch there. How can you saw no to a place that has a giant Tommy Lasorda sitting above the cash register? All the waiters and waitresses were dressed up in MLB jerseys, and all the tables had team patches inset in them. (I got put at the Expos table, and I'm not sure how I felt about that.) I decided to give it a whirl and try the burger of the day, which was some stroganoff thing. Well, the "burger" was served in a bowl, with a rice side dish, which is just as American as apple pie.

Just like Burger King

After lunch, I headed over to a place that was described as the geek homeland, and I am here to tell you, there is at least one corner of the globe where nerds are running the place, and it is Electric City. This area of several blocks are where the nerds of Tokyo retreat to when the jock samurai get too much, or something. What happens when the dorks take over? Let me tell you. The fact that there are wall-to-wall video game parlors, comic book and computer software stores, and video stores (some adult, some not) is pretty much a given. The fact that personal electronics and computer hardware stores are every five feet is similarly unsurprising, as are the countless hobby stores. But there are also tons of old-school tech stores, with storefronts dedicated just to light bulbs, or wiring, or outlets and plugs.

An outlet store. No, not that  kind.

And then there's the maid cafes. And this, my friends, is where the dark sides of nerds getting some power takes over. On nearly every corner is some woman dressed up in standard nerd fantasy wear (school girls, cat women, maids, etc.). A guide book I have describes it as such. You pay one of these women to be your hostess for a meal. She calls you "master" and serves you the food that you order. You can also play games with her. She'll ask you questions or give you brainteasers, and then rewards you with praise and points that you can use to get discounts or other items. So here it is: you get girls dressed in cosplay outfits to wait on you hand and foot and then reward you for being oh-so-smart. I think the only thing that saves this from being completely over-the-line creepy is that women can get men in dress-up to do exactly the same thing, so there is a swing for gender equality there. But still...

Somehow not prostitution

After visiting my ancestral homeland, I took a quick ride back to the hotel to get washed up, grab my game bag, and head back to the Dome in time for the opening of the gates. The subway home was also uneventful, and given my early start the next day to Sendai and my utter emotional and physical exhaustion after watching the game, I went right back to the hotel to pack up and go to sleep.


The Stadium & Fans:

Home plate to center field at the Tokyo Dome

The Tokyo Dome is one of the biggest parks in Japan, and it lives up to its dimensions. There is an entire patio deck area just across the pavilion from the stadium that has stores and food and fan gathering areas even before you get to the dome proper, which is ringed with stores and restaurants for visitors.

Once inside, the hallways are wide (if not tall), and with the exception of the luxury boxes and area behind home plate, you pretty much have the run of its spacious confines. There's the main scoreboard in center and the auxiliary scoreboard behind the plate, and there is on-field seating, heavily branded by the good folks at McDonalds. The cheering section is more firmly delineated with special "Giants Orange Seats" for full-season supporters, who seemed to guard their prestigious outfield seats very protectively. The upper deck goes three-quarters of the way around the stadium, tapering off to nothing in the outfield.

There are actually three interior levels to the park, with the main promenade level, the abbreviated upper deck, and then a lower level where they had the pre-game cheerleader and mascot show (due to rain outside), as well as more food choices and access to some of the luxury areas. The lower level also housed a Hall of Fame for Giants players, as well as a Walk of Fame for all the musical acts that performed at the Tokyo Dome over the years, leading to perhaps the only time history that Hammer and Paul Simon have ever appeared next to each other.

Pre-game mascot show

The Giants are the most popular franchise in Japan, and the most dominant in post-season achievements, inviting easy comparisons with the Yankees. Their fan base is the largest in the country, and seen as a little upscale, and the nearly capacity crowd at the game I attended seemed to bear that out. The opponent being the Tigers, there was a large and loud minority filling up the left field bleachers, and going at it in cheer battles with the home team even though heavily outnumbered. All the fans were into this intense rivalry, and the game surely provided them a platform for their various enthusiasms.


At the Game with Oogie:

Scoring in the Big Egg

I was perched about halfway up the lower deck right behind first base for this game. In my row, I was wedged between a younger couple who was there with the woman's parents and a group of businessmen out for a game. The girlfriend was perhaps the closest to a clueless fan as I saw in my entire trip, as she was cheering at the wrong times and sometimes joining in on the Tigers cheering (resulting in polite admonishment not to do that by the boyfriend). For all of that, she was still watching the entire game instead of talking on her cell phone to other people, and kept her girlfriend activities (like trying to take cell phone pictures of herself and the beau) to between innings.

Truly, a different world.


The Game:

First pitch, Tigers vs. Giants

Where to begin. This was already a much-hyped meeting between the biggest rivals in the entire Japanese league in a near sell-out at the biggest stadium in Japan. There is an inclination that the game can't possibly live up to the hype, but I'm here to tell you, it did. The Tigers claimed the first hit in the first (to the rapturous joy of their fans), but the runner never got further than first. The Giants answered back with a leadoff double (immediately, of course, sacrificed to third), but he didn't make it home, either. The Tigers got to scoring position in the second, but nothing came of it. And then the Giants struck. A leadoff homer got them on the board first, and the next batter singled and went to third on an error by the right fielder. The next batter was hit by a pitch, and with first and third and one out, of course the next batter laid down a bunt (and somewhere, Sparky Anderson is smiling). The second baseman charged hard and was able to make the throw in time to get the runner from third, but runners were left on first and second by the fielder's choice. The runner on second would come home on a hot grounder that ate up the Tiger's third baseman, before a groundout to third would end the inning.

The Tigers got to scoring position with nothing to show for it in the third, and beside a walk, the Giants did nothing in the bottom of the frame. A two-out double for the Tigers did nothing in the fifth, but a Giant's leadoff double was brought home by a two-out dinger in the bottom of the inning, setting the score at 4-0. Both teams had runners in scoring position in the fifth with nothing to show for it, and then went 1-2-3 in the sixth.

That's when the bottom fell out of the Giant's pitching staff. They would go eight batters before recording an out in the top of the sixth. A single and a walk chased the Giant's starter, and then the pen just exploded. A triple followed, scoring the first two runners on base. Another single brought him home, and then a walk and another single followed. Then the pinch hit brigade started. Yet another single was enough to chase that Giant's relief pitcher, and then a strikeout finally recorded a fraction of an inning, but was followed up with another walk, and the Tigers had batted around. The Giants got the leadoff hitter this time, but the next batter promptly beat out an infield single, but in your everyday 6-3-2 putout, the runner from third was nailed trying to advance on the hit after the throw to first was not in time to get the runner. We were now left with a 6-4 game, and the Tiger's fans cheering their lungs out.

Until the bottom of the seventh. The Giants got a leadoff walk and a single before the number 3 man struck out. A hot shot to first eluded the first baseman, leaving the bases loaded. Another strikeout seemed to give hope that the Tigers could get out of the inning. But then the Giants' pinch hit brigade began. The first got a single, bringing home two runs. The next batter (also a pinch hitter) doubled, leaving second and third with one more across. The next batter got plunked, but the Tigers managed to get the third out on a fly to left, and the Giants batted around and nothing more, but leading 7-6.

Rally after rally after rally

Not satisfied with the result, the Tigers came roaring back (I can't believe I just wrote that) in the top of the eighth with a single and a home run by their gajin first baseman that was absolutely crushed to deepest dead center, resulting in the Tigers fans erupting again in one of the loudest songs I'd ever heard. Incidentally, it was also a song I had never heard before, so there may very be a "we came back in the top of the eighth after giving up the lead" song. The Giants went quietly in the bottom of the inning, and the Tigers tacked on some much-needed insurance in the top of the ninth on a two-base error, followed by another longball from their leadoff hitter, giving them a somewhat comfortable 10-7 margin going into the last of the ninth.

The Giants fans made their presence known immediately, singing loudly enough to even drown out the Tigers. But after the first weak fly-out to right, the Tigers fans started counter-singing. When the next batter up took one out of the park to right, it was the end of the goddamn world. Both sides were singing at full volume in overlapping harmonies, with flags blazing and instruments blaring, that it just sent legitimate chills down my spine. The fact that it made less sense that both sides didn't whip out swords and charge at each other across the outfield can give you some indication of the energy at play here. As everything reached a fever pitch, the Tiger's closer was able to finally land the last two outs on a fly out to center and a grounder to second, leaving the Tigers the victor, 10-8.

No, really, just listen

It was, without a doubt, the most intense regular-season baseball game I've seen in my entire life. And the Tigers finally won a game while I was in attendance. It was also the only game that I saw in my entire trip that exceeded three hours by any meaningful amount of time (clocking in at 4:10), and I gladly would have had it go on another 4.


The Scorecard:

Tigers vs. Giants, 07/02/10. tigers win, 10-8.

Einstein had relativity; Michelangelo had the Sistine Chapel. The Scoremaster card that I filled out for this game, capturing every last move and pitch in this see-saw of nine innings of mayhem, will be known as my scoring masterpiece, if for nothing else than keeping the seventh inning in order from top to bottom and making sense of the small-ball and long-ball madness that drove it.


The Accommodations:
I was the Montery again. Nothing much of note in this regard. After getting back to the hotel from the game, I mostly did some preliminary work on my epic scorecard and then packed up and went to bed to prepare for my early train our to Sendai the next day.

Click here to see all the photos from this trip.

2010 Japan I