A Baseball Road Trip
... And a "Hurriquake"!
I’ve been a baseball fan for six-plus decades. Specifically, a Minnesota Twins fan. Since 1961, when the Washington Senators relocated about one-hundred miles north of my boyhood home, the Twins, and baseball more broadly, have been my longstanding pastime.
I cite this to justify three baseball road trips I’ve taken the last three decades. The first trip in 1994 was to watch the Twins play a four-game series at newly opened Jacobs Field in Cleveland. Friend Peter accompanied me on that journey. We flew into Cleveland, squeezing in a side trip to “Fallingwater,” Frank Lloyd Wright’s iconic masterpiece, and a Pittsburgh Pirates game. A memorable get-away, despite four dreadful Twins losses.
Twenty-five years passed before my next baseball excursion. Friend Nick and I blocked off five days in 2019 for stops in Milwaukee, Chicago, Detroit, Cleveland, and Pittsburgh, including a Brewers afternoon game in Milwaukee and the Cubs at Wrigley that evening. With a shared museum interest, we added Carnegie Museum of Art (Pittsburgh) and the Cleveland Art Museum to our itinerary. Overall, a wonderful adventure.
Which brings me to the August 18 - 20 weekend. Friend Eddie lives in Oakland, California but Los Angeles is his hometown. He’s invited me to join him in LA to watch his beloved Dodgers. We found a weekend when the Angels were also in town, and I flew out Friday, midday. The Dodgers began a weekend series that evening against the Miami Marlins, having won eleven straight. Despite our best efforts, the game goes to the visitors: Marlins 11, Dodgers 3.
Unlike previous baseball trips, I’m in the care of a “local,” well familiar with the territory: preferred routes and parking spots, where to find best pre-game beverages and best post-game street tacos. Friday’s skies are all “Dodger blue,” while we grow increasingly aware that a hurricane is headed our way, the first tropical storm to hit LA since 1939.
Saturday was initially envisioned as a non-baseball day. We’d travel to Riverside and explore Chicano art at a museum that opened last summer (the “Cheech”). But the forecast alters our thinking. Both Angels and Dodgers move Sunday’s games to Saturday, creating two day-night doubleheaders. Museum plans are scratched to accommodate attending two games on Saturday.
My return flight had been booked on “the redeye,” leaving Sunday, shortly before midnight. I phone Delta, seeking an earlier departure. The best they can offer is Sunday afternoon, 3:00PM. I rebook enroute to Anaheim for the Angels - Tampa Bay Rays afternoon game. The Angels are mediocre this year, but seeing their star player, Shohei Ohtani, is well worth the price of admission.
After the Angels game, we drive north to Dodger Stadium, joining a sellout crowd for the Dodgers - Marlins evening game. Both home teams prevail in our mixed Saturday doubleheader. We cap off the evening at “Taix”, LA’s oldest French restaurant… terrific food, unpretentious.
Sunday starts at Eddie’s favorite Mexican breakfast restaurant. Intermittent sprinkles. Shortly after noon, we’re pointed toward the airport. Serious rain. My flight is delayed two hours; I’m relieved when it finally takes off. While waiting in the terminal, I experience an earthquake, the epicenter 80 miles northwest, 5.1 on the Richter scale, quickly labeled the “hurriquake”. (All thoughts of the End Times are pushed aside.)
The long flight home provides time to ruminate. Baseball is “relationship kindling”: first, a multigenerational connection with family; eventually, an interest shared with friends. The team, the game, both prompt easy bonding conversation. My mind screens up images of those I’ve attended games with over the decades, easily several hundred.
Baseball by itself is probably not sufficient to sustain a long-term friendship. But then, who knows? I savor ballpark hours spent with Peter, Nick, and Eddie. And when I ask if someone would like to attend a game with me, I’m not focused on a star or a streak. It’s time together. “You’re free? Great… let’s go!”
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I’m pleased to be part of the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative. Here’s the roster: