ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (09-06-18)
It's becoming harder and harder to keep your kids entertained today. Even taking them to a major league baseball game can mean a serious cash outlay, and it'll cost you even more if you bring them back. I read on the internet that if you factor in ticket prices, parking, scorecards, food, drinks and a hat, the average price for a family of four was one million dollars. Here's an affordable alternative: take your son and daughter to a minor league game. I know what you're going to say, Junior is a die-hard Yankee fan and doesn't want to settle for an afternoon with the Batavia Muckdogs. This is a teachable moment, so don't waste it trying to teach them something. Trick your kids by explaining to them that someday soon they'll be seeing that exact same pitcher out there at Yankee Stadium, parking cars in the 153rd Street lot, which is by far the best one.
We went to a Hudson Valley Renegades game at Dutchess Stadium and had a really nice time. At an A-ball game kids run the show, and it's best just to get the hell out of the way. Youngsters can really relate because the players aren't a whole lot older than they are. The shortstop at our game had braces and acne, and looked like he joined the team as a summer job only because it payed slightly more than mowing the neighbor's lawn.
In between innings they sometimes have a contest with some boys and girls from the crowd involving water balloons or super-soakers. "Hey that kid should be careful of his wallet," I cautioned. "I got my wallet wet once and it was a big nightmare. And if he's wearing expensive shoes his mother's going to kill him." "He's wearing sneakers!" My wife said. "Those are the most expensive shoes on the planet these days!" I read that Adidas Pharrell Hu NMD Trails are going for $240 bucks, and you can only get them in left feet. If you're a lousy dancer things should work out fine. For that kind of dough I don't want to ruin my sneakers when I play tennis, so I wear dress shoes that I get from Kohl's for $25 bucks. Plus I get ten dollars in Kohl's Cash that I can redeem if I happen to go to Kohl's again in the next 20 minutes.
We sat in the nosebleed seats- they weren't far away from the field, but we were sitting right next to a kid with a corn dog and he almost hit me in the nose with it. The stadium is small and intimate. So intimate that you could bring a bottle of wine and a book of poetry and share it with the first base coach.
We were were down the third base line, and I reminded my wife to look alive when a left-handed batter comes up, in case a foul ball comes our way. I was going through my instructions on how to catch the ball. "You mean like last time?" She interrupted. There was a little incident in Scranton where a guy hit a foul pop-up that must have soared a hundred feet into the sky. It looked like it was coming our way so I prepared myself mentally, physically and spiritually to make the catch. I didn't want some little brat to elbow me out of the way and snatch it- he's only going to grow up to be my age anyway, so what's the point of letting him catch it just because he's a kid? The ball was still in the air, so I did some breathing exercises, ate two Clif Bars, recited the prayer of the Apostles' Creed and did some readings from the Torah just to be on the safe side. Then I held my hands aloft as the ball drifted gently into my hands. Unfortunately it had so much English on it that even I, who scored a 590 on the verbal section of my SAT, could not make heads nor tails of it. It caromed out of my hands, hit me in the face, knocked my sunglasses off and bounced under my wife's foot, to the audible gasps of the crowd, who had paused to watch the drama. Without implying that she knew me in any way, my wife picked up the elusive orb and handed it to me, whereupon I handed the ball to the kid with some sage words of advice which I won't repeat here.
Other than that it's a very casual and inviting atmosphere. There are no plaques or retire
d numbers or anything like that. If you hang around the minor leagues long enough to have your number retired, it's unlikely you'd brag about it. There's a scoreboard above left field that they update once in a while, if they remember. The players' photos on the screen looked like their drivers license pictures, except for those not old enough to drive. There were only two umpires, one at home plate, and a first base umpire who had to run around the field anytime somebody got on base. If there was triple play the poor guy would have had to take oxygen in the trainer's room. The best part of the day was that everything is much cheaper here than at the big-league ballpark- I even paid for our hamburgers with Kohl's Cash.
It's becoming harder and harder to keep your kids entertained today. Even taking them to a major league baseball game can mean a serious cash outlay, and it'll cost you even more if you bring them back. I read on the internet that if you factor in ticket prices, parking, scorecards, food, drinks and a hat, the average price for a family of four was one million dollars. Here's an affordable alternative: take your son and daughter to a minor league game. I know what you're going to say, Junior is a die-hard Yankee fan and doesn't want to settle for an afternoon with the Batavia Muckdogs. This is a teachable moment, so don't waste it trying to teach them something. Trick your kids by explaining to them that someday soon they'll be seeing that exact same pitcher out there at Yankee Stadium, parking cars in the 153rd Street lot, which is by far the best one.
We went to a Hudson Valley Renegades game at Dutchess Stadium and had a really nice time. At an A-ball game kids run the show, and it's best just to get the hell out of the way. Youngsters can really relate because the players aren't a whole lot older than they are. The shortstop at our game had braces and acne, and looked like he joined the team as a summer job only because it payed slightly more than mowing the neighbor's lawn.
In between innings they sometimes have a contest with some boys and girls from the crowd involving water balloons or super-soakers. "Hey that kid should be careful of his wallet," I cautioned. "I got my wallet wet once and it was a big nightmare. And if he's wearing expensive shoes his mother's going to kill him." "He's wearing sneakers!" My wife said. "Those are the most expensive shoes on the planet these days!" I read that Adidas Pharrell Hu NMD Trails are going for $240 bucks, and you can only get them in left feet. If you're a lousy dancer things should work out fine. For that kind of dough I don't want to ruin my sneakers when I play tennis, so I wear dress shoes that I get from Kohl's for $25 bucks. Plus I get ten dollars in Kohl's Cash that I can redeem if I happen to go to Kohl's again in the next 20 minutes.
We sat in the nosebleed seats- they weren't far away from the field, but we were sitting right next to a kid with a corn dog and he almost hit me in the nose with it. The stadium is small and intimate. So intimate that you could bring a bottle of wine and a book of poetry and share it with the first base coach.
We were were down the third base line, and I reminded my wife to look alive when a left-handed batter comes up, in case a foul ball comes our way. I was going through my instructions on how to catch the ball. "You mean like last time?" She interrupted. There was a little incident in Scranton where a guy hit a foul pop-up that must have soared a hundred feet into the sky. It looked like it was coming our way so I prepared myself mentally, physically and spiritually to make the catch. I didn't want some little brat to elbow me out of the way and snatch it- he's only going to grow up to be my age anyway, so what's the point of letting him catch it just because he's a kid? The ball was still in the air, so I did some breathing exercises, ate two Clif Bars, recited the prayer of the Apostles' Creed and did some readings from the Torah just to be on the safe side. Then I held my hands aloft as the ball drifted gently into my hands. Unfortunately it had so much English on it that even I, who scored a 590 on the verbal section of my SAT, could not make heads nor tails of it. It caromed out of my hands, hit me in the face, knocked my sunglasses off and bounced under my wife's foot, to the audible gasps of the crowd, who had paused to watch the drama. Without implying that she knew me in any way, my wife picked up the elusive orb and handed it to me, whereupon I handed the ball to the kid with some sage words of advice which I won't repeat here.
Other than that it's a very casual and inviting atmosphere. There are no plaques or retire
d numbers or anything like that. If you hang around the minor leagues long enough to have your number retired, it's unlikely you'd brag about it. There's a scoreboard above left field that they update once in a while, if they remember. The players' photos on the screen looked like their drivers license pictures, except for those not old enough to drive. There were only two umpires, one at home plate, and a first base umpire who had to run around the field anytime somebody got on base. If there was triple play the poor guy would have had to take oxygen in the trainer's room. The best part of the day was that everything is much cheaper here than at the big-league ballpark- I even paid for our hamburgers with Kohl's Cash.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment