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
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.
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 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
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.
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
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:
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.
There were also more Braves fans than I would have liked (i.e. >0).
At the Game with Oogie:
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:
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
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
2019 Stand-Alone Trip
