On the Road: The Maine Event in Portland
To see all posts from my September 4, 2015 visit to the Portland Sea Dogs (this is Part Two) click HERE. To see all of the posts from my August/September 2015 trip through New England, click HERE. To see ALL of my “On the Road” posts (going back to 2010), click HERE.
2015 “On the Road” landing page HERE!
“This place smells good and looks good.”
The above sentence is scrawled in my notebook, on one of the pages dedicated to chronicling my evening at Hadlock Field. So, yeah, I was in a pretty good mood during this Friday evening ballgame against the New Britain Rock Cats. (Yes, the same New Britain Rock Cats who had already played their final home game, and who were now in the midst of their last-ever series.)
Even the Trash Monster was smelling pretty good on this idyllic late-summer evening.
Yes, you can actually throw your trash inside the Trash Monster. He is an anthropomorphic garbage can, and his diligent research on my part resulted me in learning that his favorite movie is The Garbage Picking Field Goal Kicking Philadelphia Phenomenon.
I was particularly happy to have run into the Trash Monster, as I ended up missing out on some other key elements of the Sea Dogs’ gameday experience. The “Lobster Toss” between-inning contest occurred when I was at the concession stands with my designated eater, so I was unable to document that grand Portland tradition. Furthermore, I never got to see the “Home Run Lighthouse” emerge from beyond the center field wall, as no Sea Dogs players went deep in the ballgame. Spoiler alert! The Sea Dogs failed to score even a single run.
But life goes on, long after the thrill of blogging about it is gone. After saying goodbye to Trash Monster, I went upstairs to visit the press box.
The view from the radio booth is a particularly good one.
And it’s probably even better once stuffed Slugger no longer blocks the view.
With this as my vantage point, I spent an inning on the radio with Sea Dogs broadcaster Mike Antonellis. That’s Mike on the left, and on the right is….is…I’m sorry, I can’t read my notes. Please forgive me, sir, and tell me your name one more time as it has slipped just beyond memory’s reach.
Update: His name’s Mark!
The path from the press box down to the front office is a treacherous one.
But I didn’t go that route. I took the elevator, under the watchful eye of Slugger.
I was now closer to the ground.
The ballgame was played with grace and alacrity, moving at a jackrabbit clip throughout. After meeting with my designated eater — this will be documented in the next post — it was already the seventh inning. The scoreboard contained nothing but zeroes and the denizens of the visitor’s bullpen were growing restless.
I didn’t get a good photo, but here’s Frank the usher leading the crowd in the requisite between-inning version of “Sweet Caroline.”
Frank, a retired postal worker, used be an usher at Fenway Park. I caught up with him after the game; note that he is singing into a plastic American Idol microphone and that his name tag reads “Neil Diamond.”
Time was running out, and my opportunities to document new stadium vantage points was running out right along with it. With grace and alacrity, moving at a jackrabbit clip, I set my coordinates for the pavilion seats in right field.
I took this photo en route, simply because right angles are not common within seating bowl curvature.
This entire right field section emulates the “Monster Seats” at Fenway Park. Here’s the view from the last row.
To my right was a giant inflatable L.L. Bean boot.
The Rock Cats finally broke through with three runs in the eighth inning. As the bottom of the ninth approached, the score remained 3–0. Slugger tried to rev up the crowd with a skit in which he dressed up as Rocky, which is weird because the mascot of the opposing team is actually named Rocky.
The Sea Dogs bullpen was like, “Whatever, dude. Can’t you just get to the end of this post? It’s, like, November now. It’s time to move on.”
The inimitably-named Forrestt Allday singled to lead off the ninth, but that was followed by a double play and a strikeout.
The game was over, having taken just two hours and one minute to play.
My last act of the game — and the season — was to record my requisite Groundbreaking and Subversive Ballpark Joke of the Day. (And, yes, it was “Bark in the Park Night.” I just didn’t get any good dog photos.)
I’ve got nothing left to write.
— -
benjamin.hill@mlb.com
twitter.com/bensbiz
instagram.com/thebensbiz
