Going to Milwaukee is incredibly cheap with my new car. A trip there and back is $20 in gas. I got two tickets for a total of $11.85 on StubHub. Parking was the biggest ripoff of the day at $10. Getting into the game, gas included, comes to $21. That's just about what it costs for JUST a ticket at Wrigley.
I was up here for one reason, and one reason only. I was dying to snag the Marlins commemorative ball, being used in Miami for the first season in their new ballpark.
I especially wanted this one because it was more attainable than any of the other five commemorative balls being used by other teams this season. My only unforeseeable challenge for each game is usually attendance, and I knew this one would be on the low side. Not many people show up to weekday day games, much less go inside early, ESPECIALLY when there is food to be grilled out in the parking lot. I thought I could catch multiple balls, and hopefully even ask a player to toss this specific one to me, or even trade them. (A ball is a ball to them, so I thought that could be a reasonable request).
Secondly, I consider Heath Bell one of my connections. Heath and Zack Hample are almost personal friends. Bell donates to Zack's charity, they have eachother's phone numbers, and they have actual conversations whenever they run into each other at games. Not to mention, Bell always tosses Zack awesome (special) balls.
Finally, I would be seeing the Marlins in two more weeks at Wrigley. In the unlikely chance I would get skunked this game, I would have another opportunity. I would have to try harder at the next one, but it would be worth it if I could eventually get one.
We walked by the tailgaters that were out in full force:
All those shades weren't just because it was a little sunny. I kid you not, it was 115 degrees in that parking lot. Just my luck, I would come to a game when record heat. This always seems to happen. I normally sweat my ass off while Ballhawking, but today it was starting to get dangerous.
I didn't exactly think this whole plan through completely. Many teams don't take BP before day games. This is especially true when there was a night game just several hours before. (Luckily the Cubs play more day games than any other team in the league, so they hit nearly every day. I guess I'm blessed in that aspect).
The heat was insane, so I shouldn't have been so surprised when I saw this:
No cage meant big trouble for me. We were still going to go in. We came all the way up here, and had no tailgate plans, so it's not like we could go back to the car and chill out for an hour.
The wait to get in seemed much longer than usual. Stress and being super hot really exhausted me. Security let us in the air conditioned concourse a little early....
...and then I was in.
The opportunities were slim. There were just a few Brewers getting some throws in.
I only shouted at one guy, bullpen catcher Marcus Hanel. He walked away with no response.
Typically, at this time, the visiting team is already on the field and pitchers are finishing their throwing. No Marlins were on the field, so I tried to position myself to catch someone as they came out of the dugout.
I spent all of 20 seconds out there before more Brewers came out on the other side. Sigh. I had to do it, they were my only option, even though the crowd really didn't work in my favor.
I can't even remember what happened to those balls. I may have just given up when I saw guys on the Marlins side.
If you noticed before, I had my black Giants hat and a dark grey shirt on. I hoped that would be enough to stick out. I positioned myself directly behind them, praying for a bounce or overthrow.
That kid you see in the bottom of the picture was one of four that were around me all day. We all had the same game plans with these limited chances.
The player closest to me walked down the line and handed the balls to families closer to the dugout. I still had nothing.
Now is when I started my marathon. I went from the left field line to the Brewers bullpen.
Nothing. They gave all their balls to little girls in the restaurant. I hate that place. When I get three or four people to comfortably meet the $30 order requirement, I'll make it money well spent and get lots of toss ups before the gates even open.
Next was over to the Marlins bullpen. Maybe a glove trick? I would totally try it if I saw one, but it was bone dry.
Before I could get a decent picture of the 'pen, I saw more Marlins come out. AHHHHH!
(That guy in the Stanton shirt is another guy that was always following me).
When these guys finished, I jumped on a seat and waved my arms. It was time to start getting that desperate. When they looked at the stands, I yelled at Wade LeBlanc to hook me up. The farther guy wound up, facing me. I thought it was mine, I really did. Even with me on the seat, it went three feet over my head.
If I wanted to be an asshole and possibly break a rib, I would have jumped. I turned around to see some chubby tween with no glove wearing a Brewers jersey catch it in-between bites of cheese fries . I was mad he was picked over me, but how the hell was he even seen?! I was blocking his view of the players, and they couldn't see him either. This was for sure the most frustrating moment of the day.
The only thing I could do now was wait by the Marlins dugout. Not a creature was stirring, not even a middle reliever. After a little bit, I took a break and moved to the shade. I met Kyra int he right field Field Bleachers, and decided to start the game sitting there. I saw the Sausages on the way.
I was amazed that we found two front row seats on the aisle in the first row behind the bullpen.
Mark Buehrle started to warm up before anyone else was out there.
Shorty before the game, the relievers and Mr. Bell showed up.
Bell walked over to the day camp 50 feet to our left. He took 4 handfuls of gum and launched them into the seats, much to the delight of the kids. On his way back, I made my move.
"Hey Heath, I bet Zack Hample would want you to toss me a ball".
No answer.
He took a seat along the back wall, and I gave another yell, but he didn't respond or look at me. The last thing I wanted to do was annoy him. Maybe he heard me, and would hook me up later at his own convenience.
First pitch from Mike Fiers to Jose Reyes:
I honestly didn't watch much of the game at all. The scoreboard wasn't visible, so I rarely know who was batting. I was more focused on getting the attention of a player, and finding something to say to make them think I really deserved a ball.
These particular guys were funny though. They kept playing little jokes on each other and goofed off. Here's a sunflower seed and Gatorade bottle baseball game:
After LeBlanc told the camp kids there would be no balls, I gave up on this. I wanted a better view, so we moved to the left field bleachers.
I was praying for a homer. It was very VERY empty, considering the game was actually going on. But the thing that was more likely was a warm up ball from Ryan Braun.
Everyone moved up to the shade seats in the last few rows. Fortunately, we found some on the aisle. It was packed up there while everyone was trying to get a sliver of shade.
Only one toss up was close to me. I hesitated from about 20 feet away, but it was to a large group of people. Would I have been able to get my glove on it? I would like to think so, but the many sets drunk hands would have made it tough. Regardless, I still no ball.
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| #3 Italian got the win. I wanted Chorizo. This day sucked in every conceivable way! |
Every game, the home plate umpire has at least four extra balls in his pockets; all mudded up and ready to go for game action. Most every ump gives them away before they head down the tunnel.
We hustled down to a better location before the ninth inning started. I wasn't sure how the usher would like people moving to the good seats, so we watched from the SRO area until the middle of the inning.
I picked out some aisle seats right behind the umpires tunnel. Honestly, for this one inning, these were the best seats I had ever sat in at an MLB game.
Right after the Marlins clinched the 4-0 win, I was right down at the dugout. Two balls flew up and across the roof. They surprised me, and the ladies sitting in the front row seats snatched them right up. I tried not to take my eye off the umpire for a second.
He walked over to his tunnel and turned....the opposite way.
I guessed wrong. He handed them right to the kids behind the on deck circle. I gave one more deflated shout to the bullpen coaches coming in with the bag of balls, but once again I got no response.
I didn't want to leave. That was the final admission of defeat. Eventually I had walk out and go home. I tried to think of what to do next. Would I even write about it for the blog? My overall streak was over, and it felt really wrong realizing I had to start it all over.
During the walk back to the car, I convinced myself that I did all I could do. There was no BP, and only 20 or so balls made their way to the seats before the game. I usually get lucky, and have a little skill, but I'm simply not a pro yet. All I could do now was try to just forget about it.
Let's hope I can rebound and get revenge. I'll be back at Miller Park in just ten days.
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