COVID-19 Diaries – Ballparking It

Busch Stadium: It’s Nice to #StayHome

Social Distancing Day 30 (written mostly on Day 29) …

I’ve now gone almost an entire month without human interaction (with the exception of a brief exchange about ketchup with the Schnucks cashier on Day 17).

I’m watching a thunderstorm out my apartment window and thinking back to another stormy day – my trip to Busch Stadium, Ballpark No. 6.

And in the context of a stay-at-home order, when some people feel trapped at home and others miss wherever they consider home to be, this already multilayered homecoming tale takes on extra meaning.

No Place Like Home

I spent a good chunk of the first day of summer 2019 indoors at Ballpark Village waiting out a rainstorm. I didn’t mind. After five straight away games in 2018, I needed home-field advantage, even if it meant a long day of sitting and waiting.

It was my return to the place where I watched my team win a World Series, where I tasted my first ballpark hot dog, the gravesite of where I saw my first MLB game (old Busch) and where I fell in love with baseball.

This particular Friday (June 21) not only marked the return of summer and the return of me to my beloved ballpark but also the return of a Cardinals legend, a hero-turned-villain-turned-hero-again, to the place he once called home.

Albert Pujols spent 11 years in St. Louis, where he won two World Series, played in three, made nine All-Star Game rosters and was named National League MVP three times.

Then he left.

Going into this game, he had played seven and a half seasons for the Angels and hadn’t faced the Cardinals in St. Louis over that span … until June 21, 2019.

It was a series I (like most Cardinals fans) had anticipated for nearly eight years – first out of anger and a desire for revenge, then out of respect and a need for closure.

Ballpark #6

The game itself, a Friday-night matchup with the Los Angeles Angels, was a bit overshadowed by the magnitude of what it meant – a game with such a draw that it brought my brother back on a nearly four-hour, red-eye flight after moving to Oregon.

It was a hot ticket that drew a big crowd with even bigger ovations. And before the game, I had intended to have a big day in St. Louis. The weather said otherwise, so I skipped the Arch and sheltered in place with my family at Ballpark Village for nearly five hours.

While waiting out the thunderstorm, we ate at the Cardinals Nation restaurant and explored the Cardinals Hall of Fame and Museum, where I noticed this quote among an entire wall of quotes at the start of the museum.

“We’ve got the best fans in St. Louis. A lot of people want to come and play in St. Louis because of the way the fans treat us.”
Albert Pujols

The quote from a man who chose to leave provided the perfect backdrop for his own reunion with those fans years later.

After a deep dive into Cardinals history, we ate more food (snacks) at the Budweiser Brew House (but I also had to save room for a hot dog in the ballpark).

After much eating, standing, sitting, waiting and eating again, we bought ponchos, walked to the the stadium and made our way to our seats (section 447, row 9) for what was about to be a magical night.

Roller Coaster of Big Moments

The rain let up about an hour before game time as if it knew we had an important engagement that couldn’t be postponed.

The first time Pujols came out of the dugout to stretch, I didn’t notice him on the field. Neither team had taken batting practice, and the tarp had been removed only minutes earlier. But I heard the roar of the crowd and caught on as it grew louder (or maybe because my brother told me).

It’s one of those snapshots in time I wish I could relive, screaming along with thousands of people who once felt betrayed by their one-time hero who was now simply stretching before a game. The second booming ovation came when the starting lineup was announced.

But the third ovation was the loudest … and brought a roller coaster of emotions.

Unfortunately, Cardinals starting pitcher Michael Wacha had already given up a run and had a man on third when Pujols came up in the first inning.

Despite the less-than-optimal game situation, we (all 48,423 of us) went from annoyed to ecstatic, greeting Pujols with an ovation that was as long as it was loud and resulted in the most touching moment of the game – a hug with Cardinals catcher Yadier Molina.

Pujols flew out to deep center. (I was relieved. If he was going to get a hit, I wanted it to be with no one on.)

Minutes later, Matt Carpenter led off the bottom of the first. Like Pujols’ extended at-bat, spurred by a crowd that wouldn’t stop cheering, Carpenter’s plate appearance was also interrupted. But this time, it wasn’t the crowd.

An ominous message played over the loudspeakers telling everyone to head to the concourse in a monotone (borderline eerie) voice similar to the National Weather Service messages that play on the radio during severe storm warnings.

But it didn’t say what kind of emergency was happening, and we knew it wasn’t weather-related.

Fans started filing toward the concourse in orderly fashion, impressive for how panic-inducing the situation felt. (Unspeakable thoughts like bombs and shootings raced through my head.) Luckily, before it was my row’s turn to leave, the public address announcer told us it was a false alarm, so everyone sat back down.

Game on.

In a matter of minutes, nearly 50,000 people went from frustration with a starting pitcher to pure adoration of a former superstar to thinking our lives might be in danger and back to wanting to win a ballgame again.

Game Highlights

The Cardinals ultimately ended up winning 5-1, but the box score took a back seat to the moments that made up the game. (And no, I wouldn’t look back on this game as fondly if the Cardinals had lost.)

Along with probably 30 minutes worth of Pujols ovations and a game-stopping emergency alarm, a couple other notable things happened (as in I literally made note of them on my phone).

First baseman Paul Goldschmidt hit a foul ball out of the stadium during his second plate appearance. (Think about that … out of the stadium.) He pulled the ball down the third base line and over the upper deck, making him the only player known to have accomplished this feat in the stadium’s 14 seasons.

And Wacha (a career .093 hitter) got a rare single to right field to add to a solid night on the mound, giving up just one run on five hits over six innings of work.

Left fielder Marcell Ozuna was the hero of the night (aside from Pujols obviously) with three hits and three RBIs, including a solo home run.

We showed our appreciation every time Pujols came to the plate, especially after his infield single in his last at-bat of the night and when he subsequently came out for a pinch runner.

That moment may have been the final time I ever see Albert Pujols play in person. And if it is, this time, he left on good terms.

Busch Stadium’s Where My Heart Is

Away games are fun, colorful and new, but after watching the Cardinals exclusively on the road for five straight games, it felt nice to click my Keds together and end up back at Busch Stadium.

There’s something refreshing about cheering along with your own family and 48,000 fans all wearing the same colors, wanting the same thing.

I’m still going to follow that yellow brick road that leads to the other 29 stadiums, but home will always be my happy place.

Inside Yankees’ Minor League Quarantine

Social Distancing Day 20 …

On my 16th day of self-isolation (and what would’ve been Opening Day of Major League Baseball), I talked to a friend who works in the Yankees’ minor league system about his two-week quarantine in Tampa.

(This is the closest thing I have to baseball right now, and the miniature Reese’s I bought on my only grocery store run in the last 20 days aren’t numbing the pain.)

Quarantine Experience

Jon arrived at the Yankees’ spring training complex in Tampa, Florida, on Jan. 27. In his fourth year as an athletic trainer in the Yankees farm system, he was looking forward to kicking off another season.

He has spent the last three summers with the Staten Island Yankees, the Class A short-season affiliate and namesake of the big-league squad.

Official team workouts start in March, but Jon wanted to be there early to help with individual workouts as players trickled in.

Fast forward two months, and the season is in jeopardy. All sporting events have been canceled or postponed, and he just wrapped up a two-week quarantine with the players he was looking forward to helping.

“Once we had the meeting and shut everything down, everybody didn’t know what to do with themselves,” Jon said. “Baseball players are such creatures of habit, so they have their routine. It was like, ‘Can I still throw?’ ‘What can I do?'”

Both the MLB and MiLB shut down spring training and postponed their seasons on March 12. Three days later, baseball had its first confirmed case of COVID-19. That player was a minor leaguer in the Yankees farm system.

“It was weird being the first organization with a confirmed case,” Jon said. “I wouldn’t say there was panic, but it was just uncertain.”

Jon and the rest of the staff and minor league players were told to stay in their hotel rooms (or alternative housing) and leave as infrequently as possible, only when essential.

As part of the medical staff, Jon was there to check on players and help if anyone experienced symptoms. He also helped deliver the meals he was so appreciative of receiving.

“The (Yankees) organization was great. They took great care of our guys and provided everybody with meals during the quarantine period.”

But this new role didn’t take up as much time as the role he typically plays.

“We don’t usually have any days off in March,” he said. “Once we hit the first workout, it’s 6:30 (a.m.) to 5 in the evening. If I wanted to lift, I’d have to lift after work. And then it’s go home, eat and go to bed, and get up and do it again the next day.”

Luckily, the athletic trainer with newfound (forced) free time bought a PlayStation just before the quarantine.

“That was a great investment,” he said. “I’ve absolutely dominated some NHL. I started a career and stuff, although I got drafted by the Red Wings, so that kind of sucks. But we’ll work our way out of that.”

He’s also doing a Bible-in-a-year study and says he has enough space in his room to refine his putting skills and play around with his golf clubs.

“I’ve been doing some hotel workouts, too,” he said. “It’s tough with just doing body-weight stuff. I had been on a really good lifting routine before this all started, so (I’m) just trying to stay in that.”

Jon says players were also given body-weight workouts and other programs to help with their mobility.

Players were released from quarantine on March 26, but international players who were unable to return to their home countries stayed in Tampa.

Jon and a lot of the staff are still around as well.

Although (like many Americans and people around the world) he and the team are trying to make the best of a less-than-ideal situation, he says the waiting game is tough.

“I’m down here to work,” he said. “It’s weird to not be in the complex with these guys and building relationships and hanging out in the dugout. This is just so different than anything I’ve experienced in baseball.”

Thank you to Jon for giving us an inside look. He also shared his recommendations for all of us to stay in shape during this time of staying home.

“Get up and move. Body-weight workouts can be great for overall fitness, and if you’ve got stairs or weight equipment, that is even better. Blocking out 30-45 minutes a day to move and get your heart pumping is a great start to any day.”

So Jon, where do my miniature Reese’s factor in to the equation?

The Opening Day That Wasn’t

Social Distancing Day 16 …

The closest thing I’ve had to human interaction in the last 16 days was the delivery guy dropping off my buffalo wings tonight … so I’m now writing to baseball.

Hey baseball,

It’s been a while. When we said our goodbyes last October, I thought we’d be together again in five months. I thought it was just a pause, a break, a see you next spring.

I’m not saying I wasn’t bitter. We didn’t exactly end on good terms, did we? Ha, no, I was furious. The way we ended it … well, it wasn’t pretty.

Maybe I blamed you too much. Maybe I was too angry. Maybe I moved on a little too quickly. I guess football was right there to pick up the pieces.

But I promise, football could never replace you – not even with the most shocking upsets or improbable comebacks. And maybe you saw how hard I fell for basketball over the winter. But basketball isn’t you.

I mean, come on. We’ve ended on worse terms before, haven’t we? A four-game sweep in the NLCS is still an NLCS appearance.

Today was supposed to be something, one of those days I’d typically count down to in my head and constantly visualize and dream about. I was supposed to bounce out of bed and be distracted and overly excited all day.

There was no bouncing, just unceremoniously rolling over, picking up my laptop and propping myself up to start working from home after sleeping on the couch. (Any way to get a couple extra seconds of sleep, am I right?)

But I guess you’re sheltered in place somewhere, too.

Social isolation is weird, but maybe you’re used to it. You did just spend about a third of the year in hibernation. And I bet you hoarded all the best snacks. I can almost taste the endless nachos, hot dogs, ice cream and mini-doughnuts you’ve probably amassed.

You probably have excellent survival skills as well. You’re like what, 150 years old? You’ve seen it all – the world wars, the Great Depression, the Spanish flu, your own commissioner trying to change everything about you.

Anyway, I hope you’re doing well.

Don’t come back until it’s safe. But when it is, I’ll be waiting.

Love,

A socially isolated baseball fan

P.S. I wish I could say, “We will see you tomorrow night,” but I don’t really know when “tomorrow night” will be, so until then …

Dog Days of March: Ranking Hot Dogs by Memory

Social Distancing Day 9 …

The sports are gone. The good food is gone. I haven’t interacted with a human in nine days. So here we are.

I’ve been to eight ballparks in the past two seasons, and I ate hot dogs at six of them. I’m no food critic, but I do love ballpark hot dogs and ranking things … and I kind of remember how hot dogs taste (like I kind of remember what baseball is like … or you know, human interaction).

#7 (unofficial) Miller Park

The hot dog at the ballpark famous for sausage races may have not lived up to the hype. I was recovering from an unfortunately timed stomach bug at the time, so I didn’t get to eat one myself (thus, the “unofficial” ranking), but from what I hear, Miller Park hot dogs don’t impress.

My brother’s take? “Grossest hot dog I’ve ever eaten in my entire life.”

That seems dramatic, but some people around us shared the same sentiment. The biggest redeeming factor? It was Dollar Dog Day. At Brewers games, maybe you get what you pay for. Let’s hope the everyday dogs are better.

Miller Park’s baked potato game, however, was on point.

Verdict: I don’t know. Maybe eat a baked potato.

#6 Coors Field

In the Mile High City, I went all in on the Denver Dog. This hot dog was not bad. It just wasn’t MY kind of hot dog.

Topped with green chili sauce, jalapenos and what seemed like a mile-high pile of shredded cheddar cheese, the Denver Dog looked delicious, and on paper, it should have been. But I didn’t like all the textures mixed together, especially with the sheer amount of shredded cheese.

It was also incredibly messy to eat … and I may have forgotten what I was doing and touched my eye after eating but before washing my hands. I won’t do that again.

Verdict: Sorry, Rockies, it’s not you. It’s me.

#5 Great American Ball Park

These next two were tough. I thoroughly enjoyed all the hot dogs from here on out, and there wasn’t really anything that set Nos. 4 and 5 apart from each other (I’ve flipped them multiple times.)

It all came down to regretting my decision at Great American Ball Park. I’m not trying to penalize the Reds for offering hot dogs that sound more delicious than the one I chose, but I chose a Nathan’s all-beef frank, and in a weird turn, I wish I would’ve gone with the other basic hot dog option … which means I must’ve not completely loved the one I ate.

(In reality, I wish I would’ve chosen Skyline Chili, but again, I can’t dock Great American Ball Park for having options.)

Verdict: Pretty great American hot dog, but I would change my order next time.

#4 Busch Stadium

I love Busch Stadium hot dogs, and as a Cardinals fan, I’ve eaten a lot of them throughout my life. But the one I ate on the particular night in question wasn’t as great as I know a Busch Stadium hot dog can be.

I had also eaten a giant lunch at Ballpark Village before sitting around for hours waiting out a thunderstorm, so I probably wasn’t the hungriest. I’d still order it again if given the chance and recommend it to anyone asking.

Verdict: Great, but not greatest.

#3 Target Field

I’d consider this one a sleeper. Target Field was fairly generic in my opinion, but the hot dog (even on $1 Wednesday) was anything but.

I respect a hot dog tasty enough to stand on its own without condiments, and this one did just that, packing in a ton of flavor with every bite. And at the low price of $1, it packed in even more value.

The Minnesota Twins don’t skimp when it comes to dollar dogs.

Verdict: The dollar dog at Target Field may be one of the best ways to spend a buck.

#1 (tie) Guaranteed Rate Field, Wrigley Field

Chicago-style hot dog at Guaranteed Rate Field (White Sox)

I get it. Ties are disappointing, but we all root for them when it comes to multiple teams winning a division we have no stake in, so let’s pretend this is that.

I’m putting my anti-Cubs bias aside and handing over the top trophy to both Chicago teams because let’s face it, the town knows its hot dogs.

In most cases, my favorite way to eat a hot dog is plain, on a bun and dipped in ketchup … with the exception of the Chicago dog, which is the real champion here.

(And yes, I realize it’s weird to eat a plain hot dog and dip it in ketchup.)

I can’t crown one single champion. They both exceeded my high expectations, delivering on big flavor from both a hot dog and condiment standpoint.

For those not familiar, Chicago-style hot dogs feature mustard, sport peppers, tomatoes, neon green relish, a dill pickle spear and onions, all on a poppyseed bun. Basically perfection. (I always leave off the onions, though.)

The South Side dog was slightly more beautiful than the North Side one … but only because I loaded up the Wrigley one myself.

Chicago-style hot dog at Wrigley Field (Cubs)

Verdict: As much as it hurts me to say it, Chicago is king when it comes to hot dogs.

Honorable Mention: T-Mobile Park

This one didn’t make the list only because it’s pretty much impossible to rank a fish sandwich against a hot dog. But honestly, if I could have any food right now, I might choose the Ivar Dog (brought to you by a regional fish chain in Washington.)

Maybe I’m just hungry. (I am.) But this fish sandwich is one of the best fish sandwiches I’ve ever eaten in my life. Topped with tartar sauce and coleslaw, this fried cod was also one of the best things I’ve ever eaten at a sporting event.

With a stunning view of Puget Sound just outside the ballpark, a fish dog is the perfect answer to a landlocked stadium’s hot dog. Plus, it’s Lent-friendly if that’s your thing.

Dear Mariners, I want one right now.

Verdict: Does a fried fish sandwich make a good substitute for a hot dog? No. It makes a great one.

Have a good hot dog suggestion? Let me know in the comments.

Not Ballparking It Anytime Soon

I’m usually an expert at being a loner. Some of my favorite pastimes are watching baseball by myself, watching basketball by myself, binge-watching TV shows by myself, going to Taco Bell by myself. I’m usually my favorite company.

But I’ve been working from home, and the last face-to-face conversation I had with a human was the cashier at Target telling me to have a good night … last Tuesday.

Since then, life as we knew it changed. We’re now living in what seems like a sci-fi novel, but it’s not fiction. It’s just science. And that’s the worst part.

I’ve already blown through the giant jar of trail mix I thought would last a few weeks (or at least more than the five days it lasted). I’m apparently not good at rationing … and I don’t even want to calculate how many servings and calories I ate in that short amount of time.

I’ve lost all ability to binge TV shows and now have zero attention span, and my apartment has started to look like a freshman dorm room.

So yeah, these are not exactly the circumstances I thought would bring me back from my hiatus.

In a perfect world (or at least one not in a global pandemic), we’d be in the heart of spring training right now. I would have maybe purchased baseball tickets and plane tickets. Maybe. (Let’s be honest … probably not. Being a procrastinator has its perks.)

But it hasn’t really hit me. I haven’t truly focused a moment on the thought of no baseball. One of my favorite things in the whole entire universe, and I haven’t even really thought about it.

I’m worried about a lot of things – from my grandparents to what’s going to happen if we have to fully quarantine and I run out of lime and jalapeno Ruffles.

And my little, basketball-loving heart wasn’t ready for the NCAA season to end so abruptly, which is probably why I haven’t thought about baseball at all.

My heart breaks for a whole lot of NCAA student-athletes who woke up one day and weren’t competing anymore. It breaks for all those who rely on income from working sporting events. It breaks for all the college seniors who don’t get to spend their final semester on campus. It breaks for all the high schoolers whose musicals and sporting events (and everything else) got canceled.

But I get it. Health and safety come first, and I’m going to do my part to make sure all these people didn’t sacrifice so much for nothing and do my best to help save each other. Thus, social distancing.

Whatever weird version of planet Earth we’re living on right now just offered up an excuse (more like a demand) to stay home and write.

(Plus, it took away all the sports, so maybe it’s my duty to fill the void with some overdue ballpark recaps you never knew you wanted and other random thoughts from yours truly.)

So buckle up for my COVID-19 diaries with a lot of reminiscing and probably a lot of nonsense.

Let’s spread the love and baseball together … just in spirit, though. Not like together, together.