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

by Paul Brady on


“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.

Road Trip Gear: Seven Must-Have Essentials

by Paul Brady on


When you’ve got a road trip vehicle to fill with stuff, packing becomes a headache. A corollary the old saw that work expands to fill the available time, the stuff you bring seems to expand to fill the available cargo space. Every time I check into a motel, I seem to have more junk to haul to my room.

But there’s a small batch of necessities I keep coming back to day in and day out. They’re my seven trip essentials, and I’d recommend them to anyone hitting the road this summer, whether you’re going across the country or just on a weekend camping trip.

Traveling the American Road – Road Trip Gear


Smartphone: The number one gadget to make your life easier. No matter the carrier or data plan, a smartphone will get you turn-by-turn navigation, make mobile hotel bookings, stream music, take photos and connect with friends back home. It’s an absolute essential.

Portable wifi: The folks at Virgin Mobile loaned me an MC760, a 3G USB air card that gets my laptop online anywhere there’s a cell signal. The connection isn’t the fastest, but it will let you upload blog posts about the final shuttle launch from inside your tent in Titusville–or anywhere else you can’t find wifi.

Rain gear: File this one under “only because I have the space.” Gear maker Arc’teryx loaned me the Beta AR, a high-end shell that I’ve only used once, when a downpour in Orlando dropped three inches of rain in three hours. If only I’d had the waterproof pants to go with.

Laptop: I packed my personal MacBook Air on this trip, and I use it much more often than my work-issued machine that weighs twice as much. So far, it’s held up to my abuse: It’s even survived crashing into the pavement in Detroit, with only minor battle wounds.

Sunscreen: I’ve been on multiple beaches this trip, and of course walking the streets of cities puts you out in the sun. Spray-on sunscreen is dead easy to apply and isn’t greasy. I keep it in a cup holder for easy access.

Tents and sleeping bags: Whether you’re camping out or just crashing on a friend’s floor, packing your own bedding can be a life-saver. You never know when plans will change: As long as you have the trunk space, better to pack your own campground-ready hotel.

Something fun: I brought along a parafoil kite, which has no rods and therefore packs down into a tiny stuff sack. It’s great on the beach, fun in a park, even a conversation starter if you pull it out at a roadside rest stop. It’s fun, and isn’t that what road trips are supposed to be?

Six Driving Tips from a Summer Spent on the American Road

by Paul Brady on


This summer, I’ve driven more than 5,000 miles, from the Great Lakes to New England to Florida and beyond. Operating my car for more than 150 hours in about six weeks doesn’t make me a professional driver, but it certainly has exposed me to heaps of stupidity on America’s highways, interstates and surface roads. With my summer’s experience, I respectfully submit the best six ways you can be a better driver by this evening’s commute.

Keep an open mind: Driving is a lot like Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegon: Everyone thinks they’re above average behind the wheel. Sadly, the real world doesn’t work like radio, and statistically half of people are worse than average drivers. As Tom Vanderbilt points out in his phenomenal book Traffic, it’s not really anyone’s fault: psychology, society and plain old habit conspire to make driving one of the most difficult undertakings of our daily lives, even if it seems natural. Admitting that you may not be the world’s best driver paves the way to the second most important thing you can do…

Pay attention: A great number of car crashes could be avoided if drivers were simply paying attention. It’s not easy! Radio, cup holders, cell phones, iPods, kids, pets and navigation gizmos all vie for our attention in the cockpit. But good drivers banish distraction and watch the road–in front of them, beside them and behind them. It takes more mental energy and you’ll feel a little silly constantly checking your surroundings but at least you won’t be reading the newspaper behind the wheel. (I’ve seen it happen.)

Cruise carefully: The thing about cruise control is that it doesn’t actually drive the car for you: It’s up to the operator to actually slow and steer the vehicle. But that’s changing with adaptive cruise control, a feature I have in the Explorer that Ford’s loaned me this summer. (Other carmakers are starting to add the feature, too.) Rather than simply plow ahead at a constant speed, this new cruise system adjusts the throttle and brakes to keep a minimum distance between my vehicle and the one in front of me. Safer, yes, but still not autopilot.

Respect truckers: The idea that truckers are out to crush all four-wheeled cars is as outmoded as tail fins. But pros in big rigs have, by virtue of their size, a harder time accelerating and braking than those of us in passenger cars, meaning it often feels threatening to be around fully loaded trucks. By giving these drivers a wider berth, you’ll make their day and your day a little bit easier–not to mention safer.

Press the pedals: In an attempt to drive more safely, drivers often don’t push their machines anywhere near their mechanical limits. Driving on a race track earlier this summer gave me a better appreciation for my vehicle’s capabilities. Defensive driving or race training courses can help train you to trust your car to do its job at high speeds, under stressful driving conditions–leaving you to think and react rather than scream in terror.

Don’t drink and drive: This advice sounds obvious, but more than 10,000 people were killed in accidents involving alcohol in 2009. Driving drunk is wildly dangerous–and it’s unnecessary. Think a cab ride home at the end of the night is too expensive? How much are court costs, lost employment and possibly much worse? In one case, more than $5,000.

Folly Beach, South Carolina: The Country’s Greatest Fourth of July

by Paul Brady on


This most recent Fourth of July, on a beach in South Carolina, a guy named Freddie handed me a beer after I took his photo in front of his American flag. He’d just done his best Iwo Jima pose, and as I tapped his email address into my phone, promising to send him the pictures very soon, he insisted I take a turn hoisting the stars and stripes. Road trip tip: Do whatever a beer-toting, banner-flying patriot asks on Independence Day and you’ll be handsomely rewarded.

Two months ago, I couldn’t have guessed where Folly Beach might be. Now, I’m singing its praises to anyone who will listen. I never thought I’d be planning my first trip to South Carolina, but after a short stay in Folly, I’m already thinking about my second.

Traveling the American Road – Folly Beach Fourth of July


The stay: I was staying at the Tides at Folly Beach, a converted Holiday Inn that enjoys an enviable position on the sand, right next to the fishing pier at the end of Center Street. Balconies look over the water. The beachfront bar bustles with activity as the sun goes down–a fantastic live act was jamming on July 4, and other combos are frequently on stage.

The crowd: These people are here to have a good time. That doesn’t mean getting sloppy drunk–though there’s some of that!–but rather that the crowds at Folly have a vacation mindset. Watches aren’t necessary, and what kind of appointment would you have anyway? Rita’s, an outstanding restaurant across the street from Tides, serves food all day, with the bar open until late. When that closes, head to Surf Bar, a pitch-perfectly themed spot just off Center Street that goes even later.

The vibe: On a scale of one to comatose, Folly is laid back, a step shy of vegetative, even after the morning’s hangover has worn off. No shirt? Not a problem. Barefoot treks to the breakfast food truck? Sure. Drinking a beer on the beach? Just keep it in a plastic cup. Riding motorcycles without helmets? Wait, how do you do it where you’re from?

The beach: It’s enormous, particularly at low tide. On what has to be one of the busiest weekends of the year, I had no problem finding a patch of sand not just for relaxing but for frisbee tossing. The one knock could be that the water approaches bathtub temperatures, but that’s actually a plus if you plan to spend all day swimming. (You should plan to spend all day swimming.)

The show: The night of July 4, I grabbed a bunch of sparklers and headed for the beach, where explosives experts were setting up the night’s show. The casualness about the fireworks was amazing, as families set up towels and beach chairs right below the blast zone. Before the official show started, we were surprised by random flashes and bangs, as people lit their BYO fireworks.

The departure: Perhaps the best thing about Folly is that it feels so removed from real life–while being just nine miles from Charleston, a city well worth seeing in its own right. That makes the beach accessible but at a small remove, a short drive that lets you mind decompress and switch into surf gear. A couple, fellow hotel guests, told me they could see the bridge back to the mainland from their room. That’s not a good thing, they said. It reminds them that the real world is just a few miles away.

Off the Road: Kayaking Conway, South Carolina

by Paul Brady on


The guy at the marina told us that alligators are usually scared of people, so we probably didn’t have much to worry about after the kayaks were in the river. But the Waccamaw flows with what’s called black water–water turned dark by tannins leeched from cypress trees along the banks–making it all but impossible to see beneath the surface. If there were gators about, we’d only know it once it was too late. The sleepy town of Conway, South Carolina was proving to be much more exciting than I’d expected.

Traveling the American Road – Kayaking Conway


A few miles outside Myrtle Beach, Conway is a historic Lowcountry village founded in 1732 that moves about as fast as the slow drain of the Waccamaw. I found it because my friend Rob has family there: They run The Cypress Inn, a Southern Victorian waterfront bed and breakfast that we planned to enjoy for a night. It’s right on the river, with rocking chairs on the porch and an appropriately enormous (and delicious) breakfast.

Conway, a port by virtue of its river connections to the sea, has developed its waterfront into a tourist-friendly walkway, with boardwalks over the Waccamaw, playgrounds and benches, where couples sit to pass the quiet evenings. Live oaks weighed down with Spanish moss lend the town a mysterious air–and some grow in the middle of the road. One guide to the town I picked up at the Inn warns:

Some of our streets split around live oaks and some bend and wind. Drivers should proceed slowly and watch for oncoming traffic, always remembering that when the street narrows to a single lane, the law of Southern courtesy prevails!

The gentility extends to the waterways, many of which are now marked as “blueways,” narrow channels designated for recreation that extend all the way to the North Carolina border. Rob and I took to kayaks–leaky kayaks as it turned out–to paddle the rivers. We got turned around in the forks and bends, but with nothing to do except avoid getting eaten by alligators and water moccasins, our outing was a success. At $30 for the half-day rental, it was one of the best deals of the trip so far.

The area, a farming region since Antebellum times, continues to capitalize on the rural relaxation that’s increasingly popular worldwide. An AgriTourism Passport put together by Clemson University Extension promotes a variety of activities available in the area, including roadside produce stands, you-pick fruit farms, historic landmark plantations, farmers markets, vineyards and museums.

But if you spend the whole trip on eating biscuits and gravy at The Cypress Inn, you’ll have a wonderful time, too. Just remember to paddle off the calories in the Waccamaw.