For those of you who have been obsessed with Norway for the last 24 hours, let me break the spell by bringing you back, back, back in time to June 5, the last game I attended at Dodger Stadium.
We played the Braves, and as you can tell by the sidebar, the result wasn't pretty: a 9-3 loss, thanks to a disastrous seven-run seventh inning in which Chad Billingsley, Ramon Troncoso, and and Ronald Belisario all melted down at once. For Billingsley, who had pitched six shutout innings, it was depressing. For Troncoso, who only got one out and gave up 3 ER, it was inexcusable.
Nevertheless, Mrs. Sax and I had a great time at the park, so here are some photos of the evening that I wanted to record for posterity.
First up, we noticed Security getting briefed as we walked into the stadium on the field level, which was a first. I've bemoaned the lack of visible ushers at the Stadium before, but I have to say, at this game, it was noticeable that the ushers were coming down the aisles during inning breaks to scan the crowds and provide some assistance. That's a positive step from what I noticed earlier this year, when they stayed up top at the concourses (if ushers were indeed there at all).
However, I still think there's room for Dodger Stadium security to improve. The ushers' descent to the front of each aisle during inning breaks is a visible reminder of security, but it's also noticeable that there isn't an usher dedicated to each aisle. And worse than that, the beachballs--oh, those cursed beachballs--which bounce around with reckless abandon, blocking views and spilling drinks and keeping people from watching the game: they frolic around the stands unabated nowadays, unlike prior years when ushers would discreetly chase and pop said beachballs. I know I sound like a crusty curmudgeon here, but in our game I also saw a woman in the Baseline Club (on the third base side) get hit in the arm with a screamer foul ball, and she was taken away by medical personnel. It's a good reminder that fans really need to be watching the game, not a beachball. And I wish Dodger Stadium security would get back on that crusade.
And now for my obligatory section immortalizing random people! Congratulations, Luis Olague, 7-year-old Emma Fong, and about-to-be-whipped Howard Halen! (I do hope Dodger Stadium wasn't the last stop of the evening, Howard--and best of luck to you and Liz this weekend on your big day (June 27, right?)!)
Lines for the concessions are still ridiculously long...
...and what's worse, the monitors were showing COMMERCIALS during the middle of an inning (note the 0-1 count with two out, and the fact that the image has nothing to do with the game in play. It's bad enough that these monitors, circa 1980-style tube televisions with faded images, usually run on a five-second delay from play on the field. Now, they don't even show the play itself, making one's time in line even more excruciating.).
Mrs. Sax and I skipped town right after the seventh-inning bludgeoning ended, with the images of the massacre imprinted on the backs of our eyelids. Let's get a win for Mrs. Sax next time.
6 comments:
I never received congratulations on my bachelor party. It's not like it took much if any heroic work to eat a lot of dead cow, consume mass quantities of adult beverages, and light cigars.
Did I ever post a link to the 40th bday thing that Mrs Dusty had done for me on the ribbon board? Can't recall. Mr. C saw it, as he was sitting with us.
After my last few visits, I can agree with Sax that the ushing (ushering?) has improved slightly. Maybe every other row or so has some scrub who wanders down between most innings. These are usually 17 year old girls who are in no way intimidating to would-be rule breakers, nor are they anything but vaguely knowledgeable about the seating chart. Josh, remember where we sat two Fridays ago? When I first got there, this little summer intern girl sent me several sections away from the real seat before I wised up to her ignorance.
And yeah...the beachballs. I haven't seen an usher confiscate one in a couple of seasons now. Whenever they come to me, I either pop them or just put them in the empty chair next to me and if someone tries to get it I glare at them and tell them to watch the game. I'm going to get my ass kicked one day.
Security is very lax when it comes to preventing bro-hugging.
Dusty, I remember seeing the shot. I think you tweeted it.
@Josh S.
They're allowing the handshake-to-half-hug, but chest-bumping will get you a stern warning.
Ideally one would be congratulated on the wedding and prosecuted for the bachelor party.
I'm guessing the congrats on the bachelor party didn't come in from the bride's side.
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