A Long-Awaited Reunion

Wednesday, August 9 I went to Progressive Field to watch the Indians lose in twelve innings to the Colorado Rockies, 3-2.  There wasn’t, to most people, much about the game that was particularly remarkable, I imagine.  It was a well-pitched and played game, we saw a few dingers, a little bit of late inning drama, and that was that.  One game out of a hundred and sixty two.  

However, it was a very big deal and it was very remarkable to me.  You see, the Indians, out of all my collegiate and professional teams that I cheer for, are my favorite, and it would mean more to me if they won it all than it would any other franchise.  My father started taking me to the Old Stadium in the mid-1980s to see terrible teams in an old decrepit stadium, and yet, both that team and stadium were ours.  Of course, we continued going a couple times a year as the team moved into the beautiful new Jacobs Field(I still call it The Jake) to see good teams that played well and were entertaining.  

However, as I moved into the 2000s and into adulthood, the times that I made the trek up to Cleveland(I lived all over Ohio in childhood and have lived in the Columbus area since 1991) dwindled.  Once I had kids and a mortgage, it all disappeared.  August 9th was my first Tribe home game since 2008.  For perspective, Aaron Laffey was that day’s starter, Asdrubal Cabrera was an up-and-coming star, and the team had just officially named the second deck in right field, “Pronkville.”  Upon attending today’s game, three things stood out to me.

The first thing I want to mention is that even as unremarkable as the game was, comparatively speaking, to the massive inventory of Major League Baseball games every year, or even the night before with Yan Gomes and his walk-off homer, is just how magical it was to both myself and my kids, as I stated before.  The act of going to the ballpark, seeing the massive park and expanse of grass.  Seeing the speed of the game in person, even from Section 555, Row T.  Hearing the cheers of the crowd and participating in them, yelling full-throated in appreciation at Trevor Bauer as he left after an excellent performance.  Leaving disappointed but not crushed after Charlie Blackmon sent us home with his home run in the 12th, with the knowledge that there’s a game tomorrow.  These are all fan cliches as it pertains to baseball, and while I’m aware of that, they are all still true.

The second thing I want to mention about today is that I think there’s hope for the future of baseball.  My kids are aged 11 and 9, and they just sat through a twelve inning, four hour baseball game without their phones, without complaint.  Up until this time, I have avoided taking them to sporting events because they aren’t sports fans.  They are into gaming, and haven’t showed much interest.  But, they showed genuine interest at points today and asked questions, which I was more than happy to answer.  If my kids of all kids can go to a game and sit through it, I feel like most kids can.  Not only that, the crowd I noticed in Cleveland that day was very young.  Lots of people 30 and younger.  The Indians have done an outstanding job with The Corner, The District, Kids Land, and a host of amenities to draw in the so-called Millenials, and I think it’s making inroads.  As it pertains to my own kids, though, I was simply happy to spend time with them sharing something I loved as my own father did with me many times.  

There is one more thing I wanted to share, and I am speaking to people that are just like me, because I suspect that there are more people like me than most think.  Perhaps you went to many Tribe games as a kid, followed the team as they went from a laughing stock to one of the class franchises in baseball.  Maybe as you got older, life intervened, you made some good choices and some mistakes, and as time passed, you bought a home (if you qualified or could afford it), had kids, bought what passes for the necessary amenities in today’s Western world….two cars, a couple of HDTVs, a few laptops/phones/screens, in addition to paying for your cable/streaming and basics like electric, gas, water, etc.  Perhaps every year, you looked at the schedule and circled a couple of dates that sounded good for you to make a trip to see your team.  But, inevitably, there was something that came up, usually monetarily, because during summers, kids being home means you have to do more with them and also pay for all three meals per day in addition to paying bills and mortgage at the median American household income or less.  Plus, it’s not like you have one of those handy Monday through Friday, nine to five jobs.  So, you put it off, eventually saying to yourself, “Well, I guess I will find a way to get up there next year,” and before you know it, several years have gone by without you going to a game.

All the while, you sit there and watch as people on message boards and in the media wonder why more fans in this economy don’t go to support the Indians, that maybe the Indians don’t have very loyal or very good fans, and that you are one of those.  Hell, you yourself in your younger days might have participated in those discussions, saying those things.  All of this adds to your own sense of guilt for not feeling like you support the team enough, despite the fact that you own a few items of team gear, watch or listen to the team every night that you are not working, and that by doing that, you are contributing to the items that actually are the most valuable to teams in terms of income nowadays….TV contracts and merchandising.  It doesn’t matter in your mind, you feel wrong for not making a simple trip despite the fact that even for the three cheapest seats for a weekday day game, the total tab for the day including gas, parking, and food, is around $120 even if you buy your own road snacks, and if you live in Cleveland, it’s still going to be over $100 subtracting gas.
I am here to tell you that you are not a bad fan.  Don’t let some jerk in the media or message board, or even one of the players tell you that you don’t care enough, that there aren’t enough of you in the seats, that you and your city don’t support the team enough when there are three professional franchises in a dwindling metropolitan area.  Don’t riddle yourself with guilt or kill yourself financially to try to get there.  If there’s one thing I found out that day, it’s that the baseball will be there waiting for you when you come back, and it will be glorious.