Mascots, Rain Delays, and Drunks...Oh My!

America’s pastime. You can’t beat it.

We went this weekend to a AAA game in Indianapolis to see the hometown Indians face off against the Rochester Red Wings. It was the first time I had been to Victory Field along with my 10 year old son Caleb. We anticipated a good time in watching some of these players that were ready to go to the “show” as well as some that had already been in the pros and may have been working out injury issues or working out performance issues to get them back to the bigs.

The game was delayed for the first 15 minutes as lightning and thunder hit all around the stadium like a Pink Floyd light show, but then it cleared up very quickly (gotta love the Midwest weather). We had front row seats in the upper deck almost behind the plate down the first base side. They were good seats, except that we just so luckily were three rows in front of a guy that had way too much to drink even for most alcoholics. He yelled after every pitch and cheered the Indians exuberantly, and even though he wasn’t saying obscenities or being disrespectful, his volume was obnoxious and Caleb kept turning around over and over, not paying attention to the game. I became worried that this would be what he was going to take away from the game.

By the fourth inning, I had enough. It was obvious no one was going to say anything—including the usher—so I spotted below us in the lower level almost an entire row that was empty. I figured that if they hadn’t taken the seats by now, they weren’t going to. We went down there and had even better seats than before, and the sun started to beam down with the humidity that we all love so much.

As we watched Rowdie the—umm, I think it was a dog??---run around the bases in promotional events, I remembered all of the great ball games I had been to with the San Diego Chicken, Philly Fanatic, and others that made the game of baseball so much more than balls and strikes and what to do on a 3-2 pitch with two runners in scoring position with less than two outs. It was a game that was just a break from reality, a feeling of being able to relax and just enjoy a sport and event with your family, and with Caleb getting one of the promotional T-shirts thrown to him into the stands, he beamed with a smile and waited for a foul ball to come his way.

He ended up even moving to the second row late in the game waiting for a throw from the dugout by one of the Rochester players to be able to get a ball. It never happened, but I know he’ll never forget this experience, and despite the fact that it went 11 innings, the sun nearly baking us, and the drunk in the stands, I walked out of the “Vic” knowing that this was something that was a great experience for us and I can’t wait to go back. (But only if I have that option of seat hopping!!) 

TAGS: Baseball, Baseball Experiences, Dads, Family Moments, Father Son Events, Fatherhood, Fathers, Indianapolis Indians, Minor League Baseball, Parenthood, Parenting, Parenting Styles, Rochester Red Wings, Sports, Victory Field
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