We parked in some random open lot much closer to the stadium. I was skeptical and worried at first; it IS downtown Detroit, after all. When I saw Lexus SUVs and families getting out of the cars next to us, I figured my tiny blue car would be just fine.
We arrived just after 4:30, and parted ways. I was completely on my own for the next two and a half hours.
I started to do another lap, since I probably missed something interesting the day before. As I was going around, I asked every single gate what time they would open. Most said 5:40 (and some even later), but no mention of anything before then. To this day, I'm still clueless about why they opened long before then for the first game.
I peered through the outside gate as I made my way to the front of the park:
I was pleased. I stayed there and watched for a minute as I listened to the sweet, sweet sound of balls raining down on the metal bleachers. Everything that happened so far hinted that it would be a pretty successful day once I got inside.
I stopped at one of the grand home plate entrances and asked someone to take a picture of me. I didn't get one yesterday, and I figured I should get it done ASAP before I forgot and didn't get one at all.
That's almost exactly the same place I stood when I took the same picture before one of the Bears games. I like when things come full circle like that.
I kept going and took all the same pictures as yesterday, but I'll only share a few of the new ones:
I did everything I wanted to, but still had 25 minutes to go before I would be let inside. I used to be obsessed with being at a given park VERY early. Now I realize it doesn't matter, especially when I'm not at Wrigley. At home, Easter Eggs remain untouched by stadium employees and are very easy to find. Thanks to the GA dynamic and the season ticket holders in the VIP line, half an hour is usually the minimum there. At other parks, I've narrowed my preference down to 15 or 20 minutes, or whenever the line starts to get long; whichever comes first.
The bag checkers started rifling through people's stuff at 5:38. This was going to be another cool night, so my bag was stuffed to the brim with a sweatshirt and my jacket. Like most places, the lady checking asked me to take them both out. That's cool, I definitely understand that.
Then she asked me to take out my sunflower seeds, glove, extra ball, markers, pens, and camera batteries. I thought she was getting a little out of hand at this point. My hands were full, so I had to put some stuff down on the ground, between my legs, and in my mouth. I thought for sure she would move on after that, but no. She felt something else in the front, where my zipper pocket was. "There's more in here. Where is it?"
Her tone almost made my jaw drop. She made it sound like I was a criminal, already knew I had something on me that she wanted to bust me with.
So, with my hands and mouth full, and things scattered on the ground all around me, I motioned towards the bag with my head, and told her, muffled and unclear with my mouth still full, "Zi-her. In da front. Open it". And then she did! She asked for my permission first, but went right ahead and dove in by herself.
I don't remember exactly what was in there, but only one thing mattered. I had my Glove Trick extension sting wrapped around a Dubble Bubble coin bank that once had gum in it. It also conveniently doubled as my business card holder so they would stay organized and not get bent.
She pulls it out and has an expression of "A-ha!" and "You're busted" on her face, to which I wasn't worried in the least bit. I had nothing to hide with my cards in there.
"And what is this for?", she asked, like she already knew the answer. Did she think I had a pipe bomb in this little thing? Is Detroit really that rough?
I opened it right up and showed her the inside. "I put my business cards in here so they won't get bent.....", I responded with my best deer in the headlights look to try to frustrate her.
"Noooo....I know what this is". Then it clicked. She's seen the cup trick before.
Basically, it's another gimmick on a long string to try to grab baseballs from the field. Instead of a glove, Ballhawks attach a cup (think tennis ball tube) to the end of their line. I'm not 100% sure how it works, but by adding some washers for weight and some sticky stuff on the inside rim, the ball stays in there even better than the method I use with my glove. I've actually seen it in action a couple times. It looks way too complicated, and is much harder to use than a marker and rubber band.
I could have made her explain to ME what it was in an effort to prove her wrong, but I wasn't able to think on my feet that quickly. I gave in and she told me it's not allowed inside. I asked her, nicely at this point, if I could just keep it. I had no intention of using the cup, and she still had no idea about my glove. Like I said, I don't even know how the Cup Trick works.
Just to get it over with, I started to hand it over with my string and metal hook still wrapped on there. To be more difficult (because she deserved it), I started to say "Well, I paid money for this metal hook so...."
"That's fine. I just can't let you bring THAT in". What is that?
I played dumb and decided to hand over piece by piece until she was satisfied. The first thing was the bank, and that ended up being all she wanted. She walked away and threw it in the garbage with the most angering smirk on her face, like she just thought she won. I would have loved to tell her that she took nothing away from me, I still had all my necessary equipment, and all she really did was possibly ruin 15 of my 200 remaining business cards.
This was still before the gates opened, so fortunately it didn't cost me any time. She thanked me for cooperating, and I smiled joyfully, not daring to voice my displeasure of her idiocy.
Unrelated to those circumstances, I was pretty well beat to the seats by a couple dozen people.
The Easter Egg strategy wasn't completely foiled. Before coming here, I walked the aisles of the last few foul line sections for any slicers that may have ended up there. Apparently that happens much more than I thought, so even though it yielded nothing, it was a decent idea.
I was in an awful position. The obstacles were currently at the most frustrating levels.
- Kids
- Older people, who were not doing anything wrong, but still getting in my way
- Camera well
- People in the corner spot next to said well
- Railings that kept me from moving from section to section
- The Rays and their 'no home run' policy
It was going to be a lame ball, since not even Babe Ruth himself could get one to me on the fly. But it offered isolation from other fans, something that always benefits me.
Lately, as a mid-season interest, I've been trying to catch action shots of my balls when the player is winding up or the ball is flying towards me in the air. I would eventually get the ball in the following photo, but this was the closest I could get to any action:
The guy facing me and jogging towards it was who picked it up.
I realized at this moment that I'm usually much to close to the player to have time to get my camera ready. Typically, I'm at the same elevation and only 15 to 20 feet away. The only time I would be able to attempt it is in a situation like this, where I'm at a greater distance and have much more flight time.
Additionally, I don't want players to see me trying to document the moment so carefully. To them, it may look like I'm interested in something else rather than just catching the ball for the sake of taking it home. That may sound stupid (and is probably a figment of my imagination), but anything I do to hurt my chances is something I should not continue doing. Action shots are cool, but not cool enough to cost me a ball.
Anyway, thanks dude.
Even though it was still very early and the amount of people inside wasn't a direct problem, I still was forced to go to right field. The seats in left only had so much area where a ball could land. A few years ago, they did some work on the park that would bring the left field wall farther in. But that doesn't mean the seats got any closer.
I would have had to place myself right in the middle of the biggest crowd was in order to have any chance. It would have taken some God like power to hit one anywhere besides those first three sections over from the foul pole.
I didn't have a choice. Right field spanned a bigger area, wasn't as far from the plate, and even more easy to navigate in the bleacher area.
I'll make this short and sweet- I got another ball. For as hard as I try, I can't remember it. Memories from other games have taken it's place in my head, and I don't have a very descriptive picture to boot. Just goes to show that getting it wasn't all that interesting. All I can offer you is this tweet I sent out just before 6 o'clock:
That was number 52, and the last one I would get.
I muttled around in the seats, still intently watching the hitters, but not 100% involved. I was getting to that point where I was flat out bored. I like getting baseballs, but I can't do just toss ups for too many games in a row without any excitement. I once again started to doubt myself and wonder if I was good or just lucky. I feel like I've become more of a Ball-asker than a Ballhawk.
Sometime when the Rays were still out there, I saw a face in the stands that my brain told me I definitely knew. I stopped and got a better look, but nothing was coming to mind. I was extremely confused. I was five hours from home at a game between two random teams- the odds of running into someone I know were basically zero. He was older than me, but looked to be in his 30s.
He had a Rays shirt and hat on that were not only atypical of the Rays fans I had seen this week, but simply fake. I've seen that look before. Hell, I've tried to pull off that look dozens of times at stadiums. I had a tiny piece of evidence to go on now.
"Hey. I know you have no idea who I am, and I'm not really sure who you are, but you look extremely familiar. Are you on....MyGameBalls?"
I was expecting a blank stare as an answer. Even some guys that catch balls are oblivious about the site.
"Yea...I am actually", he said, taken a little by surprise by the stranger that just approached him.
Once he introduced himself, I knew exactly what was going on. His name is Erik Jabs, a fellow Ballhawk from the Pittsburgh area. I followed him on Twitter before the season started, and have seen his name and picture pop up all season. His avatar is a clear shot of his face, so that's why it stuck out in my subconscious mind.
He was in Detroit with his family, and was hitting a couple parks while making his way to Wrigley, where the Pirates were playing that upcoming weekend. Hows that for irony? And again with the odds; five hours from home, coming from two different directions, in the same section on the same day at the same moment.
When he told me that, it propelled the conversation into me giving him tips about the best ways to navigate Wrigley as well as the Cell, since he was hitting both before heading home. I've come to realize that I really do know a great deal about both parks, even though I don't spend 60 days a season at either one like some Ballhawks do.
We then talked about Comerica, including everything we liked and disliked about it. He was here for a World Series game last year, so it hadn't been that long for him. He gave ME tips about this place, which I definitely listened to even though I was mostly done with the snagging part. He's a pro with over 2,400 balls, which puts him in the expert category as far as I'm concerned.
After that, I did sort of a little interview with him. I wanted to hear how he got into catching balls and his daily routine and methods. This makes the third expert I've talked to in addition to Zack and Shawn. I've gathered a pretty decent sample size, and it's amazing to me how different each one of these guys are. Their thinking, strategizing, attitude, and reasoning are all tweaked a little based on their personality, experience, and their home parks. Shawn is my age, Zack is unmarried and lives in New York, while Erik is close to other MLB parks and is doing the family thing. They're all so different but revolve around the same basic goal of catching a baseball.
Before we parted ways, I gave him one of my cards. For once, I didn't have to go through the task of explaining what I did. All I had to tell him is that it was my Ballhawk blog, and he gave a reaffirming nod.
Then I was back to being bored. I tried of course, but didn't ask players for any more balls. Nothing came from it.
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| This is where we were REALLY suppose to sit the day before. |
I first started by going back towards home plate to try to get a decent panoramic shot of the picturesque left field side. Here's the best one:
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| Go ahead and click that to expand it from this tiny image.... |
Over in the right field corner, I found exactly what I was looking for and more. The gift shop was located in a small plaza, away from the field and behind the concourse in the right field corner.
If you didn't notice, every animal on that carousel is a Tiger. HA!
I saw Erik again, riding with his little girl who couldn't have been older than two. Who says Dads can't Ballhawk? In all seriousness, it was very encouraging to see that an adult could make the time to keep living the dream while still having a family. Who knows where I'll be in 10 years, but at least I know it's possible.
There were also plenty of tables and concession stands. I would say it was a nice place to relax, but there were way too many people and not enough tables.
Anyway, I found a great logo ball buried deep in one of the bins in the gift shop:
After searching high and low, and asking a couple employees, I was finally able to locate one on clearance for $8. Well worth it, and a memento that also shows how the team was doing around the time I was there.
After that, I went to the upper deck, where I had yet to set foot even after spending so much time here the past two days. I had a perfect, unobstructed shot of all the prominent buildings in downtown:
And just below me, a porch area that serves no purpose in this entry rather than me thinking it was cool.
I continued my tradition of going to the tippy top corner and seeing what the view was like. Even though there wasn't that much else amazing about this park, I think it gets my top vote for the view from this seat.
The lower concourses were very appropriate in regards to what I expected. The gimmicks and extra building materials were very minimal down there. There wasn't a whole lot separating the inside of the park from the outside. (Don't forget about the see through outfield fence, too). It was simple, fit in very well, and got the job done perfectly.
One more picture before the game - another little picnic area I saw from above. I really just liked the tigers on the pendant looking things attached to the archways.
By the time I got to this spot, I only had 20 minutes to meet the guys at our seats in section 334. I got there right away, took a seat, and realized I didn't grab a scorecard yet. After passing the guys and going on a wild goose chase all the way down to the lower level, I finally managed to get one and make it back just in time to see Doug Fister to deliver the first pitch to Sam Fuld.
Fister was opposed by Alex Cobb....
Who would have quite a painful night a few starts later:
Fister was on my 2-11 fantasy team at the time, which swayed me ever so slightly to cheer for the Tigers.
I'm now 100% certain that the upper deck is my favorite place to sit in every park. For a game like this between two random teams where the action on the field really doesn't matter, it's a great way to keep the cost down. Plus, how can you not love views like this?
Actually, the seats we had were perfect for seeing that exact guy- last year's Triple Crown winner.
After what he did last season, I was thrilled to see this guy hit. It's not even up for argument that he had the best season at the plate in over 50 years. I know it's unlikely, and Chris Davis is giving him a hell of a time with the homers, but if he gets the Triple Crown for the second season in a row, I would consider him the best player in the game over the past 50 years. Period.
We also got up close and personal (as much as we could, anyway) with Evan Longoria.
Remember how I said last night's game seemed like it would never end? Tonight's was the polar opposite; it was almost over before I even knew it started.
If you can see past the inconveniently placed foul pole, they went to the top of the 9th STILL tied at zero, just about two hours after the game started. Last night, we were still somewhere in the 3rd at this point.
The Rays squeaked out three runs in the 9th on a sac fly and a couple hits. My new favorite Ray, Fernando Rodney (thanks to number 50), got the save.
And finally, my two balls from earlier, bringing my trip totals to 12 balls in four games:
Welp. See you later Detroit. Quite truthfully, I wouldn't rank you above the other parks I've been to in the past two seasons. No offense to the baseball stadium, but your city ain't doing so hot right now. Fans were also odd and not the most friendly. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed my time here, even though there's nothing that exceptionally great for Ballhawks. I really like your basic, yet still very unique diamond you have in town. Best of luck to the Tigers on beating the Sox and grabbing another pennant.
STATS
- 2 balls at this game
- 20 balls total this season
- 14 consecutive games with a ball
- 52 lifetime balls
- Time Spent at Game: 4 hours, 59 minutes
- Total time spent at games: 62 hours, 12 minutes
- 2 balls X 30,005 fans = 60,010 Competition Factor
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