I should have gotten back on the El when I saw what the skies looked like at 35th Street.
I was still trying to ride my wave from May and keep everything flowing. I promised myself I wouldn't go if there was even the slightest chance of rain, and there actually wasn't when I bought the tickets two days earlier. It looked nasty, but the forecast called for it to steer clear of the South Side.
This was my second game here this year, and I only made it to one last year. I'm currently in the process of learning more about this park. I've seen for myself that it's a decently good place to get a ball. Due to things I never recognized or appreciated, I failed to see why this place was towards the top of the list in the Ballhawk world. Cheap tickets, small crowds, flat seats, and very easy for me to get to (traveling time aside), just to name a few.
The Sox were battling the Blue Jays. I tried my best to match colors for the visitors:
The blue works great, but the red hat wasn't my first choice. There was such a thing as too much blue. Red is sort of the color for the whole country up there. The Jays wear it on Canada Day as well. Works for me.
If you didn't notice, I was the very first one in line. Not towards the front like usual- literally FIRST. There were other gates on this side of the stadium, so I wouldn't have been surprised if someone beat me to right field even with this position.
The gates here open at 5:40. That's a real bummer, because for such an overall good Ballhawking stadium, there is only an hour to run around at the very most. An hour and a half before the game may sound like quite a long time, but there's NEVER too much batting practice. Some stadiums open two and a half hours early (Phillies, Nationals, Indians, Padres, Mariners, and Braves), which is sometimes longer then the game itself.
Shortly after I got inside, I ran right to right field, only to be let down.
God dammit. Not only was this now a moderate waste of my time, but it also became a fight for survival. I needed to get one right away to make sure my streak would extend to 15 games.
The fact that there wasn't a soul on the field who would give me a ball didn't help my mood. By the time I took any pictures, I had already done my quick scan in both the left field and right field seats. Looking back, I was just in denial. There hadn't been a batted ball in this park in almost 20 hours; why would one magically appear in front of me?
I refused to give up and scouted all my secret hiding places.
Nope.
Zilch.
Empty.
Nuh-uh. My goose was cooked.
Since the field was empty, nearly every other fan hung out somewhere other than the outfield seats, causing the stadium to look almost completely empty. (I mean...that's not an unusual event for the White Sox, but this was REALLY barren). If I ever developed a mental condition, this setting would be my reoccurring nightmare.
I had no choice but to hang out where the most players would eventually be at some point or another.
Believe me, I know these pictures of nothing that I put out one after another are extremely boring. Imagine being there!
I then hung out by the Blue Jays dugout for a couple minutes...
And took notice of the amount of Asians in the crowd. At first it was a couple beat reporters on the field. Then complete news crews, like this one, showed up:
I wrote it off as some sort of weird circumstance. I vacationed to Toronto a few years ago, and it wouldn't shock me if it was one of those cities that tons Asians relocated to. I figured it was kind of the same thing that the Mariners have going in Seattle.
Fans kept crowding around the Jays dugout, all of them Asian, and all of them in Jays stuff. It was really bugging me that I didn't know the reason, until I finally heard someone say that Chien-Ming Wang was making his first start after being signed to a 1-year contract. He's actually from Taiwan, which explains all the flags from an unknown nation I was seeing as well.
It all made sense now, but it was not a good thing for me to figure out. I can fake team colors and knowing who the players are, but it's not like I have a mask to make me look like Wang and all his friends.
It got to be that time of the evening to where I headed out to the visiting bullpen in order to get any type of warm up ball.
After a couple minutes, JP Arencibia was warming up with some coach by blocking balls in the dirt.
I was happy to see that, because it meant the ball I would soon catch would have lots of character in terms of scuff marks. At this point, there was no doubt in my mind I would get THAT ball. If I screwed it up, I would probably just get Wang's baseball instead.
Arencibia finished, then took the field to play with Wang (ha).
When the time came, I was on the far end of the pen, in full view, and one of the only people with a glove. I tried to get Arencibia's attention, and nearly thought I did, before he flipped the ball to some dudes above the middle of the bullpen with actual Jays jerseys on. It wasn't the MOST frustrating lost ball, but the guys who got it were sort of indifferent. This individual case was incredibly frustrating, however, due to the pickle I was just placed into.
I suddenly had less faith about Wang's final warm up ball. I knew what was coming, and over the next 10 minutes as he was in there, the Asian Invasion congregated.
It took much too long to see that I had no chance. At some point, I snapped and said to myself "No way. This is impossible", and ran over to the Sox bullpen in hopes of better luck.
That's Jose Quintana. He was still in the earlier stages, so I anxiously sat and waited for him to be done. You can see it wasn't too crowded throughout the park and the sun was shining brightly. Normally two great things, but it just wasn't my night.
I sang every word of the Canadian National Anthem when it was played.
After Quintana finished, he handed the ball right off to Hector Santiago. I kept asking him, but he just kept walking and not making eye contact with any fans. He stuck it in the pocket of his sweatshirt and sat down on the bench with all the other guys and got settled in for the game.
You've got to be kidding me.
There wasn't a single break for me. All of these events were stupid things that wouldn't really matter if they happened at different times. Unfortunately for me, they all happened RIGHT NOW, and I was in a bit of trouble.
I rationalized that leaving empty handed was not possible. I would somehow be able to come up with a plan that would get me a ball one way or another. I had too much experience and too many skills to have it happen like this. I could possibly misjudge or drop one due to not much practice, but as long as I was in position, I had no one to blame but myself.
I started the game here:
I'm definitely starting to see the good sides of US Cellular more and more every time I go. I'm mostly observing how things are run there. For instance, I'm now comfortable with paying six dollars and sneaking past the people that check for 100 level tickets. Another example is how much I like that the ushers on the 100 level could care less where you sit. You can grab a seat in the 6th row if you play it cool like I just did.
A few pictures from the 1st inning:
Mark DeRosa is the guy on third in that one picture. He's still one of my favorite players the Cubs ever had, even if he only played two years.
My strategy at this point was to get a White Sox player to throw me a third out ball. That's something I've never done before, but it was really all I had left. People like Zack Hample scope out an empty seat behind each dugout and flip flop for every half inning. I wouldn't be able to manage that tonight.
First of all, I was scared of getting caught and asked for my ticket. Then they would know I wasn't where I supposed to be, and that's a whole different issue. Secondly, the Jays side seemed way too crowded to maneuver around.
I was stuck behind the Sox dugout with my blue shirt. As you could have guessed, this was not the best situation. I had an okay shot in the 1st inning, but once the 2nd rolled around, kids from the whole section started to see the pattern and went down to the dugout too. I gave it one more shot in the 3rd, but it was no use. I was outnumbered, older than everyone else, and continually in the wrong spot. No matter who recorded the final out, Alexi Ramirez ended up with the ball. He went into the dugout one section to the left of where I was standing.
Additionally, I HATED the fact that I only got one chance every 25 minutes or so. I was waiting and waiting, only to be left with four seconds to make it happen. Like I said, I was in a crappy spot every time, and couldn't do anything about it. This was the most frustrating thing of the night. It would take the entire game just to make sure I got my timing and positioning right.
I couldn't take it. I was in this situation two times before in 2012, but I acted different this time. Instead of sitting there and grinding my teeth, I realized my temporary defeat and left the section. I had one more chance with the umpire balls at the very end of the game, and nothing before then. Why torture myself?
Kyra and I walked. The first place we ended up was the Sox Social Media Lounge, the first of it's kind in all of baseball. They offered charging stations for cell phones, free WiFi, and a place to chill out.
We then just wasted some time in numerous places.
I just wanted the game to be over. If you really care about the summary I usually give at this point, read it for yourself here.
I positioned myself right behind the plate for the top of the 9th:
Toronto was down 5-4, and there were only three outs until my last chance.
Then the worst possible thing happened. Jose Bautista lined a game tying homer to left field when the Jays were down to their FINAL strike. I would have to wait at least 15 more minutes, probably more since extra innings was a real possibility now. If this game went until 1:00 in the morning, I would have to stay. I couldn't bring myself to walk away knowing I willingly gave up my streak.
The Sox went 1-2-3 in the 9th, and it was on to extras. This game was literally a nightmare at this point....and about to get even worse.
Rajai Davis managed to make it to third base with one out in the top of the 10th. This was very good, because the Jays had a chance to score and finally begin the end to this game. After a random pitch to Arencibia, the field suddenly got darker.
THE LIGHTS WENT OUT.
I'm not talking Super Bowl blackout, but it was definitely noticeable. After about thirty seconds, my eyes got used to it. At this point, the umpires went to talk to both managers, whose general consensus was "It's not that bad, let's keep going". Thank God. Nonetheless, that five minute break added even more to my heart stopping anxiousness.
The Jays got two in the top of the 10th. With the exception of the universe hating me, that was going to be enough. If the Sox got two they would probably rally for three and the game would end that way instead.
The former was the result, with the game ending just after 11 PM. I was staring at home plate umpire Ed Hickox without even blinking. He waited for the rest of his crew to join him before walking inside, right below me.
Once the final pitch was made, a group of teenage kids came out of nowhere and stood next to me. They were just standing there, but I freaked out. I didn't think anybody else would know about this chance, much less have the awareness to go for it. But they didn't have gloves, so I hoped and prayed that would make me stick out.
Hickcox started down the tunnel. He had just a couple balls left in his pocket since he unloaded some to young kids in the scout seats in front of me. I didn't yell his name, because I didn't know it at the time, so I just I held my glove as far over the railing as I could.
And then....
I squeezed my empty glove. Fourteen games and eleven months worth of work all down the tubes.
I could have shoved the kid or tried to swat his hands while still going for the ball, but that's not the integrity I want to Ballhawk with. If I need to cheat and screw other people over, there's no achievement in that.
I was shocked. I couldn't believe this happened to me. I really thought I would be able to come up with something; some sort of plan to persevere. But it just wasn't my day. The hardest part was realizing that no matter how experienced I think I am, these days are still possible for me.
I visibly showed my frustration. Mostly because it was genuine, but maybe a little part of me wanted someone to notice. I sat in a seat, scratching my sunken head, mumbling to myself; more in a depressed way than an angry way. It may have been a tiny bit childish, but it really meant that much to me.
After my few moments, I took a deep breath and looked at Kyra. "Well, time to go". I didn't handle my first ball-less game too well last year, so I owed it to her to not take it out on anyone, even myself.
I just wanted to get out of there. I blew past her and took three steps at a time up towards the concourse. I snapped back around when I heard her yell, "RYE!!!!"
She pointed me to a Scout Seat waiter who was up on the steps, a little below the ground we were standing on. Without looking at me and continuing to stare at the field, he quietly said, "Wait five extra minutes".
I listened. I sat. I was silent. I was just waiting to do anything else he said. When most of the fans cleared out, he went down to where the umpires and fans both exited. Ten seconds later, he had a ball hidden behind his back as he was still taking tips and saying goodnight to fans. He walked back up, placed the ball in my glove, and disappeared.
HOLY SHIT.
I tired to quickly give him a card and explain what a lifesaver he was, but he could care less. He would probably get in trouble for doing this, which I assumed, so I just told him thanks.
I was by no means proud of it, but it counted. Given the ridiculous circumstances, anyway. For all the nonsense and unluckiness I went through today, I deserved it. I also consider this my first karma payback for the two glove tricks I gave away in Cincinnati. Still have one to go on that, too.
Three BaseBlog games with no batting practice. I'm scared to come back here now.
STATS
- 1 ball at this game
- 21 balls total this season
- 15 consecutive games with a ball
- 53 lifetime balls
- Time Spent at Game: 5 hours, 47 minutes
- Total time spent at games: 67 hours, 59 minutes
- 1 balls X 20,700 fans (Wow. Really?) = 20,700 Competition Factor
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