Diversion

Part Two coming soon.  Until then, this made me laugh:

Leaving Baltimore ... Part 1 [Retropost, 10/1/08]

I actually feel quite badly about not having posted here in quite a while.  I got a lot of great feedback from family and friends who, apparently, were keeping an eye on this in order to keep up with things.  I suppose I'll finish off the posts that complete the cross-country trip, and perhaps I'll keep the blog going... it does make it easier than telling a hundred people the same things.  Albeit slightly less personal.

I digress!

CHAPTER ONE: Baltimore City

The week in between the postponement of the trip and the actual final leg into NYC was great.  I had a blast hanging at Bryan and Barb's... we watched a lot of sports, a little bit of that show about the family with sextuplets, I applied for jobs and got in touch with New York contacts.  Bryan gave me fantasy football tips, Barb chatted with me about the election (and I am probably the worst political chat partner.  Go Barb).

Internet was very sketchy the entire week, which led to a few trips to the library a few blocks down Light Street.  I'd like to take this opportunity to give some public props to the Enoch Pratt Free Library on Light Street in Baltimore.  Not only were they incredibly helpful and accommodating to someone with no library card, but they pointed me to mailboxes, helped me make printouts, and there was a liquor store conveniently located across the street.  This mostly helped for when I would head back to the apartment after a "hard day's" work.  Oh so convenient.

Speaking of convenient, the bar located around the corner (And I mean it... out the door, six steps around the corner, there it was) had the best TV sports package ever.  For someone who was simultaneously on the East Coast, yet desperately trying to follow the Twins' stretch run for the playoffs, finding out that the bar actually had a broadcast of Twins/Royals games made it my new favorite place to be.

Baltimore was also where I got to see Melissa again for the first time.. since I wasn't making it up to NY that week, she decided to catch a cheap bus down for the weekend.  It felt like we hadn't seen each other in months...  It was only one month, but what a month it was.  Getting to see her in person again made the entire trip/work worth it.  We didn't do a whole lot that weekend... played with iTunes, made some plans, watched some football (Melissa+vodka+Huskers=CRAZY).  It was tons of fun.  I missed ya baby.

CHAPTER TWO: Twins-Ending

And so it came time for me to mosey on down the road.  I was to leave Baltimore the morning of Wednesday, October 1.  The Twins ended the regular season in a tie with the Chicago White Sox, so they played a one game playoff on Tuesday night.  Thought I was NOT pleased for the necessity of the high-pressure one-game playoff, but I was at least sated by the fact that I could watch it in the comfort of a home the night before I headed out to NYC.  

Anyone who follows baseball knows that my evening ended (Or so I thought) in a bout of quiet sadness.  People who follow one team above all others will sympathize.  The Minnesota Twins have been my team since I was conscious, so I will always be disappointed when they get so close to goodness and fall short.  My emotional state was slightly tempered by the fact that these guys were massive overachievers in 2008.  They started the year with four members of their starting rotation aged 26 or younger.* The Twins' rookie General Manager, Bill Smith, had parted ways with All-Stars and fan favorites Johan Santana and Torii Hunter via trade and free-agency, respectively.  In a very un-Twins-like move, Smith actually made a move to gain a couple of promising young hitters (Delmon Young and Brendan Harris) by trading away some promising young pitching (Matt Garza) and their starting shortstop (Jason Bartlett)**.  Their young acquisitions, the aforementioned Young and a spunky speedy center fielder from the Santana trade, Carlos Gomez; are both 22 years old.

* After the disastrous Livan Hernandez experiment ended, all five rotation members were 26 or under.  I think that three are considered official rookies.  That bodes well.

** Writing this the day after the Rays clinched the World Series, wow.  The Rays certainly made the most out of that trade.  On behalf of Twins Territory, "you're welcome Tampa."

This team was supposed to finish fourth in the American League Central, third if they were lucky.  Instead, the vaunted Tigers offense couldn't match their terrible bullpen; the 2007 Central champs, the Indians, were ravaged by injuries and never recovered.  The Royals were.. the Royals.  Suddenly, the Twins are holding fast on top of the division with a bunch of kids who don't know any better.  It was awfully fun to watch this team find its identity, make its mistakes, and still continue to win.

So, when a season seems to be a little bit magical, it's sad to see the end come at the hands of a long-time rival who seemed to just be able to do the same things the Twins do well.. but on one night, do them just a bit better.  I have high hopes for the Twins in 2009, which brought a slight comfort on that couch, watching the sea of Black in US Cellular celebrate... but the thought that always pervades those feelings is that another 162 games have to be played, just to have this chance again.  I know those guys on the field feel 100 times worse than I do.  I also know they're going to use it as ammunition to come back better than before.

Either way you slice it, I was in a classic blue funk.... when Bryan walked in the door.

NYC

I'm here in New York.

All is well.

Internet just got hooked up.

More soon.

Baltimore, MD: Oriole Park at Camden Yards

This is a great park.

Brother-In-Law Bryan hooked us up with tickets from Stub Hub, in order to continue the unexpectedly-extended-Ballpark-tour-slash-move-to-New-York, since I'd been unexpectedly detained in Baltimore.  I'd wanted to see an Orioles game (much more than a Nationals game) since I first started to dream up this trip.  Bryan was more than willing to help me fulfill a bit of that dream by ensuring I got to a game; this one against the Tampa Bay Rays*.

*Soon to be division champs.  How's that for a crazy year.

Built in 1992, they jutted the new Camden right up against a gorgeous old warehouse.  Bryan and I went in the 1st base foul pole entrance, and Bryan made it a point to take me around the outfield.  Eutaw street runs through the ballpark area, meaning that during game time, it's INSIDE the stadium.  The vendors are lined up on the street between the warehouse and the stadium, it's a fan-tas-tic idea, and it gives the stadium a tail-gating, homey atmosphere. 

Eutaw Street, just north of Oriole Park.

Anyone can pop up to this railing and catch some of the action.

As for the actual game, there are two things to be said:  One, the Orioles are AW-FUL.  Terrible pitching, lackadaisical fielding, slow running.  And I mean SLOW.  I saw three screamers up the third base line that turned into singles.  SINGLES.  The term "double up the line" came from somewhere...  it came from hits, up the line, that usually turn into DOUBLES.  Poor Baltimore.  Your baseball team kind of sucks.  

So, the crowd was small.  And, not only was the crowd small, they were a little bit dense.  This statement in no way reflects all Baltimore baseball fans... I'm sure anyone from Baltimore who actually knows baseball was staying as far away from the stadium as possible.  Considering the team they've got, who could blame them.  However, the fans at Camden on this gorgeous Monday night really had no idea what was going on.  They seemed to be much more content to heckle Aubrey Huff about his contract than actually focus on the game that was being played.  

Bryan and I had a great time on our own, though.  We had a couple beers and a VERY good hot dog (Juicy, fat, tasty, simple.  Camden doesn't take its hot dogs too seriously, they just give it to you like it is.  And it is delicious).  We chatted fantasy baseball, and I kept pointing out all the former Twins that were a part of both teams:

Former Twin Jason Bartlett.

Former Twin (released this year) Brian Bass.

Former Twin Grant Balfour.

Not pictured, former Twin Juan Castro (Orioles starting shortstop) and former Twin Matt Garza (whom I thought would be starting this evening.  Alas.)

Illustrating how bad the Orioles are... Brain Bass was released from the mop-up role in Minnesota, and landed a starting job in Baltimore.  He was pulled with a no-hitter going in the fifth... although he had the bases loaded at the time.  Sheesh.

This is a great park, and I again feel bad for a group of wonderful sports fans that have had to suffer through years and years of a crappy team.  Orioles.  Draft pitchers.  Seriously.

However, this ballpark is reflective of the great town it's in.  Folded into the cityscape, it's got the red brick essence of the city around it, it feels like home.  I can only imagine what it was like to cheer on Cal Ripken as he broke Lou Gehrig's iron man record... a packed house in Camden... the black and the orange permeating the undulating crowd...  Wow.  I realize that I'm sitting in Camden Yards... and it's wonderful.

Life update

So, yeah.

The long story short:

Our broker* promised us at the beginning of this moving process that we would be able to move all of our stuff into the apartment earlier than the lease date of October 1st.  Though our bodies wouldn't be able to sleep there, at least the load of crap in the back of Greased Lightning would be able to have a home while I went on job interviews.

* So... you East Coasters must know all about this broker thing.  I had never heard of it before.   Apparently these are the people who make you never ever want to leave your first apartment in New York because they charge thousands of dollars to help you find it.  Seriously, midwesterners... THOUSANDS of dollars to find an apartment.  I guess I'm just still so Midwesternly Simple, that drives me crazy.

As it turns out, our broker didn't have the power to promise us that our place would be ready to move stuff into.  Granted, she probably got caught in a promise by the apartment owners, but it's still her responsibility to give us the correct information.

Melissa was her usual awesome self, calling the broker and pointing out many facts... One, we wouldn't have moved our stuff in a UHaul all the way across country with no final destination if we hadn't been convinced by our broker that we had a place to put it.  Two, to put our stuff somewhere until October 1 is going to cost us money.  Three, and most logically, the additional money we're going to have to spend should be accountable to someone; most likely the person who promised us something she did not deliver.

Long story short (Too late), the broker dropped her fee, Melissa and I came to the conclusion that it will be easier to keep all the stuff in the UHaul until it's time to move it into the apartment, and we decided it's going to be easiest to keep an eye on said UHaul here in Baltimore (Where it's in a safe parking spot and we won't be cramming two of us onto a hide-a-bed at Kristin's).

So, I've been spending my days in Baltimore exploring Light Street, catching an Orioles game, applying for jobs online, and doing my DAMN-dest to keep updated on the Twins stretch run to the playoffs.  I'm reachable, I'm stationery, and I'm getting really good at Tiger Woods Golf 2008.

Greetings from Baltimore!

Washington, DC: Nationals Park

Brother-in-law Bryan and I took off from Baltimore at about 5:00 in order to get to D.C.  We chose a bit of a different route than I've been taking to the ballpark.  We took I-95 to the Greenbelt Metro station north of DC.  We parked and rode the train to the Navy Yard stop, and when you come out of the train station to turn left, the park is right there, while the capitol is to your right:

The view of the capitol from the train station

Nationals Park is in its inaugural season this year.  It’s a nice, new-ish style stadium.  In layout and footprint, not a heck of a lot different from Progressive Field in Cleveland.  One of the slight disappointments is the area surrounding the stadium.  There’s some nondescript office buildings, and the river to the south, but the view from the stadium doesn’t face the river; or the government buildings.  Bryan suggested that the District is probably hoping for the stadium to be a boon to the area, and hopefully shops and culture start to spring up around it.  If that’s the case, it should be great in a couple of years, but right now the part of town is pretty drab.

Bryan and I grabbed some upper-deck tickets from the box office.  Nationals Park hasn’t really realized their team is terrible... the lower deck is vastly overpriced.  In the first few innings, the upper deck crowds outnumbered the lower by probably 2-1.  I guarantee that patrons going to Nationals Park next year will find some lower-level price cuts... if the management has any intelligence about it.  Which.. they might not.

The upper-deck view of the field.  No wonder no one will pay $60+ to sit lower.

The best part of the night?  

FLOPPY CAMOUFLAGE HAT NIGHT!!

Lunzer, this one’s for you.

Bryan doesn’t like to turn around for pictures.

It was veterans’ recognition night, which is why the floppy hats were in abundance.  They did some nice tributes, including the color guard and a fantastic Star Spangled Banner by a Navy Musician 1st Class.  I always get nervous when ballparks hold military tributes*...  but Nationals Park did a nice job of honoring but not fauning.  It was inspiring but not overboard.

*Melissa and I attended a Twins/Rangers game at Arlington in 2006, and the military sappiness was just nauseating.  Like I said, I don’t mind a tribute or honor.  My brother is in the Air Force, and though I don’t always agree with the ideals, I couldn’t be prouder of him.  Military members do a hard job.  But, the Arlington experience was so... Texas.  Too big, too much, you know.  That’s all.

A nicely done Anthem.

Bryan introduced me to Yeungling beer and Old Bay spice... it’s marvelous on fries.  We munched and drank and Bryan did the Nationals’ half the scorebook.  Bryan dropped his beer, but saved the overflow by dropping the fizzing bottle into his empty glass.  It was a moment of inspiring improvisation... and saved the beer.  Which is the most important.

Unfortunately, late in the game we got a call from Melissa with bad news...  We had been told by our broker (all through the leasing process of our apartment) that we’d be able to move our stuff in this weekend.  Since it’s brand new, and the apartments haven’t been inspected, it wasn’t something she was actually able to promise.  It turns out we won’t be able to move stuff in early, and Bryan and I left with a 5-5 tie in the 7th inning in order to deal with the issue, which I’ll touch on in a later post.

I think Nationals Park has potential, especially in the development of the neighborhood.  I don’t think the park has enough personality on its own to draw without a good neighborhood and a better team.  I’ll end with my hands-down favorite part of the night, the Presidents’ Race:

Lincoln had a handy lead before pulling a hammy and giving the race to Washington.  Out of all the variations of this odd tradition, this is probably my favorite.

Thanks to Bryan for a good time in D.C.!

DAY SIX: Baltimore

Ahhhh....

Woke up late.

Updated the blog.

Did a load of laundry.

Updated my itunes.

Played Tiger Woods 08.

Emptied the cooler.

Watched two episodes of Dexter.

Brian came home, and we went to see baseball.

I needed that.

Road Album of the day:

Mitch Hedberg, Mitch All Together.

"I'm against picketing, but I don't know how to show it."

"You know, I'm sick of following my dreams, man. I'm just going to ask where they're going and hook up with 'em later."

RIP, Mitch.

DAY FIVE: Road Notes

Two drives today, with a ball game in between.  In order to make it to the 12:00 Pirates game in Pittsburgh, I had to leave Cleveland around 9:00 am.  After the game, it's on to Baltimore to stay with brother-in-law Bryan and girlfriend Barb.

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The Holiday Inn Express in Cleveland is actually pretty great... big old building with high ceilings, old-school elevators, and only 4 blocks from the stadium.  Plus, they let me park the UHaul (officially named.. see below) right IN FRONT of the building on Euclid Avenue in Cleveland.  The signs near the curb say "Drop off and pick up only", but the front desk crew let me keep it there anyway.  Free convenient parking?  Chalk one up for the Holiday Inn Express.

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Stayed up a bit too late trying to fanagle the hotel wireless into letting me upload the Wrigley video...  finally gave up and crashed out three beers later.

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I'd like to take this opportunity to point out how much Google Maps rocks.  I've printed out every leg of my trip, and it has never once led me astray.  It even tells me when I'll be passing in to the next state, which roads are toll roads, and keeps an accurate "Miles so far" tally, so I can just check my odometer to see how far my next turn is.  It's been super.

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Somewhere in Maryland, I saw a sign for "Licking Creek."  I put on my low, scuzzy redneck voice and said to myself, "I'D like to lick some creek..."  I tell you, some things that just aren't that funny can sometimes make you laugh for miles.

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Made it to Bryan and Barb's by about 8:45 pm and slept soundly on their futon.  I'm still getting used to this Eastern time thing.  Sometimes I think it's late, other times I think it's early.  It'll come to me soon, I suppose.

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Road Album of the Day:

Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins, "Rabbit Fur Coat"

Jenny is the former-child-actor-turned-Indie-queen lead singer of Rilo Kiley.  I was first introduced to Rilo Kiley by my friend Matt Van Bockern in college.  While living in LA, he was able to catch a lot of their early shows.  Rilo Kiley has grown in a fascinating direction musically, and on her solo album, Jenny gets a chance to show a bit of a different side.  Reco-Fennell-mended.

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I almost forgot!  Dad gave the truck a name.  We were talking about the good mileage I was getting and great time I was making, when he said, "Oh yeah, I thought of a name!"  I queried, and marveled in its perfection.  The Uhaul is automatic... It's SYS-tematic... It's HY-DRO-matic...

Why it must be Greased Lightning!

PNC Park: Pittsburgh, PA

One thing I've found very interesting is how the Eastern big cities are "tucked in" to the land around them.  It's very different from the Midwestern "urban sprawl."  There's not a need for a flat-land city like Kansas City or Minneapolis to concentrate its population.  Therefore, you feel like you're in the city for hours as you drive in, thinking "Why the heck am I not there yet??"  Chicago felt that way a few days ago.

Pittsburgh, however, is the most extreme example I've yet seen of a tucked-in city.  Pittsburgh set up its shop on the rivers, deep in a ravine surrounded by rolling hills.  While driving in, I kept checking Greased Lightning's odometer; thinking I must be coming up on the city any minute now.  The mile markers and exits kept ticking down, when finally I spotted a bit of city over the trees:

I then made one turn, the ravine unfolded, and Pittsburgh revealed itself to me.

I have to say, it's a cool looking city.  The bridges, the buildings, the hills, it all makes for quite a sight.  It didn't hurt that it was an absolutely gorgeous day.  I've been considerably blessed by weather on this trip, and Pittsburgh was no exception.  

This road lead me to PNC Park.  It's a simple exit right off the highway to get to the stadium.  PNC Park and Heinz Field (Where the Steelers play) were built into their own little complex right on the river, but boy oh BOY did PNC get the location.  Jutted right up against the river, you look out over the outfield fences and they've put nothing in to obstruct the gorgeous view of downtown.

Picture taken from the walkway behind center field.

I thought I was going to be just in time for the game, so I was happy to find out it didn't start until 12:35.  I took the extra time to walk around the concourses.  The stadium is designed  so that you can leisurely walk around the entire thing, and very seldom are there places where you can't see the whole field.  I grabbed a dog, a local brew (I've forgotten the name, but it was delicious) and some cheese and onion perogies for lunch.  The dog was very good, the perogies were.. um...  filling.

This stadium has everything, and I do mean everything.  In addition to the view and the baseball field itself, it's got restaurants, upper deck picnic terraces (where you can sit at an umbrella'ed table and still see the entire game), a nightclub-style bar, Pirates history museum, statues of former Pirates greats, even a place to go sing "PNC Idol" and try to be good enough to get on the big screen later in the game.  There was so much to see, it wasn't until 5 minutes before the game that I realized I hadn't even tried to find my seats yet.

I entered through this gate, where PNC honors the Negro leagues.

The statue is of Josh Gibson.

I had reserved a general admission bleacher seat, the cheapest ticket in the house.  I was in a similar position to my view in Cleveland, but there really is no bad seat in PNC.  The sun was high to our left, and I paid for the innings I sat there with a bit of a burn on my left arm and neck.  Still, though, it felt great.  Even as I thought to myself, "yep, this is going to burn a little bit," I closed my eyes, took a deep breath of river air and thought of the Metrodome.  Have heart, Twins fans!  Your day in the sun is coming!

I stayed in my bleacher for a few innings, and then walked around.  The best part of the ballpark, in my opinion, is that no matter where you are in the concourses you can see the game.  I walked around the "good seats", leaned on a railing or a table, and scored from there for a while.  I caught three innings of the game, all while wandering.  It's a wonderful design, keeping you close enough to the game so you don't feel like you're missing it, but also allowing you to take in the other attractions.

Views from my bleacher.

The worst part about Pittsburgh's baseball situation is that the team stinks.  There were a few thousand people at the ballpark for the day game, most of them were screaming obnoxious kids on fieldtrips.  I also caught a couple of shirt-and-tie wearing execs running up the bleachers to catch an hour of baseball during their lunch.  I don't blame anyone from Pittsburgh for coming out to a day game on a gorgeous day like this, but it's not for the team.  The Pirates are poised to finish last in the NL Central, again, probably over 30 games behind the 1st place Cubs.  Their last championship was in 1979* and they've fielded some pretty awful teams for years now.  Pittsburgh is a great sports town, and the thought that kept popping into my head while looking around at the gorgeous stadium was, "These fans in this stadium deserve better."

* I didn't realize until I was at the stadium which team won the world series the year I was born.   I felt a little kinship with the Pirates in that moment.

Manny being Manny.

My well-traveled and beat-up scorebook with the three games... so far.

The game itself was actually pretty great.  Paul Maholm of the Pirates went 7 innings, giving up three runs, and did very well holding the Dodgers down.  The game was still tied after 9 innings, when I unfortunately needed to leave in order to get to Baltimore at a reasonable hour. I found out later that the Dodgers' bullpen outlasted the Pirates bullpen in 12 innings, no shock there.

Random PNC Notes:

 - The couple sitting in front of me for the first few innings were great. I asked them about their Negro Leagues shirts and whether they had been to the museum in Kansas City (they had not).  The woman had obviously not been to many baseball games before, but was enjoying it thoroughly.  The woman asked me what I was doing with my scorebook, and I showed her a few pages.  This prompted the conversation about my trip, and that this was the third baseball game I had seen in a row.  I got a good laugh when the woman asked, "Are you a groupie?"  No, I assured her.  Just a nerd.

- With all the Pirates history abound, there is one former Pirates great who is conspicuously invisible at PNC Park... I won't mention names, but it rhymes with Garry Ponds.

- I bought a Pirates hat to deal with the sun.  But also because through all the years, bad teams, new ballparks, etc.; there are few more badass designs than that yellow "P" on the black hat.  Classic.

- My last note has to with the radio broadcast.  Since I left the game early, I tried to flip it on in the UHaul, only to find no game broadcast on any band.  How could Pittsburgh not be broadcasting the game?  Oddly enough, they did have the radio broadcast in the bathrooms of the stadium, and the announcers sounded pretty bad.  A paraphrased exchange by the play-by-play and color guy for the Pirates:

Guy 1:  How about (Name of Player from Dodgers)?

Guy 2: (Pause) Uhhhh...

Guy 1:  Why don't you turn to page one of your media guide there.

(shuffling of papers, interminable pause)

Dad listens to a lot of XM radio baseball, and apparently all their games are like this. Maybe I didn't miss much.

Wrigley video!

Enjoy!

Progressive Field: Cleveland, OH

Progressive field stands right off the highway in downtown Cleveland.  I didn't even know it, but I took this picture of the stadium as I was trying to get the skyline:

Progressive is one of the nicer of the "new-ish" ballparks, as I like to call them.  The "New-ish" ballparks are the newest in terms of actual age, but are definitely designed to throw back to the old grandstands of yore.  In the 60's-70's, huge concrete monstrosities were built in the name of economics and conveniences.  The Astrodome, the Metrodome, Shea Stadium, etc.  The 80's-90's brought with it a backlash against the concrete bowl that had dominated stadium design for the past couple decades.  Some of the newer ones tried to bring back the grandstand feel, and Progressive does it quite nicely.

The jumbotron behind the bleachers.  Neil had his back to this.

After breathing in Wrigley, any stadium was going to look a little glossy and fake, so I feel a little bit bad for Progressive (formerly Jacobs field) that I had to take it in the day after that.  It seemed clean (but a little too clean), you get the idea.  It's shiny and new.

One of my favorite parts of Progressive was their "Heritage Park."  They have bronze plaques for every great Indians player, and a "Top 100 All-Time" players wall (cutoff was 2001).  It was nice to grab a Great Lakes brew and mosey through this area, taking a glance at all the great names that have passed through Indians history.

Neil and Satchel Paige.

Notes on the game:

Scott Baker started for the Twins against the 22-2 and eventual AL Cy Young award winner Cliff Lee.  Both pitchers struggled with command out of the gate, Baker leaving after giving up 4 runs in 4 1/3, Cliff Lee leaving after giving up the tying runs in the 6th.  After that it was up to the bullpens.

The view from my bleacher seat.

Twins hitters are continuing to have good at-bats, from what I could tell.  They forced all the Indians pitchers to go deep into counts, driving pitch counts up and shooting a ball over the infield.  Justin Morneau is doing this better than anybody.  He had 3 hits with 2 RBI's on hard-struck singles and one sacrifice.  I know a lot of people probably miss the big-bopper Morneau, driving them over the fence, and I know I wouldn't mind seeing him drive in a few 3-run bombs now and then.

As has been the case this month, the bullpen allowed the Indians to re-take the lead late, and with my crazy case of "bleacher butt,"* I headed for the hotel after the 8th.

*Seriously.  I've never had anything like it.  I think it's a combination of driving and stadium seating, but the entire surface of my rear end started to itch like nobody's business.  Rather than submit the few rows behind me to a 9th inning of scratching, I headed for the exit and a shower.

DAY FOUR: Road Notes

I put on my Twins t-shirt, a gift from my co-workers at Campbell Mithun; at the beginning of the day in preparation for the Twins @ Cleveland game Wednesday night.  I expected some ribbing from the opposing fans, since I was obviously out of my element.  I didn't realize how soon it would start, though.  Paying my toll to leave Chicago at 9:30 am, the toll booth guy fixed his stare on me and intoned, "Go Sox."  I stared for a second, forgetting my attire.  He dropped his eyes to my shirt poignantly and repeated, sternly: "Go Sox."  We shared a knowing smile as I shrugged, paid, and said "good luck."

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Northern Indiana, having figured out that it's a pass-through state between Chicago and the East coast, has figured out how to milk every last dollar out of its travelers.  Not only is the entire road a toll, but the only fuel stops on the interstate are state-sponsored "travel plazas" with one restaurant and one gas station per plaza.  Gas went from $3.49 in Iowa to $3.99 in Illinois, to $4.39 in Indiana.  Unfortunately, I neglected to fill up the UHaul until Indiana, meaning I spent almost a dollar extra on each of the 25 gallons I filled.  Yipes.

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Road album of the day:

Pinkerton, by Weezer.  One of the great albums of my adolescence.  Plus, if anything can help wash the taste of their last two progressively awful albums out of my mouth, it's this one.

Wrigley Video

I have compiled and edited my Wrigley video... which I would upload... if YouTube wasn't going through Site maintenance.  I'll post it soon.

The Friendly Confines

"The ballparks are like cathedrals."

- Crash Davis, Bull Durham

This is my first mini-attempt at a ballpark tour.  I've fantasized before about doing the whole country during a season, so this move provided me the opportunity to see at least four of the stadiums I had never seen before.  With one down, I have one recommendation for anyone pursuing a ballpark tour:

Do not see Wrigley first.

All other ballparks will pale in comparison.

I've been to Fenway, but not during a game, so my view of the world may be skewed, slightly. But walking into that old, OLD building with the neon sign, welcoming you to Wrigley field, is something that words can't describe for a baseball fan.

Wait, I've gotten ahead of myself.  I would be lax if I didn't mention the insane energy of Wrigleyville.  Streets upon streets of blue and red, vendors, nothing but Cubs as far as the eye can see.  It's as if the stadium itself were so bursting with its own history that it had no choice but to spill over into the entire north side of Chicago.

Neil's partying like it's 1914.

I've heard complaints that Wrigley is for the "fashionable fan..."  Barack Obama recently spoke out about Chicago baseball, claiming that the White Sox are the team in town that plays "serious" baseball, that if you want to have a beer and see the beautiful people, go to Wrigley.  I did see Barack's point at certain times... there were a fair amount of tight-shirted guys and trophy girlfriends walking back and forth to the concessions.  Plenty of tight jeans to ogle at, no matter your preference.  I will argue, though, that the Cubs fans are passionate, knowledgeable, smart, and LOUD.  I was tempered on baseball in a stadium that was once blamed for magnifying crowd noise... and Wrigley beat those decibels hands down.

Plus, I've been to New Comiskey (I hate and refuse to call it US Cellular), and it's a concrete bore.  It's the same as all the new-ish ballparks.  Walking out of the ramp in Wrigley to see that green field, surrounded by the old concrete, you can almost breathe in the air from the early century.  The old wooden seats have given away to plastic, but the metal fittings holding the rows together are original.  Netting has been put up in order to keep old concrete from falling into concourses, but it's still the same structure.  New stadiums will never have what Wrigley has... until they've been around for 90 years.  

The partial view from my seat.

I sat in my seat for a good half hour before the game started, just taking it all in.  Baseball is full of its own history, and prides itself on its never-changing nature.  Details may change over the years: the designated hitter, wild cards, interleague play, etc.  But what makes baseball an obsession is its stodginess.  The rules haven't changed in almost 150 years... 9 innings, 3 outs, 3 strikes, 9 players to a side, you get the idea.  Little things have changed, but the essence of the game stays the same.  This is why we can still have debates such as "who would you rather have on your team, Babe Ruth or Albert Pujols?"  It's not even a silly question, because both players (though from different eras) played the same game.  Sure, details have changed... salaries have grown, relief pitchers come in earlier, night games, all that.  But they played the same game.  The same game that has been played for over a century.

In that way, Wrigley is representative of everything we hold dear to our hearts about baseball.  Wrigley reminds us of the past, and strives to maintain it.  At almost any other stadium, you could look up to the digital jumbotron and see the score, count, batter, pitcher of any game going on in any stadium.  Wrigley's scoreboard is still hand-operated.  The box scores fall behind at times, sometimes not even showing the inning-by-inning score at all, as the scoreboard folks struggle to keep up.  That's what you've come for, though.  You've come to Wrigley to be a part of the past, to taste history for a while.  And you wouldn't have it another way.

The hand-operated scoreboard upon which 

I can see my Twins getting killed by Cleveland...

The details of the game (as Dr. Evil would say) are quite inconsequential.  I got to see C.C. Sabathia pitch, and lose, which is unusual.  I saw three home runs, two of them by Prince Fielder of the Brewers (Son of Cecil Fielder, All-Star first baseman... talk about living in the past), and a once-great Cubs starter closed out a 5-4 win, but not before he kept it interesting in true Cubs style, by giving up a run in the ninth.  

I found myself rooting for the Cubs by the end of the game, and thought, "How could you not?"  There's a reason these great fans have stuck through dry years and curses and multiplied and flourished...  These Chicago Cubs will always keep you coming back for more.  In this great cathedral that they play in, the Cubs will always be what they once were.  That thought, both comforting and maddening, will make you itch and fume and eventually want to return.  

I can't wait to go back.

The moon rises over Wrigley on a perfect baseball night.

DAY THREE: Chicago

The drive to Chicago was surprisingly easy... my new UHaul friend handles like a champ. I arose at 5:30 am (After a great night of sleep... Noelle was kind enough to let me soak my bones in the hot tub the night before. It was just what the old back needed), and was on the road by 6:00.

It turned into an absolutely beautiful day across Iowa, and I made it to Chicago by 3:30 pm. Tracy helped me park my New Friend (really, I need some names. Help me out, people) and helped me get stuff into her cool Chicago apartment.

I had a great time catching up with old college friends Chuck and Carrie from Savannah College of Art and Design... Chuck recommended a Chicago-style deep-dish pizza place that was far enough from the stadium in order to not feel the crazy Cubs crowds. It was a great idea, the place was sparse and the pizza was thick and cheesey. I paid for it a bit the next morning... that's a lot of cheese.

Chuck and Carrie and myself below... a few years older, I'm a few inches fatter.

DAY THREE: Road Notes

Road Beard.

Stopped to eat lunch at this table in Illinois. I have a feeling Ma Ma J wasn't too happy with me for eating my own food and not hers.

Chicago.

Road album of the day:

Mudcrutch, Tomy Petty's new band. This album is straight up Petty rock, perfect road music.

DAY TWO

The new UHaul was picked up today. If you asked me, "Neil, did you feel a little silly unloading and returning one UHaul, while picking up and loading up a different one?" I'd say, yes. A little silly.


But I have a much better feeling about this UHaul. It's smaller, fits me a little better, seems to handle a little better. I was telling my friend Dan that the first UHaul felt a bit like a dirty one-night stand... Used for one night, and sent on it's way the next. Loaded up quickly, unloaded even quicker, and given back before we even got to know each other. It wasn't the greatest, either... Rough on the ups and downs... we never got into a rythym.


However, I'm going to be spending a lot of time with this one. It's more compact, the things are packed better. I treated this one with a little more respect and kindness right away... Plus it goes 70. Hot.


Here's the UHaul I'll be forming a relationship with over the next 6 days:

You should be friends before you're lovers. That's good advice, I think. UHaul, let's take this time to get to know each other.

Any good suggestions on names?

DAY ONE: Road Notes

Some notes from my first "road day":

1.) I had the chance to catch the Vikings broadcast of the Minnesota/Colts game all the way down on Sunday.  Anyone who appreciates sports will understand this, and anyone who appreciates having to listen to a sporting event on the radio that you'd rather be watching will appreciate this even more.

The "Voice of the Vikings" is Paul Allen, and I've only ever listened to him on his KFAN radio show once in a while in Minneapolis.  I don't listen to football on the radio, mostly because it's incredibly hard to picture a football game.  I love listening to radio baseball, because the calls are very simple... Single up the middle, Ball low and away, "a high, long drive over the center field fence!"  You know.

I wanted to give a public shout to Mr. Paul Allen, because his play-by-play was absolutely amazing.  No dead air, you could picture the play they were running just from his description.  There's a lot to cover in football, what with 22 players on the field at once, substitutions, formations, but Paul impressed me greatly.  He never missed a beat, never missed a detail, and colored it all so it was vivid in the imagination.  For the first time in my life, I really enjoyed listening to a football game.  I'm a great big fan of Vin Scully, the long-time Dodgers announcer, for all the same reasons.  You don't just get the facts, they're painting a picture.  It's something that has to be heard to be appreciated, but I wanted to say "well done, Paul Allen."

2.) A long-forgotten song popped up on my iPod, "New York City" by They Might Be Giants.  What an apropos song, I said to me.  But especially when the following lyric came up:

"I packed my stuff, got on the bus, I can't believe it's true
I'm three days from New York City and I'm three days from you"

Nice way to start a road trip.  Can't wait to see you, baby.

DAY ONE

Huge thanks go out to:

Courtney, Michael, Andy, Whitney, Sean, Derek, and Josh for cashing in their "good karma" chips and helping me move all the stuff out of the house.

For those of you unfamiliar with Good Karma Chips, they are the imaginary tokens you spend, giving you good karma.  Essentially, the more Chips you spend, the more you get back.  You just never know how or when they are coming back to you.

Since I am the one everyone chose to spend theirs on, I increase my chances of something awful happening to me.  I don't suppose I'm exacerbating my own chances of that by walking into Cleveland to cheer for the Minnesota Twins.  Nah.

The greatest of the Karma Chips was spent by Melissa's mom Karen.  Long story follows:

Midway through the packing process Saturday morning, Andy and I looked at the 17-foot U-Haul truck that we had already filled 1/3 of the way up, and realized there was no way the rest of the furniture was going to make it in.  In subsequent phone calls with Melissa, we came to two conclusions.  I unload the truck and return it for a new (larger) one, or Karen drives up from Lincoln with a 8-foot trailer.  Weighing all the options, I came to a couple of conclusions.  One, if I told the group at my house (working for free beer and not much else.  Good Karma Chips.  That’s it.) that we’d have to unload everything they did while I drove the 45 minutes to the Uhaul place and the 45 minutes back, I’d probably come back to find a note that said “Karma’s a fickle bitch, Neil, and I’m not ready to gamble it all on you.”  Two, we’d fill the whole truck up and gamble that the trailer would hold the rest.

Since Melissa’s folks had offered multiple times to drive up and help, I felt okay about asking... and Karen was awesome.  She took off directly from work with the trailer in tow, and rolled into Minneapolis at about 12:45 am.

Derek and Josh showed up at 8:00 am to help finish off the loading.  Here’s the amazing result:

What you’re not seeing in the video is the grill and four dining room chairs inside the van.  Not bad.  Not bad us.

Once in Lincoln, Brett, Jo, and Brad jumped right in to help unload.  Everything that I brought to be stored at Brett & Jo’s ended up there, and all of it incredibly left the truck in less than an hour.  Brad then helped unload the rest of the NY stuff into their garage, in preparation for the new Uhaul Monday.  Phew.  So, oh yeah, the Rosenbergers all have so much karma it’s ridiculous.

A day like this helps you really appreciate all the people in your life who are willing to jump in, no questions asked.  I was asleep at 10:30, exhausted but relieved, and slept dreamless sleep all the way through the night.  Thanks again, everybody.