Port St. Lucie

On Seeking Karmic Justice

Clover Park, 2020

Friday, May 10, 2020

Houston Astros vs. New York Metropolitans

Clover Park

Grapefruit League (Spring Training)

Port St. Lucie, FL

1:05 PM 

 

Outside the Game: 

After another early night to bed (or, as it is known in Florida, "going to bed at the regular time"), I was up before 9 AM again, even losing the hour at the end of Daylight Savings. I showered, dressed, and grabbed my stuff to leave. The drive up to the park with my dad went quickly, but for some reason, my father just would not stop the car to let me out so I could go to the training area. He kept driving and driving until I eventually just left the car when he hit another red light. I mean, really.

The ballpark had undergone yet another renaming over the winter, now sporting a "Clover Park" moniker after yet another sponsorship deal. (The Clover wasn't luck this year, was it, gentlemen? WAS IT?)

I took some pictures of the new features outside (more on that later) and went out to the still ramshackle entrance to the training area. Thanks to my father's recalcitrance to dropping me off, I only had under ten minutes before they started closing up. I took my pictures and went on my way directly to the team store before the big crowd from the training area got back. The store was much improved and enlarged, I made my misguided purchases and got on line to get in.

Thankfully, there was shade on the line, and I occupied myself reading a Stengel biography on my Kindle. Eventually, the gates opened up, and I was quickly inside the complex.

On the way out, we had a big wait for my father again, who had to go before we went while the bathrooms were overflowing with people waiting to do the same. As it turned out that this was the tenth year we were doing these Spring Training trips, we got together in a dugout photo op outside the park and took a picture. My father would eventually send it to me a week later just as the lockdown started, and it was a weird reminder of the world that was.

I napped on the way back to the condo, showering and packing when we arrived. Just my parents and I went out for a Sunday dinner again at a local Italian place that liked to serve up lots and lots of food that was acceptable enough. Back to the condo we went, and I watched some TV on my tablet while finishing up packing and going to bed early again for the flight the next day.

The Stadium & Fans: 

Home to center, Clover Park

So the newly renamed Clover Park was the latest in the carousel of names the Mets' Spring Training facility has had over the years. The newest one is the naming rights for a point-of-sale company, and the "clover" name didn't turn out too lucky, but we didn't know that at the time.

In the off-season, in addition to the name change, the park has had a bunch of improvements, both cosmetic and structural, and it really did invigorate the old concrete lump of a stadium as much as is probably physically possible.

Starting on the outside, the entrance to the training facility was moved from behind left field to behind right field, and was slightly more pleasant than before. The training facilities themselves got a bit of an upgrade, with some photo points added in, and most of the fields getting some TLC besides.

Outside the park got a big renovation as well. The largest was the consolidation of all the entrance gates into one big entrance right behind home plate, no doubt to accommodate the now-mandatory metal detectors. The old gates in left and right field are gone, and now the home plate entrance dumps out into a largish-plaza area with a stairway straight up the main promenade.

The outside of the park underwent other upgrades and changes. The 9/11 and other memorials were moved a short distance, and the outside was clad in orange and blue banners showing players and luminaries both past and present, with the home run apple added to the elevator spire. The team store was moved and renovated from its claustrophobic former self into a two-story space that had entrances both outside and inside.

Once inside, most of the interior was gussied up and changed, mostly for the better. The walkways have all been mostly wallpapered with logos and slogans from years past, as well as things like 1969 World Series' tickets and scorecards, and rather clever mixed photos of old and new players together, such as Tom Seaver and Jacob DeGrom holding onto Cy Young awards. Members of the Mets hall of fame are on banners affixed around the park, as well. For a team that usually does really poorly with its history, this was a nice change of pace. All the victory pennants and the like are now houses on the press box deck behind home plate.

The left field area was complete redone into the Budweiser Terrace and the Jim Beam Bourbon Bar, with stairs leading down into the Training Complex. The right field berm was re-christened the SunCoast Sun Deck. It wasn't all good, as most of the concessions stands were standardized, and things like the UltiMet Grill were moved out to the outfield--a shadow of its former self--and all the other specialty food stands seemed to have been removed.

Let's get this out of the way: It was the first Spring Training match-up with the Metropolitans and the Astros after the cheating scandal of the year before. (Can I even remember when it was really important?) People were starting early and often banging on the trash cans around the field in mockery of the Astro's cheating signals of previous years. Pretty quickly, the staff asked people to stop banging on the trashcans. This led quickly to something they couldn't really prevent, which was banging the plastic chairs, which sounded almost as good, and there was certainly a lot more volume through so many people doing it.

The Asterisks were booed the entire game. Every single guy who came up got booed pretty unmercifully, and since it was a split squad game, there weren't even that many regulars there, but Verlander was pitching, and he got it both barrels until he was pulled. It was a nice mob justice moment, but it was ultimately blunted by the fact that it didn't achieve anything except piss the Astros players off--but really, that is all we could have hoped for.

At the Game with Oogie: 

The last of the spring scoring

As mentioned, this was the yearly game with my family down in Florida. I had my parents call everyone and warn them that the clocks moved ahead that morning. They ended up mostly showing up before the end of the first, but it was everyday issues that caused the delays, not the clocks.

I was all by myself for most of the pre-game. I walked around to see all of the improvements to the parks, take my pictures, and get some chicken tenders and fries from the Ulti-Met Grill, which had inexplicably moved around the stadium as well. I took a run through the team store that was open from the inside of the park, as well, before settling into my seats and waiting for everyone else to show up.

We got into the cheering and booing as much as anyone. It felt a little cathartic to have our moment of hate for the Astros, and it really did seem to bother the players, which made it even better.

 

The Game:

First pitch, Astros vs. Metropolitans

This meaningless Spring Training contest between the Metropolitans and Houston Asterisks only gained meaning in that it was a fight of good versus evil, and good won. Also, Verlander and Thor were starting.

The Asterisks went quietly in the first in order, while New York stranded two singles. Again falling under the power of Thor, Houston again went in order, while the Mets stranded only one single this inning. The Asterisks started strong in the third, stringing back-to-back doubles into a run, while New York went order for their half, with Houston at a 1-0 lead after three.

With Thor out, Houston managed a lone double in the stop of the fourth, while the Mets did their darndest not to score. A leadoff walk was erased on a double-play, while a double was followed by a single, with the lead runner getting gunned down at home. The Asterisks went in order in the fifth, but New York got going with a single and two doubles turning into two runs, to give them a 2-1 lead. Houston stranded a walk and a hit in the sixth, while the Mets went in order.

The Asterisks only had a leadoff single to show for the seventh, while New York stranded an error and a single. In the eighth, Houston went in order, but the Mets started their half with a homer to left, ending their half with a now 3-1 lead. The Asterisks repeated a Mets achievement from earlier in the game in their half of the ninth, with a one-out single getting gunned down at the plate on the double that followed, securing the Mets pointless--but upstandingly moral--3-1 victory.

The Scorecard: 

Astros vs. Metropolitans, 03/08/20. Metropolitans win, 3-1.

The scorecard was the centerfold in the $5 Spring Training program. Disappointingly, it was still on glossy paper with colored backgrounds, making it the worst for pencil scoring and erasing. For no good reason, a quarter of the top of each side was wasted with generic baseball pictures, though there was white space around the edge of the card for notes. Scoring tips and rules and regs took up another 10% of the bottom of the card, leaving only about half of it for the scorecard.

The scorecard itself lacked pitching lines. I added them in an unused box at the bottom of the lineups. The scorecard featured 17 player lines, just enough to not have space for each player and a replacement. The player lines were number, player, and position, and had 11 columns for innings, ending in at bats, RBIs, runs, and hits. Each column had a split, presumably for runs and hits per inning.

There weren't a lot of plays of note. In the bottom of the first, a hit was ruled a single when it was really an E6. In the bottom of the fourth, a runner on second tried to score on a single and got caught at home CS 9-3. Similarly, in the top of the ninth, there was a runner on first trying to score on a double who was cut down CS 7-6-2. The only other noteworthy event was in the bottom of the eighth, when a hitter got a single to left against the shift that I thought was worth of a word or two.

The Accommodations: 

Back at my parents' condo for the evening before my flight the next day.

On the Coming Storm and Amazing Symbolism

Airports, always too early

Monday, March 9, 2020

Jersey City, NJ

 

Outside the Game:

Those of you keeping track of dates will notice that this is the Monday of the week when everything got shut down. As you'll remember, the country, the government, and especially Florida were largely ignoring things as infection numbers started to go through the roof.

I had bought a seat upgrade the night before for a window seat and premiere boarding, so I got up this morning with little concern, showered, and finished packing before the short drive to the airport. Except when we got to the airport, it was was anarchy: police everywhere, backups, check points. Our beloved leader was coming down to golf again through West Palm Beach Airport, no doubt thinking of the decisive action he was going to take on the pandemic that was raging around him. I eventually got dropped off at the terminal with time to spare, but the security line took longer than at Newark and I got the gate just before boarding was to start. I ran next door to get a Croissanwich from the Burger King and ran back just to hear that boarding was delayed.

It was short, however, and we boarded close to on time. I was in a row with an old lady, and we had a seat empty in the middle of us, which, in retrospect, was probably a good thing. There were people who were freaking out and wiping down everything in their seat area with cleaners and disinfectants, but I thought it obsessive at the time. The airlines were already cleaning the planes. Wiping down your tray table wasn't going to save you from this thing when we were all crammed in together otherwise. No one at this point was wearing masks.

I spent most of the flight asleep, and we got off at Newark after another small delay, related to the president flying out earlier in the day, so Trump got me coming and going. I called a Lyft and went home to unpack and do laundry and other things necessary before the return to work on Tuesday, though it would only be for two days...

The Accommodations: 

Back in my apartment, which I would become intimately familiar with over the next several months...

POSTSCRIPT:

I hope everyone out there reading this is safe and sound with their friends and families. This isn't a hoax and shouldn't be political. Wear your goddamn masks (even you, Karen) and stay distanced, and we'll get through this all.

Click here to see all the photos from this trip.

2020 Spring Training

North Port

Okay. Let's talk a little, shall we? Things got weird. Things got really, really weird. I went to see Spring Training games the first week of March, and then the world exploded. Like, a lot. Since that weekend, I have spent every weekend since then in my apartment, and that's a lot of weekends.

I haven't even really been able to force myself to look at the materials from this trip until the resolution of the labor dispute, Summer "Spring Training," and the promise of the shorterned season opening. With the way the covid epidemic is running in the country currently, we'll see how long it lasts, with many of southern teams located in states that are seeing murderously high new infections.

I hope anyone reading this is safe and healthy. We're all in this together, even if we don't want to be. Wear your damn mask outside, stupid. If you're too sick to wear a mask, you're too sick to be outside in a pandemic. If you're too selfish to wear a mask, you're too selfish to live in polite society.

On Ducking the Weather and Transit Problems

Terminal C, Newark Liberty 'Merica Eagle Airport

Thursday, March 5, 2020

Boyton Beach, FL

 

Outside the Game:

Work was stressful and annoying, and I was unfortunately getting nowhere looking for a new job, so I was in an unpleasant mood to begin with. But I managed to get all my work for that day done before having to leave, and I was out in the world at 5:30 PM for a quick subway ride up to Penn Station.

As luck would have it, I just missed a train to Newark Airport, so I called my parents, and as I was watching the big board, all the trains after the one I just missed changed to "DELAYED," as I would find that there was a train stuck in the tunnel out of the city. Fan-tastic.

I managed to scrum my way on the next train out and make a passive-aggressive Karen move so I could get the empty center seat in a packed car, and I was even able to take a short nap on the way to the airport. Except when we got to the airport, the monorail was out of service, because of course it was. After more delays, I got to the terminal, and actually had a quick run through security for once to balance out some of my karma. 

With a little time, I had a quick dinner at the diner and then rushed off to board my flight. I got in first with my group and was able to secure an overhead space and slump into my window seat. I spent most of the flight reading and doing Duolingo and watching pieces of movies, including Rise of Skywalker, which was even more awful than I imagined it being.

As we were approaching our destination, we had to detour around a large thunderstorm for a half-hour, putting us in late at West Palm Beach. People in general don't know how to exit a plane, but they were especially annoying this time, with multiple human blockages causing multiple-minute backlogs in the aisles before I was able to escape and meet my father for the short drive back to the condo.

I was about done for the day at this point, so I set up all my stuff for the game the next day, downed my pills, and went to sleep in the guest room in my parents' condo.

The Accommodations: 

I was the sole resident of the guest room in my parents' condo again. It hadn't changed.

On Satan's Nice New Home

CoolToday Park, 2020

Friday, March 6, 2020

Boston Red Sox vs. Atlanta Braves

CoolToday Park

Grapefruit League (Spring Training)

North Port, FL

1:05 PM 

 

Outside the Game: 

I had another crappy night's sleep. To be honest, I don't really remember why; it could just have easily been travel stress, and work stress, or just general stress. Either way, my alarm clock nearly gave me a heart attack when it woke me up, and my beleaguered ass took way too long to get moving, with me not heading out on the road in my mom's car until 7:15 AM or so.

The first challenge for my sleep-deprived self was that the address for the new stadium didn't show up in my GPS, probably as the stadium was brand-new on brand-new roads in a brand-new development. At any rate, I found a golf course near the stadium location, put that in the magic talky box, and I was on my way.

Outside of some traffic heading to Alligator Alley, there was not many people as all as I crossed through the abandoned heartland of this misbegotten state. It seemed as though I was on 75 forever, though in a small mercy I found a commercial-free block of music on some classic rock radio station that carried me through most of the ordeal, accompanied by a sad little light rain for most of the transgress.

As we got nearer, I started looking for signs for the stadium, which were nowhere to be found. In my earlier research, I saw that the park was right next to a local college. Seeing signs for the college, I decided to follow them and hope for the best, and I was finally able to stumble upon the well-hidden stadium.

I had just enough time to park up, take pictures outside, and get into the game at the opening of the gates. 

On the way out, I took it slow. I was in no rush to get anywhere, and arriving at the hotel early did not afford me any great opportunities in the area, so why bother? Especially since there was a jam-packed parking lot that wasn't moving anyway. I visited the little boy's room, called my parents to tell them my plans, and by then, most of the traffic jam was gone.

I had an uneventful drive to my hotel where I checked in and dropped off all my crap. I drove around the area a little bit looking for dinner, eventually settling on a Five Guys. I stopped for gas for the car on the way back (as my mom's car had a busted gas gauge, and you can't be too careful) and headed back to the hotel.

The room sort of fought me the rest of the evening. Well, with some help from me. I tried to make some tea, and then forgot about it, as I always do. I warmed it briefly in the microwave, which must have been some Bruce Banner-related contraption, because in under 10 seconds, it took that tea to nuclear hot. I then had to jury rig the bath tub to be able to take a proper bath to soak out the travel troubles.

But I soak I did, and caught up with some TV on my tablet, and then had a relatively early evening.

The Stadium & Fans: 

Home plate to center field, CoolToday Park

CoolToday Park, except for the awful, awful name was--like many parks in the Braves' organization--well-thought out, appreciative of its past, modern but not obnoxious, and an all-around wonderful facility, which made me hate it even more. They seem to be trying down here to pull the same magic they did with the new commercial zone around their park in Atlanta, rising "North Port" out of the ashes of suburban Venice Beach. Their success in that endeavor was much more muted than their triumph in Atlanta, with just an unfinished mini-mall and a bunch of empty condos to show for their efforts so far, but I wouldn't count them out just yet. Stupid, sexy Braves.

The outside of the park is well-designed, with the centerpiece being a hall of fame plaza before the home plate entrance that has sculptures of all the braves' retired numbers, right next to a giant green area where there are cornhole games and the like. The park has three numbered entrances, as well as VIP and press entrances, with Braves' players lining the rises around the park. In the under-construction parking lots (currently a damp, dirt field), there is the entrance to the league-standard training area, with its scout tower around all the practice and skills fields.

Once you get in, you go up stairs respectfully decorated with Braves' luminaries and are dumped out on the main promenade that circles the park, all the while being serenaded by a guy in a Braves' uniform playing the accordion. You read all of that correctly. And it was somehow fun and not cringeworthy. I seriously hate the Braves. The single seating bowl descends from the promenade all around the park. There is the standard minor-league second level that runs from third base to first base around home plate that hosts the press boxes, luxury boxes, and a second deck of seating.

Seriously, how is this charming?

The outfield is littered with special areas. The left field corner is anchored by the Tomahawk Tiki Bar, which is next to a picnic berm that extends out to center field. Just in left-center is the main digital scoreboard, above the "Budweiser Bench" for some reason, and the batter's eye in dead center. A raised area of seats called the Truist Pavilion hangs over the home bullpens in right-center, next to the Centraui Insurance Super Suite built into the right field corner wall. All the ads on the outfield wall are in white on green, and it all looks out to a backdrop of blue sky and palm trees.

Regular and specialty concessions ring the park, along with more player tributes and a now de rigueur POW seat. Baseball quotes are scrawled across the buildings in the park, and they even found a way of making the area behind the batter's eye useful, turning it into a huge bank of bathrooms. The team store is also airy and well-organized. Christ, do I hate the Braves.

It being an early Spring Friday game in a new park with the Red Sox visiting, the place was packed, and the crowd was into the meaningless contest. Ambiguously fuzzy mascot Blooper ran the on-field entertainments. Mostly he spent his time wandering the stands and interacting with fans. The on-field between-inning stuff was kept to a minimum, with giveaways and contest and the like.

The only real criticism that I can wield against the place is that their scoreboard operators were awful. Now granted, it is hard to keep up with all the late-inning changes in a Spring Training game, but at one point, they had two people playing first base and the same guy at two positions. That, my friends, is just slop.

At the Game with Oogie:

Fingers du Pollo

I got in with the first wave of the gates opening, bought my program and did my usual walk-around and pictures. My food stops were for a chicken basket and the world's tiniest brat. The brat guy was from Union City and saw my hat and we talked a bit. Jersey is everywhere, baby. A number of people thought I was press, and I increasingly think that is because only press people walk around with real cameras anymore now that smart phones are a thing.

Spring scoring

My seats were just to the right of home plate, and it was a packed house that day. There was an adorable old couple next to me and an two old guys on the other side, with a big family taking up the row in front. Nothing really to mention with them, although there were a lot of Red Sox fans in the house as well, although my section was pretty solidly Braves' fans. There was a gap in the protective netting where two nets overlapped that let them throw things safely out to the crowd from the field, which was another nice feature that I hated the Braves for having.

The Game: 

First pitch, Red Sox vs. Braves

The Red Sox faced the Braves in this "let's just hope the entire stadium burns down" meaningless Spring Training contest. Despite all the strikeouts, this wasn't a pitcher's game, with the home team eeking out a bit of a slugfest.

The game started quickly enough, with the Sox going in order in the first. Atlanta was quicker out of the gate, with a walk and a single turning into an early 1-0 lead. Boston stranded a leadoff walk in the top of the second, while the Braves had the same result after a single and an error. The Red Sox got going in the top of the third, with a leadoff single going to third on a one-out single and then scoring an odd double steal (see below), while a fielder's choice scored the trailing runner and gave the Sox a 2-0 lead. Altanta went in order in their half.

Settling in, Boston went in order in the top of the fourth, but in the bottom of the frame, the Braves tied it up with a home run to left, knotting it at 2-2. The Sox only had a double to show for the top of the fifth, while Atlanta left a double and a walk on the basepaths for their half. Boston erased a leadoff single with a double play in the sixth, while the Braves stranded a couple of walks for their part.

The Red Sox left a two-out walk on the bases in the seventh, while Atlanta manufactured a run with a leadoff single that stole second and a single to follow, edging them out to a 3-2 lead. The wheels came off the bus in the eighth. In the top, three singles and two walks quickly added up two runs, giving Boston a 4-3 lead. In the bottom of the eighth, the Braves did them one better, where a bunt single started a rally of a single, a walk, and a triple, bringing in four and giving the Braves back a 7-4 lead. 

The Sox did not going quietly in the ninth. A leadoff walk was followed by a single. Another single brought the run in, and another one-out single and E4 left it first and third. A walk loaded the bases, but a grounder to third led to the run being cut down in a force at home. A strikeout ended the game with the winning run on the bases, preserving a meaningless 7-4 Atlanta win.

The Scorecard:

Red Sox vs. Braves, 03/06/20. Braves win, 7-5

The Braves scorecard was a one-page cardstock insert in the $5 Spring Training program. In keeping with the parent club, the scorecard is just one page, cramming everything in somewhat efficiently. There is some whitespace around the card itself, allowing for notes.

The teams are stacked on top of each other, with player lines split in two for replacements, bracketed by player number and position. Eleven innings of scoring boxes are presented, with by-inning run/hit breakdowns at the bottom of each column. Each row ends in totals for at bats, runs, hits, and RBI. Pitching lines are underneath for five pitchers (pretty stingy for Spring Training), along with cumulative lines for pitching stats in each row. There is a totals box next to the pitching lines for errors, doubles, triples, home runs, stolen bases, and time of game.

There were a number of plays of literal note in the game. In the bottom of the first, a Braves' "single" was the ball falling between two fielders. The top of the third also had two odd plays. With one out and a runner on first and third, the runner on first stole second. The throw to second was late, and the runner on third broke for home. The catcher botched the throw home, scoring a run and moving the runner on second to third on an E2. The next batter hit the ball to third. He tried to make an unsuccessful play on the runner from third going home, but the catcher got the slow runner going to first in a routine 5-2-3 put out. The bottom of the second featured an RBI single getting gunned down going for two on the throw home in a blase' CS 8-2-6.

The Braves six pitchers combined for 15 strikeouts. Beside that, nothing else noteworthy.

The Accommodations:

Days Inn, Bonita Springs

I ended my day at the Days Inn & Suites in Bonita Springs. The area was a weird mix of tourist and golf resorts and nothing, and for the money, it was an okay situation, my inability to make tea correctly notwithstanding.

The entrance to the room had the smallish bathroom right off the entrance on the left. It had the big backlit vanity mirror, a wall-length sink, toilet, and the requisite shower and tub, which I would make good use of.

The bedroom area had two double beds split by dressers on one side, and a desk, small dresser, TV, and luggage rack on the other. It wasn't quite fancy, but it got the job done, especially as sleep-deprived as I was.

On Using Loneliness to My Advantage

I can fly, bitches.

Saturday, March 7, 2020

Naples, FL

 

Outside the Game:

I finally had a good night's sleep under me, so I was up early this morning. I went down full of hope for breakfast, but it turned out to be a sad little buffet with no hot food. I ate and returned to my room for a nap, disappointed by the whole experience and my stomach a little worse for wear from the experience.

I woke up again and puttered around the room until about 9 AM. I finished packing up, checked out, and then took the short drive to the zoo--which I made a little longer by missing the exit twice going in both directions, before successfully making a right turn like a normal person.

Managing to park with much less trouble, I was in the midst of a giant swarm of people, as I would find out today was free admission for county residents at the zoo. Realizing that time was not going to be my friend today, I made a bee-line for the monkey island boat tour as soon as I got in. The boat tour was the only real line in the zoo for a flat-bottomed boat ride around the various islands housing the various monkey species in the zoo. It was the only way to see the popular monkeys.

By the time I got there, the line was already pretty beefy, but it was moving, as they had three or four boats going at once because they were correctly expecting big crowds. My wait was even further abbreviated by being by myself. With such big crowds, they were looking fill every seat on every boat, so when they piped up for people by themselves, an older Asian lady and I were able to sheepishly cut half the line to get some pretty nice seats at the front.

We all took our nice ride around the monkey islands and then were set free to wander the zoo. I smugly noted the line for the boats had gotten quite epic in our short absence. I wandered around taking pictures, until it was time for the animal show in the arena by the entrance, where again I was able to slide in at the last minute by occupying an empty single seat.

After that, it was a leisurely wander around the zoo taking pictures before getting some cash and eating at the only option in the zoo, a sad little Win Dixie kiosk serving quick-stop food. I eventually made my way around the rest of the zoo before stopping in the gift shop on my way out. There was no WIFI in the zoo, and I was trying to get directions to another museum in town. Thankfully, when I got back to my mom's car, the GPS had the museum in its system, so I took the short drive downtown to see it.

The Naples Depot was a free museum--as you might guess--in the old train station in Naples. It is one of these places that I would never even think of visiting under normal circumstances, but that these trips give me the opportunity to discover. I found out some interesting history about the train lines that opened up central Florida, and even a little bit about dune buggy culture. So, you know, check mark for Saturday.

The museum also had two train cars open for visitors in the back on the remains of the tracks. One of them had a nice old man named Dan working inside. As can happen, Dan and I got to talking, and I found out that he had sponsored the restoration of the Lincoln hearse in the museum near his hometown in Illinois (he was a snowbird like my parents). He also had a son living in China at the time, and we had a long discussion about the stories we were hearing and how bad it was over there. His son was largely restricted to his hotel and was otherwise fine and looking to come back home where it was safe. (If only he knew what we know now. He'd probably be safer in China at this point.)

Seriously, I learned things.

I eventually took my leave and drove back to my parent's condo. It was a lazy afternoon of getting organized for the game the next day and a nap. Since the extended family couldn't get its act together on the traditional pizza party we have when I come down, it was just going to be my parents and I going out to dinner this night. As we headed out to dinner, we found that the car had died sometime in the afternoon. (It would turn out to be an alternator problem.) With this added stress, we took another car to dinner at a local Italian place. It was notable because the service was very slow, and I surmised (correctly, as it would turn out) that it was because a lot of staff had called in sick. If only we could have seen the signs ahead of time...

We eventually got back to the condo, changed all the clocks that needed changing, and I went to sleep as early as possible for the next day.

The Accommodations: 

I was back at the condo again, and really, really annoyed by the clap light that evening for some reason I can't remember.

Click here to see all the photos from this trip.

2020 Spring Training Trip

Port St. Lucie

On the Weather

Wednesday, February 20, 2019
Jersey City, NJ


Outside the Game: 
I decided to go down to visit Spring Training again this year after a two-year gap. (It fell right after I got back from Australia last year, I was unable to get the vacation time for some reason.) Since my last few forays into March baseball had ended with the deaths of relatives, I had restricted myself to February, where Opening Day for Spring Training would suit my purposes, hopefully without mortal danger to my relations in my parents' generation.

So, I was supposed to fly out after work Wednesday, and, of course, the most difficult client in the world was in the way, as we were scrambling to try and make one of her unrealistic deadlines for a presentation by the end of that week.

The weather, as well, wasn't quite cooperating. It was set to uncharacteristically crack into the high fifties on Thursday, but Wednesday was greeted by the promise of an east-coast-wide snow storm. Regardless, I came to work with my luggage and in my travel clothes, but at around 3 PM, in the space of fifteen or so minutes, I got three updates from JetBlue informing me that 1) my flight had been delayed 3 hours, 2) my flight was cancelled, and 3) I was rebooked on the 6 AM flight the next morning. Given that they completely shut down the northeast airspace, it was about what you'd expect.

I confirmed my seat for the morning flight the next day and then went back to work, staying later than normal to try and sort out as much as possible. As I trudged home in the snow-turning-to-rain, I was not happy with the world. On getting home, I booked a car for the next morning and then tried to get to bed, as I would be walking up at 4 AM to make my flight. Just as I had laid down in bed for fifteen minutes or so, I got a call from the car service to confirm the ride I had booked no later than a half hour before. I grunted angrily through a call with them and then eventually drifted off to sleep at around 10 PM.


The Accommodations: 
Jersey City, against plan

On A Really, Really Long Day

Terminal "A" for awful

Thursday, February 21, 2019
Boynton Beach, FL


Outside the Game: 
There should not be a 4 AM. We only need the one in the afternoon. Really. I'm fairly certain I can prove it, or least show the absolute moral case for it.

At any rate, my day started at 4 AM. I slumped my way through a shower that sort of woke me up enough to get dressed and meet my car service downstairs. The only bright spot was at this ungodly hour, there was no traffic at all on the roads. I think I counted perhaps a dozen cars on the road the entire trip to the airport, which was under 15 minutes.

We were at terminal A (for awful), and upon getting to security, I was presented with a line that was far too long for this time in the morning. I can only surmise that all the bumps from flights the night previous led to all the first flights out this day being packed. But as proof of god hating me, I waited a half hour on a security line at 5 AM.

I eventually got into miserable terminal A, and after grabbing some food at one of the only two open stands in the entire miserable terminal, I lined up for my flight. The West Palm Beach flight was right next to the Tampa flight, and it was a subway series as all the people in Yankees gear were lined up for the Tampa flight, and the Mets fans were lined up for WPB. Thankfully, boarding went without issue. Thanks to the bump, I was in the bitch seat at the back of the plane, but I got in quickly when my boarding group was announced, and I got overhead space without incident.

The person in the window seat was an all-too-chatty account executive, but thankfully the aisle seat was filled by a woman who did not want to talk. We got off on time, and I was able to get a beverage and snacks before drifting to sleep, an act made more difficult by the fact that the woman in the middle seat across the aisle insisted on keeping the window shade up so she could work, so I had to huddle away from the sun as best as possible to get some sleep.

Outside of the shade being up and our flight crew thinking they were way more witty than they actually were, the flight went fine. I called my father when we landed, as he instructed me to do, and I would eventually be yelled at about that because what he meant to tell me was to call him when I was ready to be picked up, and I have not yet developed the necessary telepathy to discern that.

We did eventually get together, driving to a nearby restaurant. I wasn't quite sure if I was hungry or not, but as I managed to put away a huge breakfast, I lean towards the idea that I was at least peckish. We drove the rest of the way back to my parents' condo, where I took a further nap to try and get back into the land of the living.

Modest staircase

That one held, and I headed out into the afternoon in my mother's car to visit the nearby Flagler Museum in Palm Beach. This was the Florida mansion of the co-founder of Standard Oil, who also built the eastern Florida railroad, and then bully-headedly kept going out to Key West (although a subsequent hurricane would destroy his bloody-minded project). The mansion was Gilded Age excess in the extreme, and I took the last guided tour of the day, in addition to an audio tour that covered the second floor of the house. The day-to-day life described for his winter retreat was interesting in its excess, but honestly, the mansion wasn't as tasteless as the average suburban McMansion today. It was excess, but it was excess done with style, which at least counts for something.

The first private railcar toilet. Bask in progress.

The backyard even held a pavilion with Flagler's personal railroad car, famous as the first private car that had toilet facilities. He apparently liked to invite his fellow tycoons to ride with him just to show off his pisser. It really makes you wonder about things. I'm not sure what, but things.

Here is where things get adventurous. As I was getting back to Boynton Beach, I realized I needed to go to CVS again, so I put it in my GPS to find the nearest one. It directed me to exit earlier than I usually take, but I didn't think much of it. I follow the helpful computer voice, but I miss the turn-off, and try and do a couple of right turns to get me back, but I get lost, and as I'm trying to work out how to get back, I see whirlies in my rear window. I put to the other lane to get out of their way, but they are on my ass, so I pull over.

Now four cops get out of the car with their hands on their guns, and I'm a little concerned. I roll down my window, and they tell me preemptively that I was going 40 in a 35 (not likely, but it would turn out to be a pretense anyway) and ask for my license and registration. I give them my license and explain that I'm not sure where my mom keeps her registration. The cops are at all points around my car, and they are asking me to roll down my other window, and I'm wondering what in the hell is going on. They ask what I'm doing, and I tell them I'm trying to get to CVS. They ask why I'm here again, and I tell them that I just asked the GPS to get me to the CVS, and that I missed the turn, and I was just trying to get back there. They asked me why here, and I told him again about the GPS, which I pointed out to him.

Then they asked where I came from. I told him I was coming from the museum and repeated what I was doing again. They asked who I was talking to, and I told them that I hadn't spoken to anyone since the museum. They asked if I had anything illegal in the car, and I said it was my mom's car. He asked if I thought my mom had anything illegal in the car, and I couldn't stop myself from saying, "Not unless she got a lot more interesting." They eventually decided I wasn't lying, and told me to get on 95 and go back home to go CVS because I was in the hood. I thanked them for some reason, and headed the rest of the way home.

On the way back to the condo, I stopped off at a CVS closer to them for some supplies, managed to not be blitzed by cops, and then grabbed a shower as my father ordered up some Chinese food. I ate dinner and then retreated into my bedroom to watch some TV, before dropping off to sleep not later than 11 PM.


The Accommodations: 
As mentioned, I was stayed at my parents' snowbird condo for the duration of the trip. The guest room has two small twin beds that have "MyPillows," which they were in love with for some reason, but I just found them small and uncomfortable. They keep the condo at no cooler than 75, which is too warm to sleep, but in pilling all the pillows in the room on one bed, removing all the covers, and turning the ceiling fan on max, I was able to get some sleep. And also because I was exhausted.

The wiring problem that prevents a normal light switch from being installed still persists, so the one light in the room still runs on the Clapper. I gave my father some smart outlets a couple of Christmases ago so he could use Alexa to run the light, but he promptly lost them.

That said, you can only complain so much with "free."

On Unexpectedness

Blue heron in the Paradise Garden at Morikami Gardens

Friday, February 22, 2019
Boynton Beach, FL


Outside the Game: 
As this was the only real day I had to sleep in, of course I had a restless night's sleep. I attempted to get up once, failed, and went back to sleep for a while, trying to shield my eyes from the merciless Florida sun seeming through the closed blinds.

I was up for good at 9:30 AM, where I scarfed down some leftover Chinese food, showered, and headed out into the bright, bright morning. My destination was the Morikami Museum and Japanese Gardens, a strangely out-of-place destination a short distance from my parents' condo that begged a visit.

The gardens are some of the finest Japanese gardens outside of Japan proper, constructed by one of the only remnants of a colony of Japanese farmers that attempted to make a go of it in Florida at the turn of last century. Orange Cheeto Grande took the premiere of Japan there during his last visit, but I tried not to hold it against the place. Perhaps the most bizarre thing about the place was that my mother had gone, and not only liked it, but raved about the restaurant. My mother. A person who does not eat any "oriental" food.

I got there and went in after a little bit of driving to find the parking lot. I paid my entry fee, got some fish food, an audio tour, and some walking-around water, and then headed out into the morning.

Dance for my scraps, minions!

And the gardens were everything that they were made out to be. It was a magnificent, tranquil Japanese garden over quite a large footprint. I walked around almost all of the way, taking in the side gardens and the dry Zen rock gardens, before hurrying back to the main pavilion at about a quarter of noon. I was trying to beat the rush for lunch, and managed to get one of the last tables in the air conditioned interior with no wait. I had a lovely, relaxed lunch, and by the time I was done, there was a line back to the entrance of the visitors center to get in, so that worked out.

I spent the remainder of the afternoon seeing the rest of the grounds, as well as revisiting where I had already been. The extensive nature walk was especially nice, as there was no one else on there with me, so I was able to really relax and get lost for a while. After getting my fill of the place, I hit up the gift shop rather extensively and then headed out.

I got home and showered and napped before the family started to arrive for the required pizza party. It was fine, and everyone ate and talked, and I helped my parents clean up before hitting the hay for the game the next day.


The Accommodations: 
The condo again. Nothing new or exciting on that front, except to reiterate that MyPillows are awful.

On Starting Spring

First Data Field, 2019

Saturday, February 23, 2019
Atlanta Braves vs. New York Metropolitans
First Data Field
Grapefruit League (Spring Training)
Port St. Lucie, FL
1:10 PM


Outside the Game:
I was up "early" relative to objective time, but not relative to my schedule for this trip. After a quick shower, my father and I were off to the races at about 9:30 AM for a mostly uneventful drive up to the stadium. Well, at least until we were about to turn on the road to the stadium, when my father had an unavoidable bathroom emergency, forcing us to ditch off to a gas station at the intersection for him to conduct his business. We eventually made it the rest of the stadium, where he dropped me off to go in and he retreated to get some breakfast.

I took my pictures and went to the practice fields, to find that they had just closed. Wandering around, I found Gary, Keith, and Ronnie hanging out outside of the SNY vans. After their meeting broke up, Gary and Ronnie signed some autographs, while Keith immediately bailed back to the parking lot. I followed at a distance and saw him dump something into an expensive blue sports car rental, which is about what I'd expect.

After some more walking around in the Opening-Day excitement, I decided to do some shopping before the gates opened. That was a mistake. The store was packed, and after grabbing a few items, I was in one of the two checkout lines to get out, and they were not moving anywhere. God bless them, the old folks manning the tables were doing their best, but everywhere in front of me were people claiming discounts that they did not have ID for, slowing down the process to a stop. I persevered, but right when I was about to pay, one of the previous people who had claimed a discount came back with proof, the gates were opening, and after waiting a half hour, I just dropped my items and went to go in.

I got on one of the long lines, but one of the attendants eventually got me to realize that they had opened a new, shorter line, and I sheepishly got on it and was inside in no time.

After the game, my father and I waded through the crowd back to his car, and I pointed out Keith's expensive rental car to him. It was a bit to get out of the parking lot, but the attendants were directing traffic, so it was mostly painless. I napped for most of the way back, but I woke up just as we hit some stopped traffic because of recent accident. I finally got my father to bail off the main road, showing him how the "avoid" feature on his GPS works (on a car he's had for a decade), and we eventually found an alternate way back to the condo.

Running a bit late, we quickly showered up and headed out to dinner, and my parents' lack of prep hit us again. We went to a different restaurant than we normally go to, but there was a street fair going on, so after dropping my mother and me off, it took my father nearly a half hour to park, so he was in a great mood for dinner. We managed to survive the experience, and I had some excellent veal saltimbocca. Usually, one element or another overpowers the dish, but it was very balanced and light, so that was a treat. Perhaps not worth all the rest of the aggravation (and my father forgetting where he had parked), but we eventually got home, and I immediately made for bed for the early day tomorrow morning.


The Stadium & Fans: 

Home plate to center field, First Data Field

First Data Field hadn't changed all that much since I'd been there last, though the crowds were certainly bigger for the first game of Spring Training. It may have been the first sell-out I saw for Spring Training with them, at least.

There were some minor cosmetic changes to the park (new concessions signs, new concessions, opening up the old picnic area in left field), but apparently the haggling between the Mets and Port St. Lucie had been resolved, so there will be major renovations in the next few years. Whether they ever get done or get done on time remain to be seen. The only thing special they seemed to have for opening day was a golf-cart-full of 69 Mets on the berm with the 7 Line Army. I was able to get some good pictures while I was walking around.

Cleon Jones in the hizzouse

There were also more Braves fans than I would have liked (i.e. >0).


At the Game with Oogie: 

Pork sliders

So I was originally at the game with my father, eventually joined by many of my relations in the first inning as they trundled in. As I had gotten decisions early on the amount of people coming to the game, I was able to score two rows of five seats in the shade behind home plate, which were a sight better than the restricted view seats we had to settle for during my last trip because I couldn't get a head count until the last minute. One of my cousin's kids was colicky, so my cousin had to bail early with him, but everyone else stayed to watch the game.

I grabbed a burger at the Ulti-Met Grill and then pork sliders at the new stand that replaced the Italian place. Despite knowing better, I tried to go to the team store in the stadium itself, but got stuck on another long and unmoving line, so bailed again. If they don't want my money that bad, I'm happy to oblige them.

There were an unsavory number of Braves fans in attendance, who were a lot more lippy than I like my Braves fans (which is not at all), so it was particularly nice to be able to shut them up and send them home disappointed with a nice (and pointless) win.


The Game:

First pitch, Braves vs. Metropolitans

This Opening Day contest between the Braves and the Metropolitans was one of the more Spring-Trainy games I've ever seen in Spring Training. Though the Metropolitans walked off with the pointless win, I'm not sure if it was a spiritual victory or not.

Both sides went in order to start the first, as is tradition. In the top of the second, however, the Braves turned a fielder's choice, two singles, and a sacrifice fly into two runs and jump to an early 2-0 lead. New York answered in the bottom of the inning, where a one-out, two-run homerun tied it up at two apiece. Atlanta got a runner as far as third in the top of the third, thanks to a walk and two hit batsmen, but nothing came across. However, the Metropolitans capitalized on a two-base error, ground-out, and single to take their first lead, 3-2.

The Braves stranded a single and New York went in order in the fourth and the fifth. Atlanta just had another plunked batsman to show for the top of the sixth, while the Metropolitans extended their lead to 4-2 with a towering leadoff homer to center.

The Braves had a reached-on-error and single to show for the top of the seventh, while New York went in order in their half. Atlanta closed the gap with to 4-3 with a one-out homer to left in the eighth, and the Metropolitans again went in order. For their last licks in the ninth, the Braves stranded a one-out single, leaving New York with the pointless 4-3 victory (and also denying the curiosity if they were going to use the international extra innings rule in the Grapefruit League this year).


The Scorecard: 

Atlanta Braves vs. New York Metropolitans, 02/23/19. Metropolitans "win," 4-3.

The new twist on the Metropolitan's $5 Grapefruit League program this year is that it comes in either of the team colors (blue or orange). I chose blue, for the record.

Sadly, the same awful scorecard is still inside it. The semi-gloss paper makes it hard to write in pencil, especially with colored pencil, and the same bizarre lack of pitching lines affects this card as it has previous incarnations. (I crammed the pitchers names at least into a curious blank space right under the lineups). The scorecard features exactly 17 player lines, just enough so that you don't have space for replacements for all the players, which is nearly a given in Spring Training games. Players lines end in somewhat cryptically named columns for at bats, RBIs, runs, and hits, and the columns run for 11 innings and then stats. In addition to the glossy paper, they saw fit to have colored background printing under the scorecard, which makes it very difficult to read the scoring on those squares, and it makes a big mess if you have to erase.

The game itself was standard Spring-Training fare for the most part, though some elements were on steroids. The Metropolitans used 9 pitchers, averaging one per inning, although the starting pitcher made it into the second before falling apart. The Metropolitans also managed to plunk three Braves, which I can only be so upset about. Player substitutions started early in this, the first game. All the Metropolitans swapped out in the fifth, which the Braves started in the fifth and ended by the seventh.

But there were no particularly odd plays of scoring note.


The Accommodations: 
At my parents condo, one last time. As soon as we got back from dinner, I pretty much went straight to bed for another early morning, at least of my own devising this time.

On Another Early Day

West Palm Too Damn Early

Sunday, February 23, 2019
Jersey City, NJ


Outside the Game: 
Too early.

4 AM is too early to get up in the morning. I have all the respect and pity for people who have to do this every day, but no. It is not for me.

A half-awake shower and printing a boarding pass preceded a quick drive to the airport in the dark, Florida "morning." Thankfully, unlike NYC, there was no one in the security line, and I was through and too my gate with 45 minutes before boarding.

Facing another flight too early, I decided to upgrade. I went up to the counter and managed to communicate my mumbled wishes to Sue, who not only got my an upgrade, but got me an upgrade with no one next to me. I gratefully gave her my credit card, which repeatedly got rejected. Visions of angry, half-coherent calls to AmEx dancing in my head, she apologized for the problem, and she said she would just waive the fee. Sue became my bestest friend at that moment, even before she said she was going to try and start boarding early so everyone could get settled for such an early flight. Sue, at gate C11, I want you to know I love you.

We did board early, and I was in seat A1. As the first person on the plane, I was able to get overhead space for all my bags quite easily, and I was quickly followed by the person sitting in the aisle of my row, who had similar concerns. We settled in as the rest of the plane boarded and both stayed awake until drinks and snakcs services, napping the rest of the flight. (I can only assume he did, as he was failing asleep as I was, and he seemed to wake up at the same time.)

The plane arrived so early in rainy Jersey City that we clearly surprised the ground crew. We got to the gate with no problem, but then they spent, no kidding around, about twenty minutes trying to get the jetway connected to the plane. Everyone in the crew said that this was an unprecedented wait. We eventually were disgorged out into Terminal A, and not caring any more, I went and got a cab ride home, again having to give the cab driver the way, but still being too lazy to try and wait for a Lyft. It's my own fault, really.

So, I was home around the time I normally get up on Sunday. I was even in time for Talking Baseball which was not on for some reason. (It would turn out that Ed Randall was trapped in a subway and would start the program about 45 minutes late.) I made it to noon before taking a nap, and there was an additional nap later in the afternoon that may or may not have been voluntary.

But as it was, I was extremely jetlagged after not having left the east coast. So it goes.


The Accommodations: 
Jersey City, sweet, Jersey City

Click here to see all the photos from this trip.

2019 Stand-Alone Trip