Probably my favorite thing about baseball is the story that can be told.
Being at a live game is one of the most entertaining events one can attend and everybody in the stadium is there for a reason. Last week, my brother Zach and I had both a reason and from it — had a story.
We went on a Minor League Baseball road trip to Buffalo, NY and Erie, PA.
Everything was set up perfectly. I had spent a few hours earlier in the week just scouring websites of various MiLB teams that are close to our home in Youngstown, OH. I first stumbled on Erie, with a game at 6:35 on Friday. Realizing that Buffalo was a mere hour and a half away, I checked the Bisons’ site out of curiosity. Lucky for us, they had a game at 1:05, earlier that afternoon.
It took us just three hours to get to Buffalo, arriving at about noon.
We found easy parking downtown, quickly bought tickets and we’re ready for baseball game No. 1 at Coca Cola Field.
Built in 1988, it seats 18,000 people. The outside is very vintage, like an Ebbets Field. We were told it was meant to blend in with the other buildings of downtown Buffalo — and it really does. It can easily be mistaken for an office complex if you didn’t know any better.
One step inside, though, with one glance at that jumbotron, you’ll know you’re here for baseball. Unfortunately, the San Diego chicken wasn’t there that day. Perhaps more unfortunately, the Coca Cola Field scoreboard was recently unseated as the largest in the Minor Leagues. The Memphis Redbirds now hold that title.
We had two goals before the game started. Zach and I are kind of passed the autograph stage, but there were two people that we really wanted to sign.
Bobby Scales and Wally Backman.
Scales is a legend in his own right. My good friend Marc is a die-hard Cubs fan. Scales was a in the Chicago farm system for many years, but would only crack the North Sider’s line up around September call up time. Anyway, Scales has a large following, for whatever reason, and Marc said getting an autograph from Scales would be a life changing moment. If we got him to sign something, he was going to display it in between his Muhammed Ali and Michael Jordan signatures.
There was Bobby, but he didn’t sign. Not many guys stuck around to sign for us, or the maybe six others waiting. It was kind of like a Major League game when you can get close enough to yell at the players and they acknowledge, yet they usually disregard the opportunity to come over and sign. Truthfully, I don’t blame them. These guys are a step away from the big leagues and they have every right to have a professional approach to the game. That’s how AAA is, anyway. It’s not a promotion-ridden, activity-infested production. It’s as close to the MLB as it gets.
Still, some guys signed as soon as they saw a little kid, or elderly lady, hold up a ball.
Oh, and Wally Backman? No sign of him — until game time.
He didn’t move from that position much coaching third base. And, much to our disappointment, there were no questionable calls for him to argue. If you’ve never seen him blow up on an umpire, YouTube “Wally Backman Home Run Ejection” or anything with his name in it. And, cover your ears, it gets quite vulgar — and hilarious.
“There’s nobody here,” Zach exclaimed.
Actually, there was over 6,000 fans in attendance. Because it is a pretty massive stadium — for minor league standards — it can appear to be empty. In many other lower level fields — it’d be a sellout.
All of us there on the corner of Swan and Washington street on the sun-drenched afternoon were treated to a great game, itself, and quality entertainment.
When the starting lineups were announced and Zach and I penciled it into our scorebooks, I told him to watch out for DeWayne Wise. He was starting in CF for the Scranton Wilkes Barre, I mean Empire State, Yankees. Remember how he preserved Mark Buerhle’s perfect game a few years ago with the White Sox? Well he nearly topped it, minus the implications, with this bring back of a sure-fire Bisons’ home run. Very cool moment when the whole crowd stood up expected a dinger and I, honestly, had a hunch that Wise would go up and grab it.
Along with Wise, both rosters had notable players.
Haha. He’ll be on the Mets roster soon — this week actually.
Now, for the name game.
Again, the Bisons’ in-game production mirrored that of a major league game almost to the T. Which was refreshing, but not as charming.
They roll out three mascots. A pretty good number to keep potentially big crowds entertained — one would think. If Zach wouldn’t have stopped really fast, we wouldn’t have caught up with any of these three Bull-like creatures. The trio only appears during on-field t-shirt tosses, then rushes them back into a holding area. Never do they roam the concourses for pictures, hugs and high fives. If it wasn’t for their visiting in the seating areas, many little kids are bored at games. That was certainly the case in Buffalo.
One guy, however, stood out in the aisles.
As for the game, the Yankees picked up four runs in the fifth inning after the Bisons jumped out to a 3-0 lead after the first three.
Usually around the seventh inning stretch of any game I’m at, anxiety takes over and my few hours of relaxation and baseball is about to come to a close. Reality sets in. This day was different, around that same time of unrest, I felt happiness knowing that another nine inning spectacle was about to come.
Down 7-4 in the bottom of the ninth, Buffalo got one across but couldn’t come from behind completely. The home team fell 7-5.
On to the next one.
Jeryry Uht Park in Erie, PA lacked the big city feel of Coca-Cola Field in Buffalo, yet it still had a pretty cool vibe. It was located in downtown Erie, but we didn’t know we were even close to it, unlike Coca-Cola where it’s visible right off the highway and in many angles of downtown Buffalo.
We entered about a half hour before the game and we were nervous. It was Justin Verlander poster night and we knew we’d be cutting it close because only the first 1,000 people received posters.
In all honesty, we were one of the first people through the gates. And the first 1,000 — didn’t even show up. Plenty of posters were left at the end of the game.
During it, though, was a blast.
Zach and I were selected for an on-field contest. At the end of the first inning, we went on the field for the “Crazy Frog” race. From third base to home plate, we raced another pair of competitors — also Pirate fans! Let me tell you, 90 feet is further than you think, especially when you’re leap frogging somebody. So as we tumbled our way down the line, fans actually cheered for us. To their dismay and ours — we lost.
The process of getting selected by the “Wolfpack” promo team and introduced by the on-field host, it reminded me so much of my summer, last year. As a minor league intern for the Mahoning Valley Scrappers, I was responsible for many of the promotional activities and contests, just like these kids were for more. Whether you’re entertained by the production or not, a lot goes into it and time is limited between innings. I had a lot of respect for those interns and next time you’re at a minor league game, try to understand what all goes into making it work. It probably won’t seem like much — but trust me — it is.
Needless to say, Erie had much more of a homey, intimate and well, minor league feel.
We sat behind home plate, very first row, for much of the game. I though these pictures turned out pretty cool, too.
Except for that big wooded wall in left field. “What an eyesore,” we thought right when we looked up. We thought there was no way that it’s normally like that and a security guard confirmed that it is only temporary for an amazing cause. Jerry hut Park is right next store to Erie’s sports arena that houses arena football, hockey and basketball. Actually, it’s right beyond the Home Depot demonstration. Construction is under way for a 50 million dollar project that will add connected suites that will over look both left field and center court. A very productive and well-thought out idea that I’ll have to check out when it’s finished, next year.
The left field fence stands just 312 feet away from home plate and, sure enough, it was in play.
That hole two panel away from the orange bench wasn’t there before John Murrian stepped to the plate in the bottom of the eighth. It was a two-run shot, part of a four-run inning, that gave Erie the come from behind, 6-2 win.
That’d be it for our marathon day. Zach and I will never forget this trip. It may have been crazy, our mother thought so, but that’s what was great about it. We put life to the side for a day and focused on the great game of baseball. No worries, no cares, no deadline, no hurry.
A few days later, Zach handed the reigns over to my buddy, Andrew. Another day of minor league baseball was ahead for me and my lifelong friend.
Francisco Lindor is their big name — Cleveland’s first-round pick from 2011, No. 8 overall.
I also got the chance to hang out with a staple of Eastwood Field, photographer Jesse Piecuch.
In the afternoon sun, it was the perfect temperature for a game, with a slight breeze. I the shade, it was frigid. To keep even warmer, we migrated throughout Classic Park because we basically had the place to ourselves. Zach thought Buffalo was bad, I thought Erie was worse, but last Wednesday’s Lake County crowd was the slimmest I’ve ever seen. We counted no more than 50 people.
Still, the show went on.
The Captains rallied for four runs in the sixth and led 5-4 going into the bottom of the ninth.
Ahoy, blown save ahead.
The West Michigan White Caps, a Detroit Tigers affiliate, teed off for four runs of their own. The rally was started by Colin Kaline.
I can’t imagine pulling off a pilgrimage like this in any other sport. Basketball? Football? Hockey? No way anybody would hit three different games, of any level, within a 4-day span in those sports. They’re all too similar. Baseball games are unique, their special. Every field is different. Every stadium is different. With the other aforementioned sports, it’s all defined in the exact same matter everywhere you go. The football field is 100 yards long, the basketball hoop is 10 feet tall. Hockey is…always played on ice. Baseball presents its own special calling and only the patient and appreciative can answer the call to the game’s adventures and journeys.