It took me a while to get back into the swing of things. Wrigley was out of the question. It gets way too expensive and crowded this time of year. The Brewers had a few games, but that wouldn't be cost effective now that I go to games alone. (It worked out great the first time I did it, so I was going to continue until I discovered otherwise). The trip up north would have cost close to $50. Miller Park isn't THAT great of a stadium, even if I got to see Shawn.
What's left? Yup, my new favorite place to Ballhawk.
For the first time this year, the sun decided to show itself when I made the trip down. After finally seeing BP on July 2nd, I knew the Tigers would be out when I got in.
The lone player in that first picture is Justin Verlander. I immediately focused on him and moved/shuffled with every step he took. I REALLY wanted a ball from him. I felt like I had a good chance, based on how the seats looked for the first couple minutes.
My uniform was by far not one of my best efforts. I had my Yankee hat on backwards with a navy blue shirt with small-ish white lettering. I knew I could have done better, but I didn't quite want to. I'm still trying to break away from the toss ups. Every once in a while is nice, but it's not interesting or fun in the least bit when nearly all of your balls come to you that way.
Verlander was not as nice as I thought he would be. I didn't see him hand out a single ball. I'm definitely not judging, though. Guys have bad days all the time and do the opposite of what the scouting report tells me they'll do.
When I gave up on him, I made myself seen by Phil Coke and mystery catcher in the bullpen.
I was still in my favorite corner spot...
When a Tiger hit one out in this direction. I used to get way too excited and jumpy for fly balls, and with my luck of not catching a DAMN thing, I played it cool. I just stood there, watching it. Nothing out of the ordinary, really. I would have reacted the same way if I was three sections away.
I truly can't remember anything specific about most of the flight. It was coming towards me, I may have moved a little, but I was still assuming something would happen and I wouldn't catch it.
Right before impact, I reached my arm out over the gap and the Patio below me. Not extremely far, but still out there. I remember saying something to myself along the lines of "Oh, well here it is."
Again, rather emotionless. I raised my glove, lined it up and....it went in. Then I backed up a few....
Hang on...WHAT?!
No way...you've got to be kidding me! This finally happened?! I wasn't very excited, actually. My feelings were a mix of relief for grabbing my first one, and annoyance because it was so long overdue. Even though there wasn't much emotion, I still enjoyed the heck out of number 59.
I literally ran over to left field when I saw Miggy step in.
I was fidgeting with anticipation. I felt like another one would come my way at any time. Could I really pull off two just a few minutes apart?
As you could tell, I was in left center. Straight away left field was pretty full, but that's where most of the balls were going. It was a tough decision to make, but I stayed where my Ballhawk instincts directed me, instead of following where all the balls were landing like the typical fan. I really mean that. I constantly check my surroundings, and I can tell what's good and what is not that favorable without even thinking about it. I almost don't notice my decision making.
Here's something that happened for just the first time this year:
Ah ha! And if you can't see, there WAS space to squeeze in the front row on my own without asking anyone to move.
I was shocked how hesitant I was to set up my marker and rubber band. Looking back, I think I was starting to develop a soft spot for this place, and didn't want to get into any trouble that could hurt me in the long term.
After mustering the courage, I went over and got into position. I saw this guy peering down the gap from left center:
I knew I'd be able to raise my glove back up, ball or not, and run away before he got to me, so I stopped being SO worried.
Just then, a young kid comes up to me after seeing I had a Trick. He was pudgy, nerdy, and extremely dorky. He couldn't have been older than 13.
"Oh man, I wouldn't so that. These guards are watching like hawks".
So what did I do?
I LISTENED TO HIM.
"You really think so?"
"They definitely don't like it, that much I know."
His words caused me to think about it one more time. I didn't have anything pushing me into desperation to go for it, and I felt like there were too many things that could go wrong. Say anything you want, because I deserve to be razzed for this one. Looking back, I can't even fathom why I would have this train of thought.
In the midst of my hemming and hawing, a guy named Rick came over with a cup trick and snatched it up. I remember him from my first Glove Trick disaster in 2011. Little did I know he's THE man at the Cell, having gathered 531 there since he's started logging them on MGB.
That made me mad. What had gotten into me? I GAVE that one away. Time for redemption.
Right after I regained focus, I saw a ball land in the Sox bullpen. I hurried over there, only to find a small fortune of baseballs waiting for me.
Again, the pudgy tween, who was still hovering around me, advised against this. I felt less vulnerable in this spot too; less people surrounding me to draw attention. Not like I needed to rationalize; I wasn't going to let myself take no for an answer on this one.
I quickly got set up. I wanted this to go as quickly as possible so I would at least get a chance to snatch one before someone made their way over to me to tell me to stop. The one directly below me was first, then I would get more daring and move around for the other two once successful.
Well, I didn't even get the first one. Why?
THAT'S MY SHARPIE. I didn't stick it in the right spot and it simply fell out. I always have a backup, but before I could dig through my bag to get it, an usher informed me it's not allowed. My life is a joke.
Left field wasn't working for me today, to say the least. I stopped by right field again for a few hitters before moving towards the Tigers' dugout.
Dave Davison was here, and pulled his cup out to go for one in the visitor's pen.
The Tigers dugout yielded me nothing. It was two people deep in some places, and they had a decent amount of traveling fans. My Yankee hat didn't stand a chance.
I took a spot here to grab another one once warm ups were done. Ever since ball number 55 from Cody Ransom, I insist I'll get another one this way eventually.
No luck. Jeff Keppinger, as well (who I imagine to be) the yoga instructor dressed in all black both ignored me.
My game plan was to be by the dugouts the entire game. If I happened to get a game used from each side, anything I did afterwards was absolutely fine. I didn't need a Plan B.
Specifically here at the Cell, this is usually the moment when I have to make a tough decision. Today I opted for the dugout to survey and secure my seat for third out balls. My second option would have been to go behind the Sox bullpen:
As you can see, it was riddled with kids. Good choice so far, but the Tiger's pen looked just a little more promising:
However, still a few kids above the Hyundai ad. Overall, I made the right choice.
It amazes me how easy it is to get a good seat in this place.
Obligatory close ups of players:
Miggy wasn't playing in this game. That was a shame, but Prince was cool to see too. The idea danced in my head about maybe sitting in the outfield to wait for one of his homers once I grabbed a third out ball; especially if I got my hands on two. That plan went out the window when he used all his power on a first inning blast that gave the Tigers a 3-0 lead.
Stupid umpires always getting in the way....
But I wasn't that disappointed. I would have been sitting behind the bullpen, probably half way up the section on the right side of that Athletico ad. The ball landed in the aisle about three sections closer to center field. Way too far off to even try to tell myself I was on to something.
Unlike July 2nd, I was now extremely comfortable with my surroundings. Instead of having only half the chances, I would experiment with switching to the opposite side of the field at the end of a half inning. Here's the seat I took during the bottom half:
The way these dugouts are designed, there is exactly one open walkway lined up perfectly with the aisle. I try to get directly behind this spot every time in order to be seen first. I nailed it on the Tiger's side, but the Sox side is just overall more difficult. But can I really complain?
I learned a lot from the few innings I spent down there. For example, unless Alexei Ramirez has a day off, I'll never be behind the home dugout ever again. He's always the one who ends up with the ball, and typically gives it to kids. A challenge I was up for, but today he changed my mind. None of the kids caught on in the first inning, and I was basically the only person he could throw the ball to. Not to mention, the only one asking for it AND having a glove. Instead of helping me out, he rolls the ball to the ball girl. Are you kidding me?
There's two options how an inning can end - a strikeout or a ball that's hit into play. Statistics suggest it's eight times more likely that a fielder would get it than the catcher. The catcher doesn't enter through my magic walkway; he uses the only other entrance by the home plate side of the dugout. Anibal Sanchez picked all the wrong guys to strike guys out. The third out of the first THREE innings were K's. Alex Avila had the ball, and tossed it to people two sections to my left. I had perfect positioning, but was still helpless.
In addition to bad luck, I got extremely frustrated with the biggest double standard I face at the ballpark. Just for this one game, the younger kids that ran down by the visitors side were a little out of line. They would try to push me aside, sneak under me, squeeze me out of the first row, all while throwing a decent amount of elbows in the process. But if I even accidentally even partially interfered with these kids, in any way, without even making physical contact, someone would undoubtedly be all over me.
I'm not saying kids can't do that. It's okay if little guys and girls get better position. Sometimes I even let them have it just to be sure. But this group of kids pissed me off.
Those last three paragraphs, along with my desire to chase a gamer, caused me to take an outfield detour. Should I try for Prince's second of the night? Not only was there a low selection of seats, but there was virtually no running room. If it was emptier, I'd be able to cover two aisles PLUS the sections on each side of me.
So that's dead in the water. I had no plan, so I just chilled out. Even with the frustrating kids, lack of plan, and only one ball, I was still having fun.
I was extra happy because I now firmly believed I was okay going to games by myself. In fact, being alone was fantastic. Not much went my way, yet I was still having the time of my life doing the activity I love most.
I thought I should at least play right handed hitters and their home run possibilities. There was even less choices in left field, but if you don't have faith, do you really have anything?
Then something happened. Unfortunately, it's been so long since this game that the video was removed from MLB.com. I hope this will suffice:
As soon as Hunter made contact, I felt like it was BP. I knew immediately it was coming my way. For a brief second, I felt like it was all mine, with very little doubt about it. It looked THAT good coming off the bat.
After a few more seconds in the air, I could tell it was way to my right. My excitement dwindled, but didn't disappear. I picked up my bag and moved to the landing spot depth wise; that's what I'm doing in the picture. I took the screenshot right as it landed. Not many people were prepared, and I was already in the best place I could be along that fence.
I forget who I yelled out to, but whenever a Sox reliever turned around, I begged him to toss it to me. Why would they want it, anyway? No matter how many people asked, they completely ignored that ball's existence. No one even walked near it. I knew what they were doing, so I stayed in the aisle as long as I could before being told to take a seat. I was almost in pain - it was RIGHT THERE.
I definitely didn't have the best spot for when they decided to move it. The row right behind the bullpen was packed full, and there wasn't a convenient aisle seat that I could see. I decided just to stay where I was so I wouldn't miss it when they finally retrieved it. I knew what to say, how to ask, and have lots of practice with this. I felt my chances were much better than good.
It remained even during in the middle of the 5th.
Just before the next hitter came up for the Sox, one of the coaches picked it up and walked to the way far side of the pen. I couldn't even see who he gave it to; he was blocked by the rear bullpen wall. All in all, the ball sat there for about 10 minutes. I wasn't too upset about not getting it. It's cool to just be so close to a game home run. This makes two games in a row that I've been near the right place at the right time. Am I developing a true Ballahawk sense like I mentioned earlier?
Instead of reminiscing, I left immediately to chase more third out balls. I found the best seats I could on each side, based on what I've seen my last two games here.
Alexei always tosses to the outfield side, so I scooted over a few sections:
Like I mentioned before, Miggy was not in the lineup. Whoever had the ball for the Tigers flipped it to him, and he rolled it on top of the dugout to the same aisle every time; a different one than my best spot over here.
I had a lot of energy flowing from that homer in the 5th, so I was kind of wound up. From the 6th to 8th innings, I switched between these seats after every three outs. That's not an exaggeration; I flip flopped six times in the last hour of the game. The best part is that nobody said a word to me. How great is it that I can take advantage of the empty seats like this?
However, I got nothing. I actually stopped trying after the 8th and returned to almost the same seat in the outfield.
I was on a special mission. I have yet to get a real, game used, MLB lineup card. I haven't been consistent in my efforts all the time, but I've definitely asked more than once. I wanted to get away from the clutter of the dugout where all the noise was. Out here, I'd be able to ask someone leaving the bullpen from just three feet away with no chance for them to not hear my polite request.
After the Tigers wrapped up the 6-2 win, I went right down that aisle on the left of that last photo and asked bullpen catcher Mark Salas for the bullpen card.
"We don't have lineup cards out here, man"
You're kidding, right? I swear I've seen them. I thought I saw other Ballhawks get them from out here. And wouldn't one think an MLB team would have more than just the dugout's card?
"Oh wow. Well, do you have anything else cool?"
"Uh, you can have this...?"
I mean, sure. I was disappointed and felt really dumb, but it came from the field. I won't make the same mistake next time.
STATS
- 1 ball at this game
- 27 balls total this season
- 18 consecutive games with a ball
- 59 lifetime balls
- Time Spent at Game: 5 hours, 30 minutes
- Total time spent at games: 88 hours, 10 minutes
- 1 ball X 26,793 fans = 26,793 Competition Factor
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