On Baseball

Note: this is my second new post of the day! Check out the one below it to read about my first impressions of Cristo Rey :).

You learn a lot about yourself through travel, and the same could be said for your baseball team. I mentioned the other night that Megan, Rachel, and I went to the Astros game on Saturday, and it was more than just a fun night with some community members!

I just want to give those who might not know a brief explanation of my love for the great game of baseball. I grew up a Phillies phan, pre-2008 World Series Championship. I loved them when they were terrible, I love them the same now that they’re terrible again. I think I have high blood pressure during baseball season because of them. My roommates tell me that I’m a different person when I watch baseball- I yell and scream, and while there’s famously no crying in baseball, I do it anyway (I cried in Disneyworld of all places when the Giants beat us my junior year of college, and again last year… and sophomore year when the stupid Yankees beat us…).

That said, I feel for the Astros- it, yet again, is not their year. This Saturday night game, however, was a kind of bizarre experience for a few reasons:

11. The Ballpark. First of all, it’s indoors (thank God). What happens if the ball hits the ceiling? That’s just awkward. It is a retractable dome, but who in their right mind would ever open a dome in Texas? There is a giant wall in left field. In order to hit a home run there, you have to aim it perfectly through some weird arches where fans stand to watch the game. If they were allowed that close to the field in Philadelphia, no visiting team would be safe. Also, there is a little random hill past the warning track along the back edge of center field, which also has a flag pole in it- ON the field. What?

22.  They have no fans. It’s honestly just sad. There were 3,000 people in the park TOPS on a SATURDAY NIGHT game. When the jumbotron instructs the fans to “make noise,” the noise level in the stadium does not change, except for the three out of towners, Phils and Reds fans respectively, who know to follow baseball instructions. There are so many giveaways during the game as incentives for fans to go, but they don’t seem to be working. Instead of the Hatfield hot dog toss, we tried to succeed in the Texas tamale toss.

33.  No one is sure what the mascot is. Now, I know I’m one to talk being both a Phils phan (what is the phanatic?) and a proud PC Friar, but still. The team is called the Astros, the park seems to be train-themed, and the mascot in the costume walking around the park is some anonymous brown animal that could be a dog or a bear, but then it has horns, and no one is really sure. What is an Astro? I thought it was space-related since NASA is here, but I left the park more confused than when I came in.

44. The traditions. 7^th inning stretch music = “Deep in the Heart of Texas.” Need I say more? Because when they get a home run there is a train that goes across the aforementioned wall, and a cowboy shoots a loud but fake gun. When the team wins, fireworks go off. INSIDE the dome. Wha?

Now, I know each team has its traditions, but those left us very curious. We did, however, really like the tamale toss and the Astros slogan, “ROOT. ROOT. ROOT.” Houstonians call them the ‘Stros, or at least those who acknowledge their existence. It’s hard to be baseball in the land where football is king, but come ON, Houston, there is more in the world than the Texans!

So, what did I learn about myself and my team at an Astros/Brewers game? Well, if there was any doubt where my allegiances lie, it’s gone. Phorever a Phils Phan. Give me a word I can put a Ph in phront of, and I will. I also learned how aggressive Phillies phans are- there was very little security at the Astros game, and the ushers don’t have to break up fights (phights?). Mostly, I learned how lucky I am to be a Phillies phan, part of a tradition that boos Santa Claus (those were Eagles fans though, a different breed of tortured Philadelphia sports fan), our own pitchers, and almost every umpire in the MLB. We have a beautiful ballpark, and a real pride in our city, whether or not the team is something to be proud of.

Also, side note about nice Texans: the tickets we had were given to the JV house, seats in the 400 level of the stadium. We were a little lost trying to find the escalator to get up to our seats, and when we mentioned to the usher that it was our second day in Houston, he told us, “well then y’all can pick a seat down here.” We were in the 100 level on the third base line for the game! We had the section practically to ourselves, which was sad, but we had great seats- and a perfect view of the out of town scoreboard.