Out to the Ballgame: A Cultural Tour of Baseball for the Non-Fan


“How long have you guys been sitting down here,” the drunken heckler asked me and my buddy Stephen, around the seventh inning of a Mobile BayBears game at Hank Aaron Stadium. “All game,” I replied.

“So have I said any curse words?” he asked, knowing that he hadn’t, his point being that if some fans didn’t like his good-natured heckling, they could sit somewhere else–and lighten up. This was minor league baseball, he insisted, and it’s all about having a good time. On that point, I agreed.

This summer, I’ve been going to baseball games anywhere I can, from the boring green bleacher seats of Progressive Field in Cleveland to the second row of Grayson Stadium in Savannah, home of the Single-A Sand Gnats. I’ve ticked off five professional games and a handful of minor league engagements. I still haven’t caught a foul ball, but one came pretty close to my section at the BayBears game. At the velocity it was moving, I’m glad it wasn’t any closer.

During the World Cup, it’s a commonly discussed theory that teams take on the stereotypical personality of their nations. The British side is stoic even in defeat, the Germans are elegantly physical and precise, the Korean team plays as an impossibly unified squad, the Argentines and their hair flop around the field. But the same can’t be said for baseball: Is there anything particularly Baltimorean about the way Nick Markakis strokes home runs into Eutaw Street at Camden Yards? What precisely about the bizarre stance of Kevin Youkilis screams Boston? We don’t call Chicago the Ivy City; it just happens that vines cover the outfield wall of Wrigley Field.

Sitting in the stands is nevertheless an opportunity to rub against the culture of a place. Before a game at Fenway Park, a tour guide ruthlessly teased the Yankees, Boston’s arch rivals in much more than simply baseball. Unlike their neighbors in the Five Boroughs, fans don’t have to choose between two ball teams or two hockey squads. All is for the glory of Boston, whether its a win for the Sox or a parade for the Bruins.

Minor league games offer a more intimate experience with a place. In Savannah, a local cheer camp had a monopoly on entertainment between innings. Cheer Savannah‘s program revealed plenty about Georgia, including that dozens of girls’ families signed them up for cheerleading training “run like football camps,” with a mind to “Christian values.” In Montgomery, game-day eats included chicken and biscuits, a Southern specialty made all the more meaningful because the local Double-A club is called the Biscuits. The name was picked from submissions from the public.

I happened to be wearing a Biscuits hat when the heckler in Mobile introduced himself and his friend at the BayBears game. We took a photo together, after I warned him that I probably shouldn’t be seen with him wearing some other team’s colors. “Still Alabama, though,” he reminded me as he threw a thick arm around my shoulders. Evidence of the one baseball constant, no matter the park: Fans love to cheer for the home team, even when they don’t.

Twin United pilots throw opening pitches in Chicago’s crosstown classic

The rivalry between the Cubs and the White Sox is no doubt one of the greatest in the sports community, each teams reflecting the vastly different attitudes and culture between the north and south sides of Chicago. Despite the tension, however, there’s always room for some joviality, and this year, United jumped into the fray by bringing a pair of its identical twin pilots down to U.S. Cellular field to throw the first pitches.

Identical twin pilots you say? Yes indeed. Turns out, the Rayl brothers had parallel careers at United and Continental respectively, and now that the airlines have merged they work for the same company. It’s almost like our resident pilot Kent Wien and his brother Kurt at American Airlines. Only identical. And slightly creepier.

Delta SkyMiles Medallion parking lot coming to Braves’ Turner Field

Delta’s been Atlanta’s hometown airline for decades, and it looks like the bond between the two is getting a little stronger with the start of the 2011 Major League Baseball season. Delta Air Lines and the Atlanta Braves have announced a partnership that will lead to the opening of a new lot at Turner Field. Or, at least a re-branded portion of a lot. The current Green Park Lot — which is located directly across from the main entrance to Turner Field at the corner of Hank Aaron Drive and Ralph D. Abernathy Drive — will have 500 spots converted into dedicated spots for SkyMiles Medallion members. The upside here is the location; this is one of the closest places to park for the game, and should prove a perfect spot for tailgating activities. The downside is that you’ll still be required to pay the normal rate ($12 as of today) for parking.

In our opinion, Delta could’ve cut those who are Gold, Platinum or Diamond a break — possibly a free or discounted spot in return for their loyalty. As it stands, any Medallion member can show up and occupy the spot so long as they bring along their Medallion card, but there doesn’t look to be any price breaks in the cards. Still, it’s a nice (if minor) perk for being loyal to Delta, particularly for Atlanta-based Braves fans, and hopefully those with higher statuses will see a discount in their future. Hint, hint, Delta.

If you’re looking to take advantage, the SkyMiles Medallion Lot will available starting with the Braves scheduled exhibition games at Turner Field on March 29th and 30th. Their home opener against the Philadelphia Phillies is set for 7:35 p.m. ET, Friday, April 8, 2011.

San Francisco World Series victory a total riot on FourSquare

Oh, how the times have changed …

It used to be that fame-whores would look for television cameras at riots. With all the beating and smashing and mayhem around them, these unique individuals would invariably find the news crews and get their 15 minutes.

Not this time around.

When the San Francisco Giants won the World Series, a riot broke out … and the check-ins began. The locals were looking for points. I strongly suspect a handful of people were trying to figure out how to become mayor. Riots began to pop up on social media site FourSquare, and there were even tips to help you figure out where the action was.

The most popular was on Polk Street: “Giants Riot On Polk St!!!” There were 208 check-ins and nine tips, including:

  • “Hide yo kids Hide yo wife”
  • “Swarm= 50 || Super Swarm Badge= 250 || Super Duper Swarm=500 || Epic Swarm=1000 … Can we get all of our swarm badges in one night?”
  • “After you get your super swarm badge remember to go vote”

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[Thanks, @SceneByLaurie, via Gawker, photo by alecdet via yfrog]

Playing Baseball in Greenland


“Hey, batter, batter, batter . . . saa-weeeeng!” doesn’t translate directly, but the Greenlandic word for it is Anaasilluni, meaning to swing or to hit.

When I saw these kids batting around in the schoolyard, I smiled and thought, “Hey, isn’t that cool? They’re playing baseball!”–but actually no, it’s not baseball. The game is called Anaalerooq, or “hit ball” and it’s played all across Greenland. It might look and feel like baseball-here they’re using an aluminum bat and a yellow tennis ball-but the rules are a little different. For one, there are only two bases, or “points”.

I happened upon this outdoor gym class right at the start of the school season in a village so remote it took me three flights, two helicopters and a two-hour boat ride to get there.

When you arrive, Tasiusaq feels like it’s the last village in the world. In fact, it’s not even a village, but rather a “settlement” at the edge of Tasermuit (“small fjord”). A single dirt path runs between two lines of compact wooden homes, all brightly colored and with steep roofs. There were fish drying out on the clotheslines next to the clothes, and a few perky dogs tied up. Beyond that, the world was just bright blue sea and the grey granite pinnacles of a million unnamed mountains. In the far distance, there was a hint of white and the coolness sweeping off the ice cap.

I was told that only 67 people live in Tasiusaq and that 13 of them were students in this bright red schoolhouse. It’s impossible for me to fathom what life is like in such an isolated place, but I do know that the inhabitants of Tasiusaq can’t ever complain about the view. %Gallery-102341%