Hagerstown

On Ditching Town

Thursday, May 22, 2025
Harrisburg, PA

Outside the Game:
As is often the case, I had a long, stupid day at work, where I interspersed my historic cooking for the week as I slogged through the day.

I was finally able to head out at around 7:30 PM, but as I was making my hotel reservation for the evening, Hotels.com booked it twice, and I had to take an extra 15 minutes to sort it out. So I wasn't on the road until 7:45 PM. I stopped to get gas and then just drove the couple of hours to Harrisburg, calling my mom as I went.

I arrived at the hotel around 10:15 PM and checked in, parked, unpacked, and then just went to bed.

The Accommodations:

Baymont by Wyndham Harrisburg

The over-named Baymont by Wyndham Harrisburg was a nice enough place to hold over for a night. The cavernous hallways that all looked the same were not a good navigation tool for my half-awake self at that hour of night, but we persevered.

I had to get a double queen room instead of a king, but that just meant more pillows for me. The little bathroom was just off the entrance to the room, and the two queen beds, nightstand, and easy chair were on one side of the room, and a desk, dresser, and TV were on the opposite wall, as I'd seen countless times before.

It did what it needed to.

On Right Sized

Meritus Park, 2025

Friday, May 23, 2025
Southern Maryland Blue Crabs vs. Hagerstown Flying Boxcars
Meritus Park
Atlantic League
Hagerstown, MD
6:30 PM

Outside the Game:
I was up early for breakfast at 6:30 AM. I ate my fill of the breakfast bar, before retreating upstairs to shower, pack, book my hotel for the night, and take a nap. I checked out and was on the road around 9:30 AM.

Well-defended visitor's center

I drove straight to Antietam without hitting any sort of traffic. I had been here before on a trip to see the old Hagerstown team, but I had only seen parts of the battlefield during that visit. I started at the visitor's center with the movie and then drove the entire battlefield this time, stopping at all of the visitor points. I even took one of the trails in the Cornfield for a little excursion. There was a guy with his kid who were always leaving the stops as I got there, the same way a couple and their dog were just behind me. The only part that got me was the army observation tower at the Sunken Road. So... many... stairs...

Burnside Bridge

After hitting the last tour stop at the National Cemetery, I took the short drive back up to Hagerstown and stopped at a Sonic next to the hotel for a well-earned lunch before going over to check in.

I went up to my rather nice room and unpacked and settled in before taking a dead-to-the-world nap before the game. I drove over to the stadium around 5 PM, parked in the new parking deck, and bought my ticket and took all my outside pictures (including the "Mural of Unusual Size" next door) before the gates opened.

After the game, I was in my car and back to the hotel before their fireworks started, which I watched from the hotel parking lot before heading up to my room to shower, pack up some, and go to bed.

The Stadium & Fans:

Home plate to center field, Meritus Park

Outside of the soulless corporate name, Meritus Park was actually very nice. It felt the right size for Hagerstown, for one. A lot of cities start an indie league team and go nuts building a big ballpark that will never be filled up, while this one felt exactly simpatico for Hagerstown. If the park sold out, 1/10th of the city population would be here, and the Boxcars, despite being a disaster on the field, actually draw very well.

There are two bars in the outfield that were bustling with people, and it seems like Meritus Park is similar to Coors Field on a smaller canvas. It is the best club or bar in town, and a lot of socializing gets done here, which is fine and dandy because the team currently sucks.

As with so many of these parks, there is one promenade above the seating area that goes around the park. The main seats run from first to third, with a picnic area at the end in both outfields. The second level of press and luxury boxes runs above the main seating area, and the kids play area is nestled in center among the outfield bars. The main scoreboard is in left-center and a neon sculpture of the namesake plane sits in right. There is a Hall of Fame of players who came through town in their affiliated days, and behind home plate is a big dining area, with specialty kiosks and a grab-n-go concession. 

The mascot Ace didn't show up as much as you'd expect, and the between-inning entertainment was some average events, with things like the donut race (each side of the park has to pass an inflatable donut the length of the park the fastest) and an alcohol race sponsored by a local liquor store that is a hold-over from the old park. They pulled a good crowd, but it seemed more about the socializing than the game.

But VIP of the park is Erin Shank. Ms Shank is an insurance agent who somehow managed to get a sponsorship of every... single... foul... ball... in the game. Every time a ball was fouled, the scoreboard would flash red with "Foul Ball, presented by Erin Shank, State Farm, erinshankinsurance.com, 76 East Main St. Waynesboro 717-762-7101." I did not have to look that up, because I had it memorized by the third inning. It was omnipresent. Whoever sold her this sponsorship should be knighted or beheaded.

At the Game with Oogie: 

"Burnt Ends" Sausage

I went in as the gates opened, and was greeted to the pre-game "Rock and Roll Night" concert from some local cover band. I did my regular circuit of walking around to get pictures, hitting the team store, and then grabbing food. They had a pretty good selection of food at the park, but I settled on a "burnt ends sausage," which was weird, but actually really good.

I purchases a seat right behind the home dugout. There was an older couple behind me who were really into the game, but sadly realistic about their skills. ("This is like watching the O's!") There were two guys to my left who were there for a night out, and a family on the other side of me for the same.

The Game: 

First pitch, Blue Crabs vs. Flying Boxcars

This game features a battle of the Maryland indie teams in the Atlantic League between the Southern Maryland Blue Crabs and the Hagerstown Flying Boxcars. Besides featuring some truly ludicrous plays, it was an absolute blowout and some boring, boring baseball. Have I oversold it enough?

Southern Maryland started off with a leadoff walk and nothing else in the first. The Boxcars had back-to-back singles at the top of the inning to make it first and third with no outs, all erased on the most ridiculous double-play I've seen live. More on that below, but needless to say, they didn't score. The Blue Claws started the second with a leadoff double, who was put out trying to make it to third on the next hit. But a two-out homer put them on the board, 2-0, even though they stranded two more singles after the bomb. Hagerstown went in order after a leadoff walk got caught up in a double-play. Southern Maryland only had a reached on error to show for the third, while the Boxcars managed to strand back-to-back walks to start the inning, as well as a one-out single to load up the bases.

The Blue Crabs started the fourth with a single and another single and fielder's choice brought him in, and a homer to right cleared the bases for three more runs total, extending the lead to 5-0. Hagerstown went in order in their half. Southern Maryland kept the scoring going in the fifth, with a walk, a single, and a solo homer putting up two more to make it 7-0. The Boxcars finally got on the board in the bottom of the inning, with a two-out solo shot, closing it to 7-1. In the sixth, the Blue Crabs couldn't cash in a single and walk, and Hagerstown stranded two walks of their own.

Southern Maryland batted all the way around exactly in the seventh, with two singles, two walks, a sacrifice fly, and a two-base wild pitch turning into four more runs, to make it 11-1. The Boxcars went in order. The Blue Crabs only had a reached on error in the top of the eighth, while Hagerstown went in order again. Southern Maryland stranded a leadoff walk in the ninth, while--say it with me--the Boxcars went in order, leaving the final tally 11-1.

The Scorecard: 

Southern Maryland Blue Crabs vs. Hagerstown Box Cars, 5/23/25. The Blue Carbs won, 11-1.

There was a home scorecard to use this time around, but I didn't notice until I had started a scorecard in the BBWAA book. Because of rain the previous day, the liner on top of the dugout looked dry, but was actually soaked with water. I managed to get both scorecards wet on it, because I am attentive to detail.

The scorecard was the center foldout of the half-tabloid program, with nine lines for players and five for pitchers, curiously without cumulative total columns at the bottom of each inning (10 total). Each batter and pitcher had standard cumulative total stats. There were lines to record Umpires, temperature, weather, winning and losing pitchers, saves, time of game, and attendance. Each scoring square did not have a pre-printed diamond, and were of sufficient size for the task.

The play of the century was in the bottom of the first: 5-2-5-1-6t DP. With no outs and first and third, the next batter hit one sharply to the third baseman, who came home and got the runner at third in a rundown (5-2-5-1), and on the throw back to the shortstop covering third, he got the lead and tailing runner (6t DP). I would not want to be the going to face the manager after that one.

Just so the umps can get in on the action, in the top of the sixth, the ump rang up a batter with only two strike, who then went on to walk. And the K-Man did not strike out.

The Accommodations:

Hampton Inn, Hagerstown

The Hampton Inn Hagerstown was very nice, even though it was undergoing renovations during my stay.

The larger-than-average bathroom was on the left as I entered the room, with tub and vanity. The bedroom had a king bed, nightstands, and dresses along one wall, a table with two chairs by the window, and a flat screen TV mounted on the far wall.

On No Complaints

Saturday, May 24, 2025
Clifton, NJ

Outside the Game:
I was up early for a decidedly above-average hotel breakfast. The reason for the packed house soon became apparent, as the breakfast buffet was completely filled with young girls in softball uniforms who ate and then left quickly, no doubt for a tournament in the area.

I, however, went back up to my room for a nap, eventually getting myself together enough to leave around 10 AM. I stopped at a local antique shop and made a number of purchases, included a valet. Not a person in this case. There was a half-price tent sale on the lawn of the store, and in there was a perfectly good valet (piece of furniture), which once I determined it would fit in my trunk, was swiftly purchased, especially at that price.

I drove home on a straight shot, not even bothering to stop for lunch. I listened to the entirety of an episode of Narrative Declaration, which got me through the whole ride reasonably entertained.

I unloaded, threw everything in the laundry, and napped, and went about the rest of my Saturday as one does.

The Accommodations:
Sweet home, Clifton

Click here to see all the photos from this trip.

Stand-Alone Trip

Waldorf

On a New World Champion of Frustration

Regency Furniture Stadium, 2014

Friday, July 25, 2014
Sugarland Skeeters vs. Southern Maryland Blue Crabs
Regency Furniture Stadium
Atlantic League, Freedom Division (Independent)
Waldorf, MD
7:05 PM


Outside the Game:
I woke up rather refreshed and went down to get some breakfast before retreating to the hotel room to laze around in my gigantic bed for a while. Determined to get some work done, I downloaded some new games and played them until it was time to leave.

As Waldorf didn't seem to have much on tap, and since Baltimore was on the way and the Orioles weren't home, I decided to go to the sports museum next to Oriole Park that I didn't get a chance to visit before. It was a quiet drive that dumped me right at the stadium. Since the O's were away, I was able to snag street parking right next to the stadium, although it took me three tries before I could get one of the "easy" street parking machines to deliver an actual ticket to put on my dashboard. I figured I should be heading south no later than 3 PM, so I bought enough time to get me to then, and I headed for the museum.

As I was parking, a group of three young Orioles employees (judging by their outfits and the fact that they were smoking right by a staff entrance to the park) looked at my car, and one of them asked me what year that was. And I told them it was a 91 Plymouth Sundance. And he looked incredulous, and said, "She must run good for you." I said she did and that I was going to give her a twenty-fifth birthday party soon, and we all had a laugh. That was literally the only time anyone has ever mentioned my car on one of these trips.

Upon purchasing a ticket for the sports museum, I realized that I hadn't been to the Babe Ruth Birthplace Museum, either, and so I got a combo ticket and headed into the Sports Museum. All of the baseball material was very well done, going from the 19th century Orioles, through their various minor-league incarnations, and eventually the O's of today.

Probably one of the only people to see both of these.

As expected, there was a rather extensive section on George Herman Ruth (including the sibling of the plaque at Koshien Stadium--I think I may be one of the few people in the world who has seen them both), but they also went through the Negro Leagues in Baltimore, as well as minor-league, semi-pro, and youth baseball. There was an interactive section for the "kids," and there was a bunch of other stuff on football that I kind of blew through. I cleaned out my wallet at the gift shop, and one of the staff directed me to follow the baseballs painted on the pavement to go the short distance to the Babe Ruth birthplace.

Surprisingly enough, following said baseballs painted on the pavement dutifully led me to the museum on a side street several blocks from the park. The museum is housed in the Ruth family house, which means that Ruth didn't live there too long before he was shipped out to the school for wayward boys. There are a couple of restored rooms in the building to recreate how the house appeared when Ruth was there, while the rest of building is dedicated to exhibits on his playing career, his entertainment career, and his family life. Of particular interest was a scorecard someone had of Ruth's first professional appearance on the then minor-league Orioles.

Signed

They also had a museum store, and I also spent a bunch of money there. One of old men working enthusiastically told me that I should have lunch at Pickles, which is one of the sports bars across the street from Orioles Park. Who am I to disagree with someone who works at Babe Ruth's house?

Center field to home plate, Oriole Park at Camden Yards

So I stopped at Pickles and had some overstuffed club sandwich or some such, and then went to Orioles Park to take some pictures. They have the pedestrian walkway in the back of center field open on non-game days, so I was able to take a lot of pictures of things that I didn't get the last time I was there, before I got a tad, um, obsessive about such things.

Educated, fed, and photographically complete, I decided to head down to Waldorf at a little before 3 PM. At a little under 50 miles away, I should have arrived there in under an hour.

There's traffic on Fridays during the summer. I get that, I do. Some people even take half-days, but leaving before 3 PM, I figured I was in good shape. And that was a gravely mistaken assumption, as it turns out.

I'm not good in traffic. That is a fault of mine that I freely acknowledge. Traffic is the distillation of everything that I hate about the world in its most concentrated and pure form: illogic, stupidity, and inefficiency due to the previous two items. Boston has the worst drivers in the nation. Of that, there is no doubt. Miami and the entire state of Pennsylvania come in a close second. I don't even acknowledge what people in LA do as "driving," or they, too, would make this list as well.

But there is a new king for frustration while driving, and that is the Baltimore/DC corridor. It is not just the traffic, which is horrific. It is also the fact that everything about their road systems seem to be designed to increase traffic instead of alleviate it.

For example, there are the traffic lights. Whoever designed this traffic light pattern should be dragged from his bed, thrown to the street, see everything and everyone he loves or cares about killed or destroyed in front of him, and then be stabbed in the stomach with a typhoid-laced rusty spoon--careful to miss any important bits--and left to die, slowly.

The way these lights work for a four-way intersection is thus: one lane of left-turn lanes only are given the green. Then the opposite side left-turn lane is given the green. And then one side of straight or right-turn traffic is given the green, and the other. This then repeats for the perpendicular traffic. What this means is: if you just miss a green light, you are going to be spending the next three to five minutes of your life waiting to move again. And not only is that infuriating in itself, it also blocks up the traffic behind everyone for miles more than if the lights kept any sort of reasonable pattern.

At any rate, my TomTom decided to take me down some two lane highway called the Baltimore-DC Parkway (or something) instead of 95. This was fine until the lights began and stopped traffic dead. I turned off and made it to 95 South, which got me relatively quicker to the inner loop beltway, which is where all hope goes to die. It took an hour to get around the Beltway with stop-and-go, bumper-to-bumper traffic that had me at my absolute wit's end. The TomTom helpfully told me to miss the exit it was trying to take me to. (I can only imagine that there had been a traffic pattern change recently, as the "exit ramp" a quarter mile after the real exit ramp was didn't exist, so I had to go one more exit, turn around, and then fight the traffic in the other direction until I reached my actual destination.)

At my exit, I was then dumped into another "highway" with traffic lights every quarter mile, so that the ten miles that I needed to traverse took another half hour.

Sweaty, enraged, and beyond my depth, I found that the TomTom address for the hotel was nowhere near an actual hotel. The address on the Website hadn't matched up with my GPS at all, and I called earlier in the day to get a new address. That address put me in the middle of nowhere. I pulled into the nearest driveway and called the hotel in a rather foul mood. After talking to three people, I eventually talked to someone who could give me actual directions to the hotel, and five minutes later I was there, a good hour and a half later than I intended to get there and ready to impose bloody murder on any situation to displease me.

When I inquired at the front desk how people get anywhere down here, they replied that they were impressed that I made such good time getting there from Baltimore. Realizing we weren't even speaking the same language, I went up to my room and unpacked.

With a shower and a nap out of the timetable, I cleaned up a little and went back to my car. It was about 5:20 PM, and the stadium was about ten minutes away according to the TomTom, and I was off.

Except that it was still Maryland hell. There seemed to be traffic lights--without exaggeration--every five feet, and I missed them all. I didn't pull into the parking lot until 5:45 PM. I parked my car, made a brief effort to remember where I parked, and dashed up to the ticket booth to get a ticket, and I then did a turbo run around the park to take my pictures before getting on the line of people entering the stadium. This was as close to gate as I'd ever been at a park, and it (and the heat) made me reek with failure.

At least the fireworks were pretty.

After the game, I set out as soon as the game was over and was to my car as the fireworks started. I watched for a minute, and then started the drive back to my hotel. I was able to make the 10-minute trip in only twenty minutes this time (while only getting lost once), a great achievement in this hellscape of driving purgatory.

I went up to my room and peeled off my disgusting clothing, took a shower, finished packing up, and flopped into bed.


The Stadium & Fans:

Home plate to center field, Regency Furniture Stadium

Given my late and upset arrival, I pretty much did a run around the outside of the park before the gates opened, all the while cursing every last thing about Maryland.

The park itself, perhaps especially because of its corporate branding naming, appeared a little... it is hard to say. I'm going to go with "shackish." Perhaps more "pre-fab gazebo." It really is hard to say. Something was off about it.

Inside, it struck me similar to the Rockland Boulders' place, in that it was a very nice stadium, but perhaps it was too much park for an indie team. There was one section of seating extending down the main promenade, running from short left field to short right field behind home plate. The press box and luxury boxes extended above in a second level from about first to third base. Most of the concessions extended that same expanse. There's a patio and kids' area in right field and a picnic area and a "Legends Club" in a another pre-fab shack-looking building in left field. A boardwalk extends around the entire outfield. There is a lawn berm extending most of the way around the outfield, with bench seats right by the wall. Bumper boats and a sand play area with playground toys is in right center.

A manual scoreboard is in the wall in left and a digital video board in right field. Alien-looking furry mascot Pinch runs the standard indie between-inning contest along with human helpers lead by an MC in a flop hat and tie-dye. The crowd was quite respectable given the time and the location, but they mostly seemed in it for the entertainment as opposed to the baseball.


At the Game with Oogie:

Sad scoring

I purchased my ticket much later than usual, but I decided on the same place, box seats behind the home dugout (third base side, this time).

It was well-attended for an indie-ball game during vacation season, and there were families all around me. To my immediate right was three generations of the same family: a grandfather, father, and the granddaughters. The grandpa was patiently explaining everything about baseball to his inquisitive granddaughter, and we got to talking during the game, especially about the unbelievably bad officiating that was going on--but more on that later. Behind me was another family and a visiting guest. It was their guest's first professional baseball game, and they got him and his friend on the field to do the sumo suits wrestle between innings.

Chicken sandwich and soda

Since I was so hot and disgusting, I wasn't very hungry. I got a meal deal for a chicken sandwich and fries to get a jumbo soda, and I think I downed about two Gatorades before and during the game to keep my fluids up.


The Game:

First pitch, Skeeters vs. Blue Crabs

This game was, if nothing else, made to engender a respect for major-league umpires, as the independent variety do not hold up to scrutiny. It is often a cop-out to claim a game was stolen by the umps, but in this case, the boys in blue nearly wrapped up the game in a bow for the visiting Skeeters.

The Skeeters started the game with a single, but then went in order, and Maryland went in order in the bottom of the inning. Sugar Land got their leadoff hitter on base again in the second with a leadoff walk, but he was similarly stranded with three subsequent outs. The Blue Crabs went in order again, as did the Skeeters in the top of the third.

Maryland got something going with four straight singles to start the bottom of the third, bringing in two runs. A sacrifice fly to left brought in the runner from third, but the trailing runner got picked off flatfooted to end the inning 3-0, Blue Crabs. Both sides went in order in the fourth.

Things went odd in the top of the fifth. Sugarland started the half with a single and a stolen base. A fly out to center moved the runner to third, and a walk followed. Then the umpires called a balk on the pitcher, which was a balk only to the umpire and no one else. It wasn't even close to a balk. This scored a run and moved the trailing runner to second. Two more outs stranded the runner to make it 3-1, Blue Crabs. The bottom of the inning began with some manner of hit for the Blue Crabs. The hit was originally called foul, then reversed to a double, then reversed again to a single. A sacrifice moved the runner to second, but two strikeouts ended the threat.

The sixth started with a walk, a strikeout, and a change of pitcher. Another walk was followed with another out that moved the runners to second and third. A single brought them in. The next batter walked while the guy on first was stealing, but the umpire did not make the call in any sort of timely manner, so the catcher threw to second and into center, getting the runner to third. Luckily, a ground-out stopped the damage with the game tied at 3-3. The Blue Crabs went in order in the sixth.

The top of the seventh broke the tie with a one-out homer, making it 4-3, Skeeters. In the bottom of the inning, Maryland only managed a walk. Another new pitcher for the Blue Crabs got two outs in the eighth, but then gave up a double and a single to bring in another run before a fly to right ended the half at 5-3, Sugarland. The Blue Crabs went in order again.

Another Southern Maryland pitcher came in and got two outs, but to shake it up, he gave up a single and then a double to bring in run before a fly to right ended the top of the ninth at 6-3, Skeeters. The perhaps tired Blue crabs went in order on last licks to end the game at that score for the opposition.


The Scorecard:

Skeeters vs. Blue Crabs, 07/25/14. Skeeters win, 6-3.

The program was a pamphlet-sized give-away at the door. The scorecard was a one-pager on cheap magazine paper that lead to a lot of smudging and poor pencil adhesion. Also worth mentioning was that this was a scorecard for ants. It was crammed into one page, with the bottom quarter of the page taken up by an ad. There was absolutely no space for substitutions, and barely enough room to score with line notation.

That said, the story of the game was the poor umpiring, and there are extensive notes on the ball four screw-up, as well as the foul that was a double that was a single. Otherwise, the only scoring of note was the 1-3-4t caught stealing in the bottom of the third, and the fact that I think the Blue Crabs were getting paid by the pitcher, as they managed to cram in seven in a nine-inning game.


The Accommodations:

Hilton Garden

I was staying at the Hilton Garden, and eventually even found it.

The hotel was nice, not that I was in a mood to appreciate it when I got in. My room was also nice, but not as nice as the night before. A big old bathroom was just off the entrance (no tub, but the shower did its work well), and the main room was separated into my big old bed on one wall, with an easy chair next to the window, and a desk, TV, dresser, and a little kitchenette with refrigerator, coffee machine, and microwave on the other side.

The bed slept well, and after the unending frustration that this day had foisted upon me, it was quite welcome.

Click here to see all the photos from this trip.

2014 Maryland

Lancaster

On the Definition of Insanity

Clipper Magazine Stadium, 2013

Saturday, September 7, 2013

Southern Maryland Blue Crabs vs. Lancaster Barnstormers
Clipper Magazine Stadium
Atlantic League
Lancaster, PA
7:05 PM


Outside of the Game:
The definition of insanity, is, of course, repeating the same course of action and expecting a different result.

And this week I was going back to Lancaster again, because I had to see the Barnstormers before their season ended. And as much as I'd like to believe I wasn't going to leave early, I did.

And on 78 again. I was beginning to hate I-78, except for the fact that it is so much better a road to travel than the PA Turnpike in nearly every way. It has more lanes, is better maintained, and yet has less construction going on. It was a fast ride out to 222, where the turn south began. I stopped off for lunch at an Arby's where 222 basically turned into a local road, and made it down to Lancaster with little difficulty.

I drove out to find where the stadium was first, and it turned out to be literally right next to campus, in what was in my time a disused railyard. The area was now undergoing renovation, the heart of which was the ballpark. With a couple of hours before the gates opened, I drove back to the F&M campus and parked on the street.

In the light of day, the place was less obviously filled with ghosts as the week before. Hot and bright and smelling of the harvest, the scene was familiar, but not menacing. I managed to walk around without any incidents. I even ventured off campus to some of the places I had known in my earlier years. I visited the Arts House, which was a rickety pile of lumber about to blow over twenty years ago, but managed to still exist in its exact same disreputable state today, adorned with a sign labeling it the "Farts Haus" in the wit only available to collegiate art students.

Back across campus, it was easier to define all the new buildings that had appeared in the intervening decades. Even the older places had received face lifts. In the light, the student center didn't even loom that large. The radio station was less imposing in the light, with the failing neon sign unlit and the empty studio less mysterious. I even ventured a walk through the student center itself, which had now been renovated with an art studio and other things that were new to my eyes. I didn't quite make it up those stairs; there was still some bad mojo there. But I saw a sign for the "No Show, No Show" for the radio station, which was the semesterly meeting held for people to sign up for shows. There was something fairly reassuring that that meeting was still going on, though the email and social media avenues to RSVP were something new-fangled and unwelcome.

As it was on the way back to the stadium, I decided to drive out to the train station and see if the comic book shop that I frequented at school was still a going concern. To my great delight, it was still there. Beside the physical new titles on the shelves, it had changed precious little since my last visit. This was a more reassuring thing than a threat, and it put a more positive spin on the whole endeavor. I found it odd I could remember nothing specific about the proprietors, considering the amount of time I spent there. It was very weird hole in my memory to have.

I eventually set off to find parking for the game and go about my business. The fireworks after the contest sealed off my parking lot until it was over. I made an inadvisable attempt to try and find a back way into the parking lot, but was completely lost by my overconfidence in my familiarity with a landscape that had completely changed over time. I eventually returned the way I came and struggled to find my car in the dark after the lot was opened at the conclusion of the display.

Sick, finally, of I-78, I took the PA Turnpike back, my radio tuned to my college station. After an hour, the station began to fade, and in the night, in the same car I was in the last this happened, I lost my grip on time for a while. I was trodding on the same path I had at times in the past, and it became muddy again. Now, then... I was the same person in the same car in the same place. Old man in a young body, or old man in an old body -- it was indistinct.

But the station faded to static. As the 'Mats say, "Passin' through and it's late, the station started to fade." But I turned to WFAN, and I was back in the present, as my back ached from sitting and my soul hurt from another Met failure, and I was just waiting to go to sleep. I made it home and eventually got my wish.


The Stadium & Fans:

Home plate to center field, Clipper Magazine Stadium

The unfortunately named Clipper Magazine Stadium (yes, that Clipper Magazine) did not inspire much confidence with its name. As mentioned, the park is located in the area of an old rail yard that is a fixer-upper for Lancaster, and the surrounding neighborhood hasn't quite caught up, but it is clearly on the road to gentrification, for better or worse.

The parking situation is a bit chaotic, with several smaller (free) lots scattered around the park. Figuring out where to go was a bit of a challenge, but you can't beat the price. The park has several entrances around its perimeter, all of which are walkable, but only the main one by home plate (and opposite most of the parking) is available when the gates open an hour before gametime. There was a large party in the picnic zone that was allowed entry early, and skybox and season ticket holders got in fifteen minutes before the hoi polloi. The plaza by the main entrance has several plaques and displays about the history of Lancaster baseball, and, in a nice nod to the baseball community I hadn't seen in any other park, it has a sign telling people to patronize all the other nearby ballparks in the area, not just in the Eastern League. That was sporting of them.

The main entrance opens out onto the main promenade, which extends, eventually, all around the stadium. One section of seating extends down from the promenade from about left field to right field, and a second deck of luxury boxes runs from about first to third. A large picnic berm runs from left to center field, and in center to right field, there is the huge Weis BBQ Pavilion, which hosts groups and special events, such as the ones this night. In dead center is "Home Run Harbor," home to a small bumper-boat pool, which wins points for originality, if not relevance. A main scoreboard out in left-center is supported by a smaller scoreboard in the right-field wall that adds more context data.

An extended kids area is behind left field, including a well-lit carousel. You can eventually walk all the way around the park on the promenade (which narrows to a small asphalt path in the outfield), but you have to go behind the extensive BBQ area in right to get there. Concessions are arrayed at regular intervals along the infield promenade, and the team store is located right by the entrance behind home. The walkways are festooned with album covers parodied to the Barnstormers, such as "Lancaster Calling" Or "Check Your Red."

No, you!

The on-field games were run by monster Cylo (silo -- get it?) and the fun team run by, god help us, I.M. Fun. Many of the games were clear lifts of Price Is Right and standard minor league races and skill games. That night, they were honoring local heroes. The hero of honor was a firefighter who had been severely injured in a blaze earlier this year while trying to rescue people in the structure. The Barnstormers team had dedicated a seat to him at the start of the season, and this evening, he was finally well enough to take his seat during the seventh inning stretch, where he was greeted by his family and a phalanx of his fellow firemen. It was all very nice.

When I think "The Clash," I think "Central PA."

In this meaningless late-season indie game, the place was still easily 3/4th filled with fans, with a surprisingly substantial contingent for the visiting Southern Maryland team as well. One local tradition of the fans was to have someone call out a player's first name, and the rest of the fans answer by calling out his last name. I am unsure of how the person who does the first name is determined, but it seemed to work for them.


At the Game with Oogie:

Barnscoring

I got seats, as per normal, behind the home dugout. I snuck in as a single in the second row into the season ticket section. There were families all around. Behind me was a three-generation job, with grandparents, a mother, and her daughter. The daughter kept taking pictures for Facebook, and her grandpa wasn't down with being on the "Internet thing." The granddaughter eventually got a last-out ball from one of the players, and during a beachball toss game, the ball with the winning number landed by grandpa, who had to be told by his daughter and granddaughter that he won. He got his prizes and teased his granddaughter by telling her that he wanted the t-shirt before eventually giving in to her squealing glee.

Yeah. You pull that pork for me.

I got a Weis pulled pork sandwich to eat, which was part of a meal deal they had that included a drink and chips for $8.50, which was a pretty good. I'd like to say that I didn't go crazy in the team store, but that would be a lie. I got a t-shirt and a mascot doll and some postcards, and I eventually also bought a souvenir cup as well. I'm not proud.


The Game:

First pitch, Blue Crabs vs. Barnstormers

This was an Eastern League face-off between the Barnstormers, who just missed the playoffs, and the Blue Crabs, who were clinging to the last place in the division. It didn't seem to be much of a contest, but it did not follow projections.

The Blue Crabs started the game with two quick outs, but the third batter drew a walk. The cleanup hitter was having his first Eastern League at-bat, likely meaning he was just cut from some official MiLB franchise at the end of the season. He took the ball deep to right for a two-run home run in quite an impressive start in the league. A flyout ended the half with the Blue Crabs up, 2-0. The Barnstormers got a two-out double and nothing else in their half.

The second inning featured a one-out single for the Blue Crabs, followed by a double that made it second and third with no outs. A sacrifice fly to center brought in the run, but it was part of a bizarre double play, as the runner from second was basically walking to third on a cut-off throw to home and tagged out after a half-hearted run-down. The Barnstormers only managed a two-out single this time, leaving the score 3-0, Blue Crabs, at the end of two.

The Blue crabs cooled down and went in order in the third, and the Barnstormers only got a one-out single in their half. The Blue Crabs followed with only a two-out single in the top of the fourth frame, but the Barnstormers finally got started in their half. A two-out single was brought home by a following double, and then a single came after that to plate the runner from second. A fly-out ended the rally at a score of 3-2, Blue crabs.

The Blue Crabs got a one-out solo homer in the top of the fifth to open back up the lead, and the Barnstormers went in order. Both sides went in order in the sixth and seventh, but that changed in the top of the eighth. The Blue Crabs got a one-out walk that was followed by a triple to bring in the run. The next batter was hit by a pitch, and the one after him sacrificed the run in from third with a pop to right. A groundout ended the damage at 6-2, Blue Crabs. The bottom of the eighth began with the Barnstormers manager arguing with the umpires for no apparent reason and being tossed. The Barnstorms answered their manager's call with a solitary two-out single.

The scoring kept going in the ninth, as a lead-off single and a two-out double got another run across for the Blue Crabs. The Barnstormers went in controversial order in the ninth to end it 7-2, Blue Crabs. (That controversy came from the second out, a ground-out at home plate ending in a 2-3 put-out. The batter claimed the ball hit him in the batter's box [making it a dead ball], and after a lengthy and unprecedented regroup with the entire umpire crew, the original call was upheld. The manager, gone since the bottom of the eighth, likely had an opinion on the matter that was left unvoiced.)


The Scorecard:

Blue Crabs vs. Barnstormers, 09/07/13. Blue Crabs win, 7-2.

The scorecard was a free handout at the park. It was pamphlet-sized on glossy magazine paper. As it was on glossy paper, it made writing with pencil more difficult, and the printing was apparently done on the cheap as there were some smudging issues that got worse as the game went on.

The scorecard itself was all on one page with no ads. It was convenient, if a little cramped, but it had all the necessary categories, and special lines for winning/losing pitcher, saves, umpires, weather, temperature, time of game, and attendance (although it wasn't actually announced at the game; it's a no-no to have a category on your scorecard if you aren't going to announce it.)

There was an odd one in the game. This was the "SF DP 8-6-4" in the top of the second, as a lazy runner got caught in a rundown after a sacrifice fly. A truly outstanding sliding catch into foul territory in the bottom of the fourth got a gem (!). The Blue Claw's Gac got a homer in his first Eastern League at-bat, which was worth a note, and the bizarre and unexplained ejection of the Barnstormers manager in the bottom of the eighth also got a write-up.

Everything else was largely run-of-the-mill.


The Accommodations:
Hoboken, again

Click here to see all the photos from this trip.

2013 Stand-Alone Trip