I was sitting in my seat at Hohokam Park, watching the guy two rows below me slather sunscreen lotion on his son. He went over his face several times, hitting his ears about five times. Those ears were already red. It was that kind of day.
I do like this little park although it's missing some amenities (like cup holders on the seats). It was supposed to be only about 75 degrees, but it was a direct kind of sun. And it wore me down. But this was a terrific seat: right off third base. I was in the Cubs home park, and there was a sea of blue all around me. Cubbie fans are serious fans. And by luck only, I was going to watch two pitchers whom I knew very well. They were with the A's club last year.
Chad Gaudin pitched for the Cubs, while Greg Smith pitched for the Colorado Rockies. Both were fairly ineffective in the first inning, giving up two runs each, but each settled down in the second. Gaudin was lifted by Lou Pinella after the second, while Smith stayed in there for four innings.
One of the concession people, in one of their two gift shops, noting my spring training t-shirt, told me that the Cubs sold out of their spring training shirts completely. And he said that, after the first week, the Cubs have been selling out. I heard later that the Cubs set a new spring training attendance record.
I had on-and-off conversations with the couple next to me and their upstart teenage daughter. Norm was dressed in his White Sox jersey. "I'm the only one wearing black here," he mentioned casually, as if he expected a fight to break out any moment. His wife, who was keeping score, was wearing her Cubs hat. I noted their daughter was dressed in a bright blue Cubs shirt. Two against one. But they catered to him.
It was one of those marriages you hate to watch. He yelled at her for the slightest thing, like where was the sunscreen. Why did you put that there. Why didn't you help us carry back our food. And she would constantly try to placate.
You know, I don't know anything about their marriage. It could be that's how they communicate, that she doesn't mind his constant wearing down of her esteem. But it seemed to me he's an anger management project about to explode.
They had come from Chicago, and stayed at a Motel 6 near the airport. They don't come every year, but when they do, they like to see different teams play He told me all about the Angels stadium, and how cold they were yesterday in the shade. In my memory of Angels Stadium, I would have killed for shade.
And speaking of that, shade greeted us in the fourth! I could stay there another couple of innings without sweating my life away. But I finally left in the 6th, and walked out to my car. I set the GPS for the new Camelback location, or at least the intersection where it should be, and dove into rush hour traffic.
I exited at Camelback Road, and drove to 107th, hoping to see the stadium. It wasn't there, although I could see structures in the distance. The GPS was finished, so I turned it off. After going down 107th and not finding any way in, I turned around and drove down Camelback this time, and finally found a little wooden sign saying, Camelback Ranch.
I found out later that they ushered us to parking very far away from the entrance. And this was a good two hours before the park opened. Usually when you get there early you get the good parking. Also, the park didn't open until one-and-a-half hours before the game. So I wandered around part of the complex -- which turned out to be huge -- watched some players I didn't recognize do some BP. Groups would walk by, and the passageways were roped off so that we couldn't interfere with them.
This Camelback Ranch complex is shared in spring training by both the Dodgers and the White Sox, and is the most modern, well-equipped one around. A manmade river separates the two so that, supposedly, the players don't mix. On my convoluted way into the park, I passed by numerous practice fields and batting cages.
Finally they let us in. Apparently backpacks aren't allowed in, except the huge backpack of the guy in front of me. When he told them he had been coming in the last four days with that backpack, the guy let him proceed.
I wandered around the upper walkway. They had some different food. I immediately got a root beer float, which was very good. Besides the usual fare, they have pizza, hamburgers, and BBQ. The guy sitting next to me later brought down a BBQ brisket sandwich, and I had to smell that sweet smell for two innings.
The sun began to fall and the game finally started. I, again, had a marvelous seat just off third base, but I soon discovered that seating was like at AT&T Park: if there's any crowd off to your right, you won't be able to see the hitter.
The stadium seats 10,000, with another 3,000 or so on the grass (berm). When the game started, only half the seats were full, but by the second inning, another half of those had been filled. Still, it was not sold out. But then, the seats are so much more expensive here.
It was the Dodgers vs. the Seattle Mariners. As one guy told me while we shared a table while eating on the concourse, he wanted to see the Mariners "because they're in my division," and pointed to his Angels hat. He also told me an interesting story about why Mike Scioscia, of whom I'm a fan, went over to the Angels because of how the Dodgers treated him once his catching career was over.
The fans gathered en masse near my seat, since that's the one area low enough to invite autographs. Even though the Dodgers sport a very good infield, it was all about Manny. Look, there's Manny (who came in later than anyone) running as he warmed up. Look, Manny is running again. Manny only DH's and did not play the field this game, and all those lightbulbs went off when he came up to bat. It reminded me so much of Barry Bonds.
His second up-to-bat was a homerun. Look, see Manny run the homerun trot. I swear it was the longest homerun that never counted. It must've been at least 420 feet over the left field wall and past the people sitting on the berm out there.
The Dodgers' pitching was very good. Kershaw kept the Mariners to one hit for several innings. And the Dodgers' defense was also very good.
I left early because I was tired. Climbing up and down those stairs to get to my seat made me even more tired. When I exited out the front, I realized that this is not how I'd come in, so I strolled to my left to try to find the car. Nothing looked familiar. I went to a parking guy in the neon green vest and asked, where did they put the cars when they first came in? "Oh, gosh," he said, not in a helping way, and pointed me in two different directions. Thirty minutes later, after walking almost entirely around the stadium, I found what looked familiar, and found the blue Jeep. I set my GPS for the hotel, and set off. I was thankful that I didn't have to think about where to turn, etc. It led me home.
I was really tired when I got home, but enjoyed the experience of the entire day. Night games are a great way to avoid the heat, but it actually got cold there. A cold wind came in and caused everybody to complain. I had brought my pullover, so I was fine. I wouldn't mind going back to Camelback; the food was definitely better. But I'm not fond of some of their procedures.
Tomorrow: one last game, this time at the Brewers' home stadium, Maryvale.
As I type this, they're mulching the large pieces that come off. At least I think that's what that booming dental-type noise is.
I was busy taking photographs to notice that I might be stubbed out like a cigarette.
That last photo shows the last big tree trunk being lifted out. There's still a trunk left, but it's close to the ground. I wondered briefly what would happen if it slammed into the house....and decided not to mentally go there.
