What a weekend. You Seinfeld fans will remember the episode where Jerry was in first class and Elaine was in coach? Or the commercials where first class is so soothing and coach is back between two guffawing clowns (that's my son on the right, laughing and slapping his thigh)?
Welcome to my weekend.
We'll start with Saturday. I had my season ticket package seats. I bought two more in the 400-level for my son and his girlfriend. I figured I'd exchange or upgrade for four together. My wife remains hung over from our trip to Seattle, so she opted out. OK, now I only need three together.
A brief aside to give a plug for Mike Ogunwumi in the ticket office. What a pro. Every time I've been in there, and it has been many, he has shown great patience and he always delivers. Whatever Uncle Stan is paying him, it isn't enough.
Mike can't do much for me Saturday, though. No three together in the 400s. No three together in the 300s. But wait - he finds three together on the club level if I don't mind paying 60 per. What the hell, let's do it.
I'm such an idiot. I figure club level was what they called seats on the same level as those suites. I had no clue there was an actual club and it would allow the likes of me. So I'm like a rube wandering around trying to find section 206 and my son says, "Dad, I think it is in there!" Into the hallowed ground. I showed our tickets to the guard, figuring he'd toss me on my fat ass. Instead, he said welcome and held the door.
Wow. What a place. Tile in the bathrooms. Lots of concession stands and bars. TABLES! LEDGES! What a concept. A Martini bar. Wine tasting (free, though I don't think it is an every night thing). Padded seats. Guards at the doors to keep the riffraff out (except when this riffraff scores a ticket).
Of course, the game sucked royally and the rain delay killed the movie. My son says to me, "LoDuca in left?" Yep. Milledge gets hurt and the night goes downhill from there. But we were at a table eating some very good nachos when the rain hit so we held our ground and rode out the delay in style. Other than some brief period of too much noise when Screech showed up to do something, it was about as good a way as you can wait out some rain.
Not sure if I'm up for 60 a seat every time but I highly recommend trying it at least once. The kid says to me, "You really need to do this with Mom once." She has a bad back and the padded seats will be perfect for her. But I also know her well and she'll be spoiled. She'll bring her book and her needlepoint and spend the entire game at a table by the martini bar. Afterward, I'll get hit with a crooked needlepoint, a bill for $250 and a wife I have to carry back to the car.
Style don't come cheap.
Sunday, I had tickets in section 230. I bought them before the season. 10 bucks each, the best available at the time. What the hell? I AM the great unwashed so I might as well sit with my peeps. My son and I did find it odd that they use a 200 number for those seats. Just a tad misleading.
They actually weren't too bad, if you can live without seeing right field or the scoreboard. Eight-man baseball, my son said. He also wasn't happy he couldn't keep up with the Braves but that's why he spent the big bucks on a fancy phone that gets the Internet. It was interesting seeing balls hit into right and suddenly being directed back to the infield without seeing an actual body.
I'd sit there again, even with a load of loud Orioles fans one section over. Doing that O-R-I-O-L-E-S thing that is nowhere near as effective as Wild Bill or whatever his name is who started it. They left quietly, which is the important thing. Thank you again, Mr. Belliard.
My spoiled ass handled the concrete bathroom floors OK. Easy to get to food joints, too, though the lines were too long for me. I gave the kids some money and sent them to Five Guys fearful that I may never see them again. They only missed two innings. Hell, you could miss innings 2-11 yesterday and not miss a thing.
All in all, a great weekend even with the rain and the horsecrap baseball on display on Saturday. Any time I can spend two days with my kids and their friends and watch ball I'll be OK. And those game-winners never get old, as I said last night. They ease a lot of pain.
My guess is they partied like crazy in the club - cue up the 50 Cent - after that one but I wouldn't know. My pass expired Saturday.