Reds versus Phillies? Whatever. I was just excited to get out of New York City for a day and see some playoff baseball.
This was the scene outside the 3rd base gate at Citizens Bank Park:
The whole street was blocked to traffic, and there was all kinds of stuff that you don’t see during the regular season. Check out the four-part photo below. Starting on the top left and going clockwise, you’re looking at a) a stage for a band, b) a live broadcast by a classic rock radio station, c) inflatable goodness, and d) various TV trucks:
Want to see what else there was?
Free/unlimited ice cream samples courtesy of Turkey Hill:
Given the sad fact that I’m allergic to sugar, I only had two. (But given the fact that I seem to be immune to calories, I still consider myself lucky.)
By the time the gates opened at 3:35pm, this was the crowd waiting to get in:
(Don’t get excited about the early opening time; the first pitch was scheduled for a little after six o’clock.)
Less than a minute after I reached the seats in left-center field, I got Phillies pitcher Jose Contreras to throw me a ball:
Two minutes later, it occurred to me that that was my 300th ball of the season.
This was the view to my right soon after:
The front row was already packed, and the left field seats ended up getting seriously crowded.
I headed over to right field. There was more room to run over there:
The main challenge was battling the sun. You can get an idea of the intense glare in the following panorama photo, taken by a friend and fellow ballhawk named Ryan. The red arrow is pointing to me:
Forty-five minutes into BP, I made a nice play in order to come up with my second ball. I’m not sure who was hitting. It was one of the Reds’ lefties. It was probably Jay Bruce or Joey Votto, but might’ve been Laynce Nix. Anyway, the batter ripped a line-drive homer that was heading one full section to my left, so I bolted in that direction, and as I reached the next staircase, I jumped and lunged and caught it on the fly — all this with the sun in my eyes and another guy reaching for the ball from behind. It probably didn’t look all that special from afar, but trust me, there was a lot that went into it.
My third ball was as unexciting as it gets: Aaron Harang retrieved a ball from the warning track in right-center and tossed it up to me. (I ended up giving it away to a kid after the game.)
I headed back to left field when a bunch of righties started hitting. Look how crowded it was:
There wasn’t an empty row anywhere, except at the very back of the section in left-center.
Toward the end of BP, I got the attention of Reds 1st base coach Billy Hatcher. He was roaming the outfield with his fungo bat, and I convinced him to hit me a fungo. I stood on the armrests of a seat in order to elevate above the crowd and give him a better target. He was only about 75 feet away, and I was probably in the sixth row. His fungo was right on the money, but it fell a few feet short of where I wanted it. I wanted to be able to reach up and catch the ball over my head. That would’ve prevented anyone else from interfering, but the ball ended up waist-high, so another fan in front of me got his glove on it. Conveniently, after we both bobbled it, the ball dropped straight down and bounced straight up off the concrete in my row, and I was able to grab it.
After BP, I raced to the 3rd base dugout and got my fifth ball of the day from the Reds’ equipment guy. Here he is just before he tossed it to me…
…and here are two photos of the ball itself:
Is that beautiful or what?
Here’s another beautiful thing — the military jet flyover after the national anthem:
The fans were pumped…
…and so was I because I had a ticket for the fancy-schmancy Diamond Club area behind home plate. (I won’t get into all the details of the club here. If you want to know more about it, check out my entry from April 25, 2007. That was my first time there.) This was my view during the bottom of the 1st inning. Note Bronson Arroyo’s fantastic leg kick, in addition to all the standing room behind the seats:
Did I mention that the fans were pumped?
Here’s another photo, pretty much taken from the same spot as the one above. The difference here is that Aroldis Chapman was on the hill:
It was my first time seeing him pitch in person, and MAN-ALIVE can that young fella throw a baseball!!! Look at the radar gun reading in the following photo:
That wasn’t even his fastest pitch.
I don’t know how to describe the movement on his fastball. In fact, there appears to be very little movement. When Chapman releases the ball, it just stays straight, like there’s no gravity or air resistance. It doesn’t even seem that much faster than, say, a 95mph fastball. It just seems sturdier, if that makes sense. Everyone in the aisle was frozen in place…just standing around and watching him pitch:
It was truly awesome, and I was glad to be so close to the action.
Despite Chapman’s velocity, the Phillies managed to score three runs off him, all of which were unearned. The Reds’ defense fell apart. Look how many errors they made:
Despite all the standing room I had, I didn’t come close to a foul ball, but you know what? That hardly even mattered. MLB used to have commemorative balls (like this and this) during the first two rounds of the postseason, but not anymore.
With Brad Lidge in the process of nailing down the save, I worked my way to the seats behind the Reds’ dugout…
…but didn’t get anything there after the final out.
Final score: Phillies 7, Reds 4.
• 5 balls at this game (4 pictured on the right because I gave one away)
• 304 balls in 32 games this season = 9.5 balls per game.
• 661 consecutive games with at least one ball
• 204 consecutive games outside New York with at least one ball
• 13 consecutive post-season games with at least one ball
• 4 consecutive seasons with at least 300 balls
• 4,662 total balls
• 48 donors (click here to learn more)
• $7.53 pledged per ball (if you add up all the pledges)
• $37.65 raised at this game
• $2,289.12 raised this season for Pitch In For Baseball
The highlight of the day BY FAR was hanging out with my mom. Here we are outside the stadium:
The baseball portion of the day, unfortunately, was rough. I ran all over the place while the Phillies were taking batting practice…
…and I only managed to snag ONE ball during that time. I won’t even bother listing all the close calls and unlucky moments (most of which were the product of being in a sold-out stadium). All I’ll say is that I snagged the ball with my glove trick and that my mom took a cool photo of me while I was stretching across the flower bed. Check it out:
Once the Giants took the field, I changed my outfit accordingly…
…and it actually paid off. I headed into foul territory as the Giants pitchers were finishing playing catch. Matt Cain ended up with the ball and considered tossing it to a bunch of Phillies fans, but I got his attention. He then looked back at the other fans (which included several young women). Then he looked at me again. I tipped my cap and flaunted the Giants logo on my shirt. He looked at the other fans one last time. Then he looked at me, and I shrugged as if to
say, “Come on, I’m wearing Giants stuff. It doesn’t matter how cute the Phillies fans are. You can’t possibly be serious about giving the ball to them.” (Yes, my shrug communicated all of that.) Cain finally turned and threw me the very dirty ball, pictured here on the right.
Twenty minutes later, I caught a home run that was hit by a righty on the Giants. I have no idea who. He was wearing a warm-up jersey over his uniform number, and I was way too busy jockeying for position to pay any attention to his stance or swing. There was a swarm of fans around me. I had to jump up and reach above all of their gloves to make the catch. There was such a frenzy that my mom (who was standing 10 feet away) didn’t even know that I’d gotten the ball until I took it out of my glove and showed her.
That was it for BP.
Tim Lincecum signed autographs for five minutes at the dugout. People were going crazy. I couldn’t get near him. I settled for taking his photo:
After that, I met up with David Rhode, the executive director of Pitch in For Baseball, the charity for which I’m raising money this season. David was there with his 14-year-old son Casey. They’re bigtime Phillies fans, which is understandable given the fact that they actually live in Pennsylvania, but still, when the three of us had our picture taken, I felt compelled to wear my Giants gear and try to cover up their evil Phillies logos. Here we are:
Ten minutes before the game started, I worked my way down to the front row along the left field foul line. Juan Uribe was playing catch with a couple other guys, and when they finished,
I got him to throw me the ball. (The ball is pictured here on the right. As you can see, it has a smudged MLB logo, which I find somewhat
interesting.) It was easy. Not only was I the only person there wearing
Giants gear, but no one else was even wearing a glove or standing up.
After that, my mom and I headed to the Diamond Club seats behind home plate. We stayed near the back of the unofficial standing-room-only area, just in front of the glass doors that lead into the club. This was our view for right-handed batters:
It’s a great foul ball spot — not ideal because of its close proximity to the field — but it’s good enough that I feel like I have a genuine shot on every single pitch. I got my chance with one out in the top of the 2nd inning. Randy Winn hit a very high foul pop-up that was pretty much heading right to me. As I was drifting with it and preparing to make the catch, a man walked up from behind me and inadvertently cut me off…or maybe *I* was the one who cut *him* off. It doesn’t matter. The point is…from my perspective…he got right in my way at the last second. But he wasn’t trying to catch the ball. He didn’t have a glove. He was carrying beers. He didn’t even know the ball was coming. He just happened to stroll out through the doors…and THWACK!!! The ball clocked him on the forehead. Direct hit. Holy hell. My instinct, of course (because I’m such a kind-hearted person), was to grab the ball, which conveniently landed at my feet. The man, meanwhile, spilled his beer and staggered backward and spouted an incredible string of obscenities (not at me, but at his general misfortune) as security whisked him off for medical treatment. I noticed that he had a big bloody welt on his head. It was alarming, to say the least. I was planning to give him the ball (or at least *a* ball) when he returned, but I didn’t see him for the rest of the night.
Here’s a photo of the ball:
(Nope, no forehead imprint.)
I had another shot at a foul ball in the 9th inning, but I totally blew it. It was hit way over my head — into the third deck, I think — and was dropped by some fans. The ball fell all the way back down and landed on the pavement near me in the standing-room area. I ran toward it and tried to smother it before it bounced back up, but I failed miserably and deflected the ball right to some other fans. It was a lot more complicated than that, but I don’t want to relive it by telling the story here. Some things are better left unsaid. Anyway, I was so upset (not just because I’d booted my chance at a foul ball but because I was getting booed by so many people) that a teenaged kid walked over to me and handed me a ball. It wasn’t THE ball. It was a different game-used ball that he happened to have. Long story short: I tried to convince the kid that I really *really* didn’t need his baseball, but he was determined to give it to me, and there came a point when I realized it would have insulted him if I didn’t accept his gift. So, I reluctantly allowed him to hand it over (no, the ball doesn’t count in my collection), at which point a bunch of people (his mom included) started cheering him for his generosity. And then, 15 minutes later, I turned the ball over to a younger kid who was heading out of the stadium with an empty glove.
Those final 15 minutes were action-packed. Cole Hamels completed his two-hit, 1-0 masterpiece — only the fourth 1-0 game in the six-year history of Citizens Bank Park — and I got a ball tossed to me at the Giants’ dugout by one of the relievers.
• 406 balls in 48 games this season = 8.46 balls per game.
• 617 consecutive games with at least one ball
• 176 consecutive games outside of New York with at least one ball
• 132 lifetime game balls (not counting game-used balls that get tossed into the crowd)
• 4,226 total balls
• 122 donors (click here and scroll down for the complete list)
• $25.01 pledged per ball
• $150.06 raised at this game
• $10,154.06 raised this season for Pitch In For Baseball
This is one of those stories that requires context, so here it is:
1) I’ve become friendly with Padres closer Heath Bell.
2) Heath knows about my baseball collection and seems to enjoy adding to it.
3) When I saw Heath on 4/15/09 at Citi Field, he told me he had saved a ball for me from the World Baseball Classic–but he didn’t have it with him. The ball was in San Diego.
Ever since that game, Heath and I have been texting back and forth, trying to figure out when and where we could meet. Obviously, since the Padres’ travel schedule was set, it was up to me to make the effort.
Here’s some more context…
The week before the All-Star Game, Heath left me a voice-mail in which he asked if I was going to be there. “Unfortunately I don’t have a ticket for ya,” he said, “just ’cause I got a bunch of people coming, but hey, if you are, hit me up.” I called him back, got his voice-mail, and told him that I was not going to be attending the All-Star Game. Then I reminded him that I’d be in Philadelphia on July 23rd and said that if he happened to see an extra All-Star Game ball lying around, it’d be cool if he could grab it for me, but if not, no worries.
On July 21st (the day before the Padres were going to be leaving on an eight-game road trip), I texted Heath with a “friendly reminder” to bring the ball from the World Baseball Classic.
Yesterday was THE day: July 23rd at Citizens Bank Park. Was Heath really going to bring the ball? I wasn’t sure…and it ended up raining like hell during the drive down to Philly (see the photo on the right)…but I had to keep going. I had to be there. To hell with batting practice. There was no other way I’d ever get to count a ball from the World Baseball Classic in my collection. As I’ve mentioned many times before, I don’t count Spring Training balls, and the only minor league balls I’ve counted were used by major league players at major league stadiums at actual major league games. (For the last few years, the uber-cheap Tigers have been using balls like this and this during BP.) Along these lines, I decided back in 2006 not to count balls from the Classic–it’s an exhibition that isn’t exclusively played by major leaguers–but if I somehow were to snag a Classic ball at a regular season game, that would be the one exception.
I reached the stadium at around 3:30pm, and even though it was really gray and windy, there was no sign of rain:
There was no sign of life either, and for a while I didn’t know what to think. Would there possibly be batting practice? Would there even be a game?
By the time the stadium opened at 4:35pm, there was a huge crowd waiting outside the gates, and when I ran inside, this is what I saw:
Of course the left field seats (where everyone is confined for the first hour) ended up getting unbearably crowded:
During that first hour, I managed to snag three balls. The first was thrown by Joe Blanton at the furthest edge of the seats in left-center field. The second came via the glove trick near the foul pole, and the third was a home run that I caught on the fly. I don’t know who hit it. There’s a slim chance that it was Jayson Werth, but whatever. Doesn’t matter.
I spotted Heath as soon as the Padres took the field:
I shouted his name and waved my cap (the one that he gave me on 8/31/08 at PETCO Park) and he looked up and spotted me in the crowd. As he started throwing, he told me to wait for him in foul territory. For some reason, though, the rest of the stadium still hadn’t opened by 5:40pm, so when Heath headed off to the clubhouse (presumably to get THE ball), I wasn’t able to keep pace with him by cutting through the seats toward the dugout. That sucked. It meant I had to wait with everyone else near the foul pole, where the wall was so high that I wasn’t going to be able to have a normal conversation with Heath or shake his hand. And then it started to rain. The Padres kept hitting, however, and eventually Heath came back out and started walking toward me:
It looked like he had something tucked inside his glove, and as he got closer and tossed it up, I still had no idea what it was:
I could tell that there was a ball inside…no wait…there were TWO balls inside. It was some sort of tube sock…dark green fabric…with knots tied around each ball to keep them separate. My mind couldn’t process it, but I snapped back to reality just in time to yell “Thank you!!” as Heath jogged off toward right-center. Two balls?! Seriously? Had he given me two balls from the World Baseball Classic? Or was one of them from the All-Star Game? Or maybe from some other All Star event? Since I now number my baseballs, how would I know which one I’d snagged first? I got them both at the same time. But why even number them if they were each one-of-a-kind?
I was dying to untie the knots and see what was inside the sock, but there was a ball that was sitting on the warning track in left-center. I decided that my surprise would have to wait for a couple minutes, so I ran over and leaned way out over the flower bed and used my glove trick to reel it in. When I pulled the ball out of my glove, this is what it looked like:
The rain, meanwhile, was great. It was light enough that the Padres kept hitting, but heavy enough that it chased half the fans out of the seats:
I took the sock out of my backpack…
…but just as I was about to start untying the knots, several righties starting taking their cuts, so I threw the sock back in my bag. AAHH!! It was killing me to keep waiting, but it would’ve killed me to miss any opportunities.
My decision paid off. Someone on the Padres hit a home run that landed near me in a small cluster of fans. The ball got bobbled (not by me) and landed briefly on the top edge of the back of the seat right in front of me, at which point I snatched it. Nice! That was my seventh ball of the day, including the two that Heath had given me.
It was time to see what was in the sock…
If I’d gone to the All-Star Game, the flights and hotel and ticket would’ve cost more than $1,000, and what would I have hoped to get out of it? Umm, snagging the ball pictured up above on the right. Yay for Heath Bell. That’s all there is to it. (Oh…and if you want to see my entire collection of commemorative balls, click here.)
Anyway, a bunch of lefties started hitting so I ran over to right field and ended up catching a home run on the fly. See the guy below in the “HAMELS 35” jersey?
After I caught the ball by reaching in front of him, he threatened to throw me over the wall.
Stay classy, Philadelphia! Yeah!
My goal, at that point, was to snag two more balls and reach double digits. I didn’t snag anything else during BP, but I did get my ninth ball right before the game started. Drew Macias was playing catch with Will Venable…
…and Macias hooked me up when they finished. (I’m proud of myself–even though it’s indicative of other problems–for not getting distracted by the cheerleaders.)
Over the course of the day, several people recognized me from YouTube, including one guy who’s 6-foot-10, and since I have an obsession with height (obviously not my own), here we are:
If I’m remembering correctly, his name is Morgan. I asked him if he has ever tried to catch baseballs at games, and luckily for the rest of humanity, his answer was no. Can you imagine how much he would dominate? Who would ever stand next to him? He’d have a whole section to himself wherever he went. Is there anyone reading this who’s freakishly (and I mean that in a good way) tall? If so, I want to hear about your snagging experience. I wonder if there’s ever been a seven-footer who was serious about ballhawking. Yikes.
After the national anthem, Heath and I caught a glimpse of each other near the dugout. I mouthed the words “thank you” and put my palms together and make a little bowing gesture. He gave me a nod as he began walking across the field toward the bullpen, and that was the last I saw of him.
As for the game, I’d splurged and bought a Diamond Club ticket. Why, you ask? Because of all this room to run for foul balls:
The only problem was that there weren’t any foul balls to be caught. That area seems like it would be awesome, but it’s so close to home plate and so close to field level that most foul balls fly way overhead.
One good thing about the Diamond Club is that there’s a sweet view of the batting cages. Here’s Eric Bruntlett taking some mid-game hacks:
Another good thing is the food. Yes, it’s expensive, but the quality really is the best I’ve ever experienced at a stadium. Check out what I got for 11 bucks:
That’s a burger with grilled onions, swiss cheese, and bacon, along with a caesar salad and fresh pineapple. Yum! (I’d also eaten two hot dogs after BP, one with diced/raw onions and another with cheese sauce. So?)
After the game, I went to the Padres’ dugout (even though they lost) and saw a ballboy tossing out ball after ball. I got him to toss one to me, and for a second, I thought it was commemorative because there was a big dark spot on it, but it turned out just to be a smudge:
Still, the ball was clearly game-used, so that was cool.
As soon as I snagged it, I gave one of my BP balls to a little kid. It just so happened that an on-field security guard (who recognizes me, it should be noted, and is exceptionally rude) saw me hand it over. What was his response? Instead of a) praising my generosity or b) simply keeping his mouth shut, he c) started scolding the ballboy for giving a ball to me (“What’s the matter with you?!”) and demanding that I give away balls to all the other kids in the section.
Citizens Bank Park has officially become Yankee Stadium.
• 320 balls in 37 games this season = 8.6 balls per game.
• 606 consecutive games with at least one ball
• 168 consecutive games outside of New York with at least one ball
• 109 lifetime games with at least 10 balls
• 48 lifetimes games outside of New York with at least 10 balls
• 4,140 total balls
• 114 donors (click here and scroll down for the complete list)
• $24.59 pledged per ball
• $245.90 raised at this game
• $7,868.80 raised this season for Pitch In For Baseball
This was my third Watch With Zack game with Clif, a 14-year-old Mets fan who’s been reading this blog since last year and leaving comments as “goislanders4.” Our first game together was on 9/25/07 at Shea Stadium. The second was on 7/28/08 at Yankee Stadium. His mother Gail couldn’t make it to this game, so I picked Clif up at home, then got a tour of his baseball collection…
…and drove him to Philadelphia. (I don’t know why Clif decided to wear a Padres hat for the photo above, but I can explain the shirt: the Phillies were going to be playing the Nationals. Clif’s favorite player is Nationals center fielder Lastings Milledge and the shirt said “MILLEDGE 44” on the back.) This was the 10th Watch With Zack game I’d done since starting the business last year, but it was the first time that I went with a kid and no one else. I was extra responsible for Clif’s well-being, and yet I felt more free than ever to run around for balls and help him do the same. He’d already proven (to both me and his mom) that he knew his way around a major league stadium. He didn’t need a babysitter. He just needed someone to GET him to Citizens Bank Park so he could do his thing. Of course, it didn’t hurt that that someone was me.
We arrived at the stadium at 3:15pm…
…and got cheesesteaks at McFadden’s:
We were the first ones to run inside the stadium when the Ashburn Alley gate opened at 4:35pm. Clif peeled off and headed to the corner spot in center field. I walked over to the foul pole and took a photo of the left field seats:
See the flower bed that separates the seats from the outfield wall? Once BP got underway, I leaned all the way across it (with my knees on the back railing and my elbows on the front) and used my glove trick to snag two balls off the warning track.
As the left field seats were getting more crowded, I caught a line drive homer on a fly and snagged another home run ball off the ground–a ball that had initially hit the heel of my glove when an aggressive Phillies fan bumped me from behind. The ball was lopsided. Check it out in the photo on the right. You don’t see that too often with “official major league baseballs.”
Toward the end of the Phillies’ portion of batting practice, Clif and I convened in left-center field, and I caught another home run on a fly. I was about six rows back, and the ball was hit high in the air. I judged it perfectly and drifted down the steps as it descended, and I reached up above half a dozen hands at the last second to make the catch. This was my record-breaking 322nd ball of the season (my previous record was set in 2005) and Clif was excited because he’d gotten a great view.
Clif and I ran out to the seats in right-center when the rest of the stadium opened at 5:35pm. Less than two minutes later, he got his second ball of the day from Nationals pitcher Garrett Mock, and I took a photo as the ball was flying his way. Check it out:
Clif is wearing the dark glove. The ball was thrown right to him. The kid on his left (with the light blond hair) nearly interfered. Good thing Clif was reaching out for the ball instead of standing back and waiting for it.
A little while later, Clif headed over to left-center and got ball No. 3 from Tim Redding. (I’ll let Clif share all the details about this and his other balls in a comment.)
The next ball I caught was my sixth of the the day and the 3,600th of my life. I wish I knew who hit it. It was another home run. It was hit by a right-handed batter on the Nationals. I bolted to my right through the empty second row, then realized the ball was tailing back so I darted back to my left and made a two-handed catch right where I’d been standing in the first place. Duh. And it was one of those crappy training balls:
The ball was so slick…it felt like it was made of wax. I really don’t understand why teams use these balls. I mean, okay, they’re trying to save money, but these balls feel nothing like game balls. If you were a concert pianist, would you practice on a Fisher Price keyboard? If you were a NASCAR driver, would you train by driving a ’98 Pontiac? Umm, no, probably not. Therefore, I demand to know: WHY ARE MAJOR LEAGUE PLAYERS USING CHEAP PLASTICKY BASEBALLS?!?! The only theory I can come up with is that if the players are forced to hit inferior balls, they might not try to hit home runs because they’ll know the balls won’t travel that far. This might make them focus on swinging level and hitting line drives, which ideally would improve their hitting. But it’s not. The Nationals are the worst team in baseball, and as of three days ago, they were mired in a losing streak that ended up lasting 12 games.
Collin Balester tossed me my seventh ball of the day–another stupid training ball–in straight away right field, and that was it for BP.
Ten minutes before the game started, two Nationals players began throwing in front of the third base dugout. I asked Clif which end of the dugout he wanted, and he chose the outfield end. It was a good choice because Ronnie Belliard, the older of the two players, was on that end. (The more experienced player usually ends up with the ball.) Sure enough, several minutes later, Belliard flipped the ball to Clif on his way in. I got another action photo:
Did you see the ball? Here’s a closer look:
Moments later, two more Nationals came out and started throwing. Clif stayed on his end. I stayed on mine. Ryan Zimmerman, the more experienced player, was closer to me and ended up tossing me the ball.
The ball he’d gotten from Belliard was a training ball.
The ball I got from Zimmerman was…
…a thing of beauty. But don’t feel too bad for Clif. He’d already gotten one of these balls earlier this season at Nationals Park, and when I offered to give him this one, he wouldn’t accept it.
Another reason not to feel bad for Clif is that he got Lastings Milledge to sign his T-shirt. Here’s Milledge tossing the shirt back to Clif:
Here’s Clif wearing the shirt backwards to show off the signature…
…and here’s a closeup of the signature:
As for the game…
Gail had hooked us up by going on StubHub and getting two Diamond Club tickets. The club itself is pretty lame. It’s just a big, over-fancy restaurant tucked underneath the concourse behind home plate, but the seats themselves were IDEAL for chasing foul balls. Seriously, just look at this view from the first-base side of home plate:
It’s truly impossible to sneak down to this section without a ticket. When you first arrive, there’s a pair of ushers (at the bottom of each of the two staircases) who make SURE you belong. The first guy checks your ticket and punches a hole in it, and the second guy gives you a wristband that you have to wear for the rest of the night. There’s no way to take off the wristband and give it to so
meone else. The only way to take it off is to rip it off, and get this…the color of the band changes from game to game, and the date of the game is printed right on it:
I’m telling you, the ushers guard this section as if their lives depend on it. On 4/25/07 at Citizens Bank Park, I got to explore the Diamond Club before the game because I had media credentials for a TV segment I was being filmed for, but once the game started, I got kicked out. I was stunned. This was my 15th game ever at Citizens Bank Park, and it was the first time I’d ever been in this section during the game, but of course, since I’m jinxed, there wasn’t a single foul ball hit anywhere near me all night. Amazing. But it was still fun to roam and hope.
Clif spent the first few innings going for third-out balls behind the Nationals’ dugout, and it paid off in a BIG way. Phillies catcher Chris Coste flied out to center field to
end the bottom of the second. Who was playing center field for the Nationals? That’s right: Lastings Milledge. From my spot behind home plate, I could see Clif work his way down to the front row as soon as the catch was made, and eventually I saw Milledge flip the ball in Clif’s direction. But there were a bunch of other kids, and I couldn’t tell who had gotten it. I immediately called Clif on his cell phone. His voice-mail picked up. He was trying to call me. I answered and asked if he’d gotten the ball. He had! WOOO!!! Go Clif!!! How awesome is that?! Getting a game-used ball tossed to you by your favorite player?! Damn. I wish I could take credit and say that Clif couldn’t have done it without me–and perhaps he wouldn’t have if I hadn’t gone to this game with him–but he deserves all the credit. He knew what to do, and he made it happen. I was proud of him and very excited.
Clif and I were rooting for the Nationals all the way, but they blew a 4-1 lead and ended up losing, 5-4. I figured the best shot of getting a post-game ball was from the home plate umpire on the Nationals’ side, so I let Clif go for that. I went to the Phillies’ dugout and didn’t expect to get anything because it was so crowded and noisy, but as it turned out, Clif wasn’t able to make it all the way down to the front row to even ask the umpire for a ball, and I happened to get Brad Lidge to toss me the game-ending ball. Sweet! It was THE ball he had used to record his 31st save of the season and the 154th of his career (not to mention his 631st career strikeout). It felt good.
Once again, I offered to give that ball (and others) to Clif, but he wouldn’t take it. He had his collection. He knew I had mine. And that was that.
? 9 balls at this game
? 326 balls in 45 games this season = 7.2 balls per game.
? 541 consecutive games with at least one ball
? 132 consecutive games outside of New York with at least one ball
? 10 consecutive Watch With Zack games with at least two balls
? 3,603 total balls
…and played some Arkanoid:
Then we went over to my parents’ place where I keep most of my baseballs. You could say Clif was in awe:
You could also say Clif had fun:
There are exactly 1,200 balls (three barrels’ worth) in the photo above. Clif stayed buried for about 20 minutes until Gail showed up. You could say she had fun too.