Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Scored some free bleacher tickets to last night’s Cubs game, and here is what I saw:
The new bleachers are fine. From the outside, it’s hard to miss the new, cantilevered concourse running along the perimeter, but this has a classy look that’s well-integrated with the overall Wrigley feel. On the inside, the extra capacity is scarcely noticeable; the park does not feel overcrowded or claustrophobic. The bleacher concourse also provides better access to the seats themselves, as more entryways now provide easy back-and-forth for dogs, beers and the like. They’ve additionally put a Hebrew National stand on the concourse, affording outstanding hotdog access in thirty seconds or less. This ranks with the Internet, alternative fuels research, and the increased popularity of Rachel McAdams as great ideas of recent times. Please note however that the park was probably 2/3 full on this chilly night—despite the attendance game’s claim to the contrary—and your mileage may vary during games played in desirable weather. Caveat Hotdog-eater.
It’s kinda hard to tell how good a pitcher is going when you are 400 feet away. By all written accounts, Sean Marshall was dominant for the Cubs last night, and we were aware even from our windy vantage that he didn’t allow a hit into the fifth, wasn’t walking that many guys, and was striking out quite a few. But it never felt like he was dominating—in fact, I was having trouble getting any kind of feel for the game at all. Being at the park is fun, and again, the night was cold, so much of my energy was focused on staying warm, but games in person tend to be more of a social outing, rather than an intense examination of the Cubs team. Which is what watching games on TV usually is, for me. Probably this means I should get to Wrigley more often, although I probably won’t.
Matt Murton is great. He looks like an emaciated 16-year old, works the strike zone like a pawnshop broker inspecting grandma’s diamond ring that you’re selling for drug money, and was responsible for every Cub run last night, in one form or another. My little cousin is reportedly in love with him. But I saw him first.
The Cubs successfully executed a squeeze play last night. I view the squeeze as kind of a slap in the face to other teams, a way of flamboyantly showing off technical and tactical superiority while at the same time, hopefully, scoring a run. Suffice to say, it’s been quite some time since I can remember the Cubs pulling one off. “Tell me who is to be squeezed, master, AND HE SHALL BE SQUOZEN!”
Ronny Cedeno is officially swinging at the first pitch a mite too often for my tastes. He does not deserve to bat 2nd in the order.
$5 pitchers of beer are nice. Can’t say where I got them, only that it’s one of Cubs bench coach Dick Pole’s usual haunts. I like beer.
The new bleachers are fine. From the outside, it’s hard to miss the new, cantilevered concourse running along the perimeter, but this has a classy look that’s well-integrated with the overall Wrigley feel. On the inside, the extra capacity is scarcely noticeable; the park does not feel overcrowded or claustrophobic. The bleacher concourse also provides better access to the seats themselves, as more entryways now provide easy back-and-forth for dogs, beers and the like. They’ve additionally put a Hebrew National stand on the concourse, affording outstanding hotdog access in thirty seconds or less. This ranks with the Internet, alternative fuels research, and the increased popularity of Rachel McAdams as great ideas of recent times. Please note however that the park was probably 2/3 full on this chilly night—despite the attendance game’s claim to the contrary—and your mileage may vary during games played in desirable weather. Caveat Hotdog-eater.
It’s kinda hard to tell how good a pitcher is going when you are 400 feet away. By all written accounts, Sean Marshall was dominant for the Cubs last night, and we were aware even from our windy vantage that he didn’t allow a hit into the fifth, wasn’t walking that many guys, and was striking out quite a few. But it never felt like he was dominating—in fact, I was having trouble getting any kind of feel for the game at all. Being at the park is fun, and again, the night was cold, so much of my energy was focused on staying warm, but games in person tend to be more of a social outing, rather than an intense examination of the Cubs team. Which is what watching games on TV usually is, for me. Probably this means I should get to Wrigley more often, although I probably won’t.
Matt Murton is great. He looks like an emaciated 16-year old, works the strike zone like a pawnshop broker inspecting grandma’s diamond ring that you’re selling for drug money, and was responsible for every Cub run last night, in one form or another. My little cousin is reportedly in love with him. But I saw him first.
The Cubs successfully executed a squeeze play last night. I view the squeeze as kind of a slap in the face to other teams, a way of flamboyantly showing off technical and tactical superiority while at the same time, hopefully, scoring a run. Suffice to say, it’s been quite some time since I can remember the Cubs pulling one off. “Tell me who is to be squeezed, master, AND HE SHALL BE SQUOZEN!”
Ronny Cedeno is officially swinging at the first pitch a mite too often for my tastes. He does not deserve to bat 2nd in the order.
$5 pitchers of beer are nice. Can’t say where I got them, only that it’s one of Cubs bench coach Dick Pole’s usual haunts. I like beer.
