DanMargarita.com

Mar. 12---After picking up fellow baseball friend and junkie Rick at the airport, we head to Clearwater, where the Phillies are hosting the Astros. I guess if I can’t see the Astros in Kissimmee, I can see them elsewhere.

Just standing in the ticket line, I can feel the hot Florida sun singing the flesh on the back of my neck. It seems like that’s part of what you go to Florida for, but I’m practical enough to know I must put some sun block on; the strong stuff, too. As it turns out our seats are on the third base side and in the shade, so the sun block seems unnecessary.

The ballpark is a nice new facility with a thatched-roof tiki bar in left field and a kids playground in the corner nearby. The Astros take a 6-0 lead and while I stand behind at the left field concession stand waiting to buy an ice cream sandwich, the guy in front of me attempts to purchase two beers with a credit card. This seems to be a tough task for the elderly woman behind the counter. As I watch her slide the card through the machine repeatedly, the Phillies erupt for a four-run rally, including a three-run homer. It sure sounded exciting, judging by the cheers.

Late in the game, we notice an increasing swarm of small black flies. It’s a minor nuisance but better than New England rain or snow. As we leave the ballpark, I notice that Rick, who did not put on sunblock, has gotten a burn, despite sitting in the shade. Go figure.

The only night game is the Sox-Yankees game in Ft. Myers. That’s too far of a drive, especially if you don’t already have tickets. Sox tickets in ST are tough enough, but a Sox-Yanks game is nearly impossible to get. So we wind up at a sports bar near the Yankees ST ballpark. It’s a grungy place, but they have a NESN feed of the game.

Mar. 13---The day game we opt for is the Blue Jays-Red Sox game at Dunedin. Seeing the Sox on the road, even in spring training, is a little easier than trying to get tickets for a home game…but not much. The traveling Sox circus is apparent early, when parking fees spike up to $10 and vendors hawk Red Sox, not Blue Jay gear outside the ballpark. Worse yet are the numerous scalpers who trying to sell $15 tickets for $30 to $40.

At least half of the crowd seems to made up of Red Sox fans, if not more. In the front row a kid wearing a Derek Jeter jersey gets 2-3 foul balls tossed over from coaches and umpires. The kid could be Tiny Tim from Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” and it wouldn’t save him from the merciless booing of Sox fans for wearing a Jeter shirt. The Sox lose 1-0 on an error by Wily Mo Pena.

We have two choices for a night game. We can try to get tickets to the Yankee game in Tampa, which we’re close to, or we can try Kissimmee which is a two hour drive, but probably an easier ticket. Since it’s a better venue, we decide to try the latter. We don’t take into account rush hour traffic so we get there a bit late. I also don’t take into account that I haven’t refueled with gas yet. It only occurs to me to look at the gas gauge as I pass a gas station and that’s when I notice it’s on empty. Since Route 192 is like Rt. 1 on steroids, it seems like a matter of time before I would find another gas station. Yet, as I pass restaurants, banks, motels and souvenir stores, my gas gauge mocks me, seemingly knowing that it’s miles to the next chance to fill up.

We get to the park and as we pull into the parking lot, I see for the second time on my trip that there are few cars. We find out that despite the local paper listing the game as being at Kissimmee, they’re actually playing the Braves at Disney World. This is my second time at Kissimmee and the second time there’s been no game there.

Disney World isn’t that far away, but by the time we get there and park, it’s the fourth inning but our standing room only tickets allow us to stand behind home plate for a pretty good view. Late in the game we take some open seats.

Mar. 14---The day game is again at Dunedin, but this time the Blue Jays are playing the Indians and ticket scalpers are asking just a few dollars over face value. What a difference a day makes. We ask for tickets in the shade, but it’s irrelevant since it is overcast.

We head to Sarasota for the night game. Next to us is a middle-aged couple and in front of us several young men. With each passing drink, the wife gets more flirtatious with the young guys in front of her. The husband says nothing, but we detect steam emanating from his ears.

Pitching for the Cincinnati is former Red Sox starter Bronson Arroyo. He gives up just two hits and no runs over five innings. It makes Wily Mo Pena’s game-losing error on Monday all the more glaring.

One of the challenges of Spring Training is finding a cheap motel at night. On this Wednesday, we succeed in doing just that. The Budget Inn didn’t find room in their budget for things such as paint, spackle or a dead bolt lock on my door. Having seen enough horror movies, I try the old “chair against the door” technique. This seems prudent after having chatted in the lobby with another guy checking in who was dressed in all black, had enormous bags under his eyes and most importantly, had filed his teeth into sharp points. I’m not making that up.

Mar. 15---A good breakfast makes us late getting to Kissimmee. This is my third attempt to see a game there, and I warn my friends that if there is no game again, I may take hostages. There is a game, and since we’re late, a guy working at the gate hands us some free standing room tickets which kind of makes up for being 0 for 2 here.

It’s a long drive to Port St. Lucie where the Mets are hosting the Red Sox at night. As noted earlier, Sox fans are everywhere and the only seats available are bleacher tickets. That would’ve been nice but there is no room in the bleachers, and we are forced to stand behind the grassy area in right field in foul territory. It’s without a doubt the furthest away from home plate I’ve ever been at a Spring Training game.

As I lean against the fence, I feel a tap on the shoulder. Noticing my Stoneham jacket is a Port St. Lucie police officer.

“Excuse me, where’d you get that jacket?” he says, before realizing that he recognizes me.
“Hey, I know you. Your dad is a teacher…”

I tell him who I am and he explains that he is Andy McPherson, a Stoneham High graduate, Class of 1986 and has been working for the PSLPD for 12 years. It seems that you can’t ever get away from the Red Sox or Stoneham.

Mar. 16---Once again, we follow the Sox on the road. This time it’s at Vero Beach, the oldest continuous ballpark and my favorite venue in Florida. The Dodgers have been at Vero since 1949 and in this stadium since 1953. So many legends have trained here including Jackie Robinson, Pee Wee Reese, Roy Campanella and Sandy Koufax. Oh, and Tommy Lasorda trained here.

What’s special about it is that the stands are about 16 rows high and there are no dugouts, just benches with no covering. It’s like watching a high school game. Sitting down the right field line, we listen to a Yankees fan in front of us gloat as Sox newcomer Daisuke Matsuzaka gives up a first-pitch double.

“Good jawb, Epstein! Payin’ awl that money!” he says in New York-speak.

Later he gets silenced by a Jason Varitek three-run homer.

In the third inning a blazing sun gets obscured by clouds, which eventually turn into spotty rain drops. Then the rain gets a little heavier, forcing some people to leave while others use the free seat cushion that all fans received upon entering, as a shield. The rain gets perpetually stronger and then the skies open up to deliver a rain of Biblical proportions. The driving rain and ensuing lightening prompts the umpires to call the game and send the fans for cover. The problem is that as I noted earlier, it’s an old and small ballpark so there is little cover to be had.

People cram into the small concession area that is covered and others make it to the rest rooms, but most people are forced to stay in the open. Some take discarded vendor’s cardboard boxes and flatten them for cover. Heading for your car is not an option for some people because everyone scattered so fast, that they lost touch with whomever they were with, which might include the person with the car keys. Eventually I get a spot in the souvenir store and buy a Dodger’s glass out of guilt for taking up space there. The rain lets up eventually and we get to the car, where we can change into dry clothes.

There’s just one night game, so we take a long drive back for a third time to see the Braves at Disney World. As was the case previously, it’s sold out but we get SRO tickets and stand behind home plate. After the game we decide to have a bite at the All Star Café next to the ballpark where we figure to allow traffic to disperse from the parking lot. Our plans are foiled as the they are closed at 10:15 on a Friday night, so we’re forced to sit in traffic for a while.

Hunting for a motel room on a Saturday night near Disney World is a difficult task. If there are rooms available, they seem to be taken by the car that always seems to arrive just ahead of us. We actually pass up one where the night clerk resembles a prison gang leader from a “Law & Order” episode. The clincher is when he reaches through the night window to give the previous customer a remote for his room TV.

Mar. 17---Logistics on this St. Patrick’s Day make the most feasible game yet another trip to see the Braves at Disney World. It’s not that we like the place, but it’s centrally located. It’s a double-decked new building with all the bells and whistles that make Spring Training more of an amusement park than ballpark. Yet, it would’ve been a better place to endure a driving rain storm than Vero Beach.

Since it’s St. Patty’s Day, both teams are wearing green caps and several fans are wearing green felt top hats, much to the annoyance of the people sitting behind them. One man has gone all-out with the leprechaun costume, complete with vest, top hat and attachable red beard. He gladly obliges the many requests to be in photos.

Mar. 18---It’s time to make a rental car switch for my fellow travelers who will continue on after I depart. The week is winding down and I realize that I’ve been in the shade most of the time, so I take the opportunity to sit in the sun at the rental car agency and try to get a tan. One cannot go to Florida and come back more pale than when they left.

The last game of my trip is back at Kissimmee. For once, we actually get seats instead of SRO tickets. They’re on the third base side, but in the shade, making my tanning effort seem prophetic.

Mar. 19---Time to fly home so the boys drop me off at MCO Airport in Orlando. Everyone is advised to get to the airport two hours early these days, but as I discovered, if you get there more than four hours early they won’t check your bag. So, I’m forced to hoist my huge bag of clothes and souvenirs around for a while. Things are quiet at the gate until the arrival of a tour group, the Leominster High Blue Devil Marching Band shows up. That enlivens the place considerably.

The plane arrives at night in Manchester and it’s a shock to the system to wake up in the morning where it’s 73 degrees with green grass and end the day with a foot of snow on the ground. This is tempered by the knowledge that spring, and thus warm weather, are just around the corner…or so you would think.