Dad and I rose early on Saturday morning so we could make it to New Orleans with plenty of time to explore the local culture. We arrived in the late afternoon (only to find out that our hotel had overbooked and that we had been moved to another location) and headed for the French Quarter. After stopping to watch a street juggler, dad and I grabbed a quick bite of dinner (including blackened Alligator) and took our place in the line forming outside of Preservation Hall. After more than an hour, we paid our admission and joined a few hundred others in standing to watch some of the finest jazz you will ever hear. The rest of the night was spent roaming around Bourbon Street, watching the tourists stagger around with drinks in their hand, and fraternity men chant wildly at passing women. It was an experience I won't soon forget.
After a morning treat of Beignet's at New Orleans famous Cafe du Monde, I dropped my father off at the airport (for a flight back to Seattle) and picked my mother and step-father up (from a flight originating in Washington, DC). We grabbed a quick bite to eat (I had Red Beans & Rice) and did some shopping in the art district before loading me onto a train (which would take me to Miami for my next game).
I spent more than 28 hours on the train between New Orleans and Miami (the first leg in a sleeper car, the rest of the time talking to other passengers). I met a young boy who was traveling home with his grandmother from Houston as part of a four year quest to visit every ballpark in the nation. I met a plumber who commuted regularly up and down the Florida coast who used to attend baseball games regularly but decided it was too expensive to keep up the habit. And, I met a couple who was on their way home to West Palm Beach after forty two days on the train (all around the nation) who used to live in Minneapolis and really liked the Metrodome. It seemed everyone on the train (who quickly learned from others of my journeys) had an opinion about the National Pastime -- many of whom shared them with me throughout the day.
The train was delayed more than four hours overall, putting me into Miami shortly before 1:00am. I found the way to my hotel and quickly resigned to bed. After proving unable to sleep in because my air conditioning could do little to combat the rising temperatures and humidity, I ventured out of my room to explore. Having packed lightly, I was unpreprepared for the heat and spent most of the morning in my hotel room. I found a car and driver to take me into Miami, and ended up at the ballpark around 3:00pm.
"This place is big" was the first thing the driver of the car taking me to the game said as we approached Pro Player Stadium (formerly Joe Robbie Stadium) in Miami. Tens of thousands of parking spots surround the complex, which was designed as a football stadium (and is shared by the Miami Dolphins) and enormous cement spirals dot the corners helping to bring fans to the upper level seats. The councourses are very wide -- and very plain -- leaving plenty of room for fans or carts to traverse the hallways in search of food. And, the hallways underneath the stadium (which grant access to the special "bullpen" seating section) are large enough that visiting teams drive their team bus in to avoid conflict after a game.
The thing that really stands out in this otherwise "cookie cutter" stadium are the colors. The seats, which stretch around the field in two levels (not counting the two luxury suite levels which sit between the seating levels), are either bright orange or light blue. The outfield walls and out-of-town scoreboard (in left field) are a bright teal color. And, trying to disguise the plain concrete walls around the stadium are geometric (multi-colored) designs and dozens of individual advertising placards (each with several different colors). Everything in the ballpark is sponsored, from the scoreboards (budweiser and Chevron) to the foul poles (Office Depot) -- evidence of how it was the first stadium of its kind built with entirely private funds (back in 1984).
A few of the adaptations made to accomodate baseball are obvious. The outfield wall darts out an an almost 90 degree angle in deep center field (giving an area for the batting practice equipment to hide during play) and the bullpens are wedged into areas down each foul line (usually reserved on-field seating). Seats used during football games sit retracted behind the left field wall (giving hitters a loud target) while others have been rolled in behind home plate (actually putting fans closer to home plate than the pitchers mound). And, blue tarps cover most of the seats in the outfield (on all levels) with an enormous Jackie Robinson commemorative patch in left field.
There are a few special things as well. A fully operational restaurant fills most of right center field offering fans the chance to eat dinner while watching the action on the diamond. An area outside of the stadium called "SportsTown" offers fans two separate 7,500 square foot tents filled with televisions, food services, video games, and other entertainment areas. Two differen JumboTron scoreboards offer fans live action replays as well as player statistics and game information (pitch speeds for example). And, Pro Player stadium boasts the only electrically dissappearing pitchers mound (it lowers so football can be played without the actualy removal of the mound).
If you can manage the sticky weather (85 degrees with 75 percent humidity at game time on this night), Pro Player stadium is a great place to watch a ballgame.
A light rain did little to slow down the Marlins players as they took the field for batting practice. It did however put a slight damper on the filming of "Good Morning Columbia", a morning show (entirely in Spanish) on hand to do a segment on Marlins shortstop Edgar Renteria. The host, who was wearing a replica jersey of a different Marlins player, hurried to finish her interview with Renteria (interestingly set at a flower filled table complete with fresh orange juice and authentic South American pastries) before the raindrops fell, but had to rush to get her props off of the field before the skies opened.
While I sat with the other members of the media under cover, the Marlins players commenced with hitting and fielding practice -- oblivous to the inclement weather around them. Dressed in Marlins shorts and t-shirts (the regular warm-up uniform to help players battle the heat) the pitchers put on quite a hitting display -- with Alex Fernandez blasting a homerun to deep left field. Marlins manager Jim Leyland grabbed a spot next to me (I think because I was sitting in his spot) and puffed lightly on a cigarette while talking about the forecast for the evening. And, a local Spanish television representative chased certain players around the field trying to present them with a framed certificates and collared shirts, earned when they were selected player of the game for their efforts.
By the time the Astros took the field, the rain had stopped and the warm temperatures returned. "Hit one to that kid in right field," said one of the coaches located behind the batting cage. "Which one?" replied Astros outfielder Luis Gonzalez, who was just beginning to lay down some practice bunts. "The fat kid in the striped shirt . . . the one in the aisle." Gonzalez took aim, launching five home runs in all into the right field seats -- one coming within inches of striking the previously identified child who was not paying attention. The Astros around the cage erupted in laughter and profanity, congratulating Gonzalez for his accuracy, while Gonzelez joked about the consequences of injuring the young fan.
The Marlins front office was very helpful and friendly in arranging credentials and a meeting for me during my visit to Pro Player Stadium. I only had to send one request to the Marlins Media Relations office to gain access to the field, and after only one phone call I had scheduled a meeting with the folks in Public Relations. Unfortunately, when I arrived at the ballpark, I was unable to find my contact and thus never had a chance to sit down with anyone to talk about baseball. Instead, I spent my time talking to local media folks (the ones that weren't speaking Spanish) and players about their feelings on the game.
The Press Box at Pro Player stadium resembles the rest of the ballpark. It is clean, comfortable (except for the chair I chose which kept bouncing around), and extremely colorful. The dining facilities are nice and spacious (although most of the folks complained about the food), and copiers and fax machines are provided for use by the local media. Unfortunately, the design of the box is so complicated I got lost every time I ventured out of my seat. One door leads to the food court area, while another leads to the work area, and a third leads to the bathrooms (I think -- I never found the mens room).
The local reporters all kept their distance from me -- looking at me periodically with curiosity about my presence. Most of the writers weren't in the box until the third inning (about the time I left to take my seats in the stadium), instead choosing to watch the game in the lounge while filling themselves with frozen yogurt and cookies. They made very little noise during the game -- except for one female reporter on the very end of the box who bellowed stories to her colleagues throughout -- choosing to watch the game rather than work on their laptops. It wasn't until a beat writer from Houston approached me that I had actually said anything (except "oops" when I walked into someone) on this night. He had heard about my trip from the Astros traveling PR person (who I had met in Houston) and seemed very interested in following along on-line.
Things picked up in the fourth inning when a debate over the official way to score broke out. There was an argument between the official scorer and a report over a runner who had taken second basebwhile another runner (attempting to steal third base) was thrown out. After some yelling and a reading from the official Major League Baseball rule book, it was ruled that no stolen base applied, and things quieted back down. In the fifth, the press box celebrated the last night of one of the local beat writers (she was leaving to become a television reporter in Buffalo, NY). Carrot Cake was served and everyone took time out to congratulate the lucky lady -- even I grabbed a piece and wished her luck.
THE FOODThe food at Pro Player stadium seemed less than spectacular. There were hot dogs, peanuts, popcorn and Carvel Ice Cream. Every once in a while there was a Mrs. Fields cookie stand or a specialty sandwich area (with chicken fingers and things of that nature), and if you were really lucky, the line for a soda or watery beer (as desribed to me by numerous disgruntled fans) would be fewer than ten people. Nachos were the most popular food by far, with the concession stand I was standing at actually running out of the artificial cheese due to an above average number of requests. In my view, nothing really seemed that appetizing.
As I walked towards my seat, a single stand caught my eye and I decided it would be the source of my nourishment for this evening. The Arepa Queen stand, operated by a polite Spanish speaking young lady, served only a Corn-N-Cheese sandwich. Similar to a grilled cheese sandwich, the Corn-N-Cheese actually used polenta like corn cakes as the outside covering for the hot melted cheese in the center. Grilled fresh while I waited, the Corn-N-Cheese was one of the most interesting (not to mention tasty) of the things I have eaten on my journey. As for the pretzel, despite being warm and fluffy, the pretzel had the awful plastic taste so common with a pretzel left under the heating lamp too long and upset my stomach causing me to leave it only half eaten.
I have never been really good at reading maps, but I am pretty sure that Pro Player Stadium is located within the continental United States. However, you would hardly know that from the crowd gathered to watch the Marlins take on the visiting Houston Astros. Simply, a majority of the people in the stands, working behind the concession area, and even playing on the field spoke Spanish (apparently as their native language). As I walked around, I heard several chants from the crowds -- all in Spanish -- and tried listening to conversations, only to have my lack of Spanish speaking ability get in the way.
No matter what language they spoke, the crowd of 25,483 gathered on this muggy evening in Southern Florida was very involved in the game and supported the home team with deafening cheers. When the scoreboard operators started clapping routines, the crowd joined in and carried the pattern for quite a while. When star players such as Bobby Bonilla or Gary Sheffild were up to bat, the crowd chanted their first name in unison. And, on the rare occasion that a Marlins pitcher recorded a strikeout, the crowd erupted -- rising to their feet to rejoice.
Of course, not every fan in the stadium was worthy of such praise. In fact, most of the people in the section where I had purchased tickets were obnoxious and rather annoying. Sitting directly next to me was a young boy who refused to yield the armrest or move his feet off of the seat in front of me (forcing me to change seats due to discomfort). A mother and daughter behind me glared at me as I looked around to observe the crowd -- at one point hissing at me. And, a plump gentleman looked at me (when I arrived shortly before the start of the third inning) as if I didn't belong in the section and refused to engage me in conversation during my stay in the section. After listening to some conversations in my section, I could only infer that I had purchased tickets in a section occupied mostly by season ticket holders, and it was as if I gained admittance to their "club" without permission.
As for the clubs on the field, the game was a see-saw battle into the fifth inning. The Astros struck first for two runs, but the Marlins came back to tie. Marlins catcher Charles Johnson homered in the third inning to give the home team a two run lead, but the Astros battled back with aggressive baserunning and a homerun by Ricky Gutierrez (who had a career high 4 hits on the night) to tie the game in the fifth. The Astros took the lead in the eighth inning when the Marlins failed to turn an inning ending double play, but the error proved unimportant in the end of the game. The Marlins loaded the bases in the bottom of the ninth with one out and Moises alou blasted a single to right field scoring two runs and giving the Marlins a very exciting come-from-behind victory.
Surprisingly, the crowd stayed until the bitter end -- cheering their on their team (inspired by a clip from Animal House and the defeat of the division leading Atlanta Braves) even though the team entered the final frame down by a run. As the winning run rounded third base, the crowd erupted (not to mention the scoreboard operators who pounded on their plexiglass window) and stayed standing for several minutes after the game. Chants of "AAAAHH-LOOOH could be heard throughout the parking lot as fans ran to the vehicles. On this night at least, it was as if the fans truly loved baseball -- something I haven't been able to find in most cities or ballparks around the nation.
Here's a view of my sleeping compartment on the train. It's hard to see, but the top
bunk (where I slept) is only a foot or so away form the ceiling, making it very easy
for riders to hit their heads. Trust me.
Here's a view of the field from my seats at Pro Player Stadium. Security cables
to keep fans from falling over the sides obstructed my view slightly.
