These pictures are all out of order. I really need to get a camera. I took these with my phone and I can only upload them
from my phone to the blog site, and then I type the post from my computer. I'm not quite up to the level of professional writer yet.
My friend Mason and I decided to go to this game between the Saints and the Sioux City Explorers about a week ago. I had never been to their new stadium and I was looking for a baseball experience with a little more excitement than I had seen in the two previous attempts by the floundering millionaires.
I had seen the lights from the highway several times so I knew where it was. We parked (for $5!) and made the quick walk to the C.H.S. Field. I was astonished at how many people were out and about on such an overcast evening. Energy filled the air, and I could hear the crowd in waves of chattering as we approached our destination. It felt like baseball.
We had our tickets scanned off of Mason's phone and we walked in to find our seats. The view from this picture above is what you can get for under $20, better than a fair price for being so close.
The standard nauseating smells of fried foods and stale beer filled my nostrils, I loved it. We sat down and enjoyed a moment of silence for the Orlando massacre followed by a great performance of our National Anthem. The game got under way and before the first inning was over, I saw our team score more runs than I had seen plated in the two Twins games I had been to, combined. It was quite thrilling.
We decided to walk around after the second inning to see what the place had to offer. The Saints had mounted a 5-0 lead so we didn't pay too much attention to the field. We came upon the olde-style carnival speed-pitch game at which several youths were throwing in the high 50's and low 60's. Surely we were older, stronger, and wiser than them so we paid up two dollars each and I took my place to throw.
I wound up and gave it my all. "33!" Said the man with no friends and a studio apartment in a bad part of town. "...fuck you say!?" Said the young man with a great arm and charming demeanor. Surely he was reading the information incorrectly. I wound up again and let it go and the liar said, "41." And again, "49." Mason did a little better, but we both agreed that we were better than the man suggested. Now confident in our true abilities as Major League pitchers, we moved on.
A view from center field.
I took a picture of her but wasn't bold enough to stop and inquire of her role in the grand scheme of things.
Here's the actual band they had playing instead of the traditional organist. They had a special guest which was pretty cool. I had heard
Har Mar Superstar on The Current a few times, and although he was hard to hear, he really had a good voice. He wasn't the only celebrity in attendance, Andrew Zimmern was also in the crowd but I didn't get to see him.
The lights came on, the opposing team had tied it up 5-5, and we were in the ninth inning. It was just before ten when I said we should probably get going to get home by our curfew. We stopped by the exit to see if anything important would happen. We got to see the manager get ejected for reasons unknown, then turned and walked away.
We made it about 50 feet away from the stadium when we heard the crowd erupt in cheers. The very next batter hit a walk-off home run, and we missed it by about two minutes. We made it home by 10:20 which means we could have stayed a little longer. But it's better to be safe than sorry when it comes to the possibility of going back to prison.
Honorable mention: This is Sister Rosalind. She's been giving free hugs and backrubs for I think, over 20 years at every home game. I asked if she could take a picture with me and she agreed.
It was a fun night. There were a few moments where I wished I was just a normal fella and could have some local beer, but those moments passed. It'll be really nice to be off ISR so I can enjoy a little more time out and about, enjoying what the city has to offer.
