Another day with Jona at my new favorite stadium...
The weather was perfect--no complaints there--but I wanted to kick someone when I ran inside and saw this:
The Royals weren't taking batting practice, and they clearly weren't in any rush to start:
It really killed me. I pretty much had the whole stadium to myself, and I could feel my opportunities slipping away.
Finally
at about
4:45pm--fifteen excruciating minutes after the gates had opened--the
first batter stepped into the cage, and it didn't take long before I
got on the board. Kyle Farnsworth was shagging in right-center, and as
soon as he fielded a ball, I shouted for it.
The
following four-part photo (starting on the top left and going
clockwise) shows what happened next. The three vertical arrows are
pointing to the ball in mid-air:
Yeah, that's right. The damn thing sailed over my head, and since I was
trapped against that railing in the middle of the walkway, I couldn't
move. If I'd been able to run to the back of the walkway, I probably
would've been able to make a leaping catch, like an outfielder robbing
a home run, but instead I could only watch the ball splash into the
fountain.
No problem.
I whipped out my trusty water-retrieval-device...

...and
fished out the ball before it had a chance to sink. (The photo above is
blurry because it's a screen shot from a low-quality video. The video
itself isn't worth sharing because the ball was never in view. It
floated right below me and hugged the concrete wall, and Jona wasn't
able to see it from her angle. The fan in the background is named
Garrett. I wrote about him in my
previous entry,
and you'll be hearing a lot more about him in this one. Also, FYI, the
water is a bit murky, but since it's only a few feet deep, you *can*
see balls that sink to the bottom, but those balls seemed to be cleared
out daily.)
I was in such a rush at this point to run over
toward the bullpen and try to get Roman Colon to throw me another ball
that I neglected to pose with the one I'd just snagged. Why is that a
big deal? Because that first ball had extended my consecutive games
streak to 600--a streak dating back to September 10,
1993, during which I've snagged at least one ball at every single game I've attended.
Oh
well. I got caught up in the moment. What can I say? At least I got
Colon to show me some love. Here's a photo that shows the ball in
mid-air:
Perhaps I should've drawn a red arrow pointing to myself. In case it's
not clear, I'm standing just to the right of the fan in the red shirt.
It's
obvious why the Royals are struggling: their pitchers suck. Farnsworth
had airmailed me and Colon's throw fell three feet short. Luckily it
traveled just far enough that I was able to reach over the railing and
make a back-handed catch:
I used the
glove trick
to snag my third ball of the day off the warning track in left field.
Yeah, security had told me twice the previous day not to do it anymore,
but this was a brand new day. Maybe the rules had changed overnight,
and even if they hadn't, I didn't have anything to lose. This was my
last game at Kauffman Stadium. I was done with all my TV interviews. I
was going to be flying back home to New York City the next day. If I
got ejected, so be it.
In the following photo, you can see me
going for the ball. The vertical arrow on the left is pointing to a man
who was leaning over the wall to see the balls below because he, too,
had a device. The other arrow is pointing to the kid who caught that
random ball flying through the air:
Even while I was doing my thing, there were still lots of other balls
to go around. Keep that in mind as you continue reading. I don't want
you to think that my snagging prevented other people from getting
balls. That wasn't the case at all. I missed out on countless balls
because they were tossed to kids, and that's how it should be.
Coco
Crisp hooked me up with my fourth ball of the day in left-center field,
and then I used the glove trick to pull two balls out of the gap behind
the center field wall. Here's a close-up photo of the first ball in my
glove...
...and here's a shot of the second one, taken by Jona from the other end of the gap:
Both of those balls were BP homers by Billy Butler, but whatever. Do you see all the
other
balls that were sitting down in that gap? GAHHH!!! It was maddening to
see them and not be able to reach them. The photo above doesn't even
show all the balls that were down there. There were like...twice as
many. It was insane. They'd been there for two days, and I'd asked
several different ushers about them.
How often do the balls get cleared out?
Who actually goes and retrieves them?
What would happen if I jumped down in there?No
one had a definitive answer. One usher said that the groundskeepers
probably retrieve the balls, but he wasn't sure. It was strange, and it
had me thinking, although I didn't really know what to think. There was
still one more ball down in there that I could reach with my glove
trick, so I started going for it, and that's when security shut me
down. The guard didn't threaten me or confiscate my glove or eject me.
He simply made a polite request that I stop. He even apologized and
insisted that the order had come from his supervisor. How could I argue
with that? It was frustrating, of course, but at least I'd gotten to
use the trick three times on this final day.
As I began untangling the string, the kid standing next to me inspected my glove...
...and then asked me for a ball. That annoyed me. First of all, he
didn't even have a glove (which indicated that he wasn't serious about
snagging), and secondly, as a general rule, I never give balls to
people who ask. The way I see it, other fans should focus on getting
balls from the players and not from...other fans, especially during BP
when there are tons of opportunities. Therefore, I politely told the
kid that I was not going to give him a ball. Instead I gave him a few
pointers to help him snag one on his own, and wouldn't you know it,
less than two minutes later he grabbed a home run ball that landed near
him in the seats. I congratulated him and then saw him snag FOUR more
balls after that!
Once
the Diamondbacks started hitting, I changed into my red D'backs shirt
and got Eric Byrnes to toss me my seventh ball of the day in center
field. In the following photo, you can see the ball in mid-air against
the dark green batter's eye:
A minute after I got the ball from Byrnes, I saw Tom Gordon walking
toward a couple balls on the warning track in right field, so I
sprinted around behind the batter's eye and hurried down to the lower
level of the Pepsi Party Porch, and I got him to toss one of the balls
to me. Then, back in left field, a home run landed in the fountain. It
was time once again for the water device. The four-part photo below
shows me getting it ready and swinging it out...
...and here I am reeling it in:
That gave me nine balls on the day, and it didn't take long for me to
reach double digits. Some righty on the D'backs (no idea who) launched
a deep line drive toward the seats in left-center.

I
bolted through the empty walkway behind the four rows of seats and
watched the ball take a series of unlikely bounces. It's hard to
describe exactly what happened so I took a photo later on (which you
can see here on the right) to help illustrate this story. Do you see
the concrete ridge that extends perpendicular from behind the walkway
into the fountain? Somehow, this home run ball ricocheted out of the
seats, landed on the ridge (which is only about a foot wide), caromed
off the back wall of the fountain, landed back on the ridge, took a
couple small bounces, and squeezed back through the railing into the
walkway. It wouldn't have mattered if the ball had fallen into the
water because I still would've snagged it. In fact, I was kind of
disappointed that I didn't get to use the water device, but it's
probably just as well that the ball stayed dry. Anyway, yeah, crazy
bounces, and I grabbed it.
It was a challenge to keep up with my notes...
...but I had to find moments here and there to keep a list of how I was
snagging all my baseballs. Otherwise, I never would've remembered. (In
the photo above, the guy wearing the long black pants is the one who
gave me a hard time about the glove trick the day before. Watch out for
him if you plan on using a device at Kauffman Stadium.)
About 10 minutes later, I caught two homers on the fly in the walkway behind the
"102" sign in straight-away left field. I'm not sure who hit the first
one, but I know that Byrnes hit the second. I caught them back-to-back
within a 30-second span, and it had the whole section buzzing, but
really there was nothing to it. Both balls came RIGHT to me, and okay,
the seats were a bit crowded by that point, but so what? It really
doesn't get any easier than that.

At the end of my
previous entry,
I mentioned that I saw Diamondbacks pitcher Clay Zavada in Denny's
after the game. Remember? Well, I'd been hoping to get a ball from him
for three reasons. First, his last name begins with a zee, which we all
know is the best letter. Second, he has an
awesome moustache. And third, after reading that
New York Times article
about him, I became an instant fan. The only trouble is...he's not the
most outgoing person. Over the previous two days, my few ball requests
directed his way went ignored, but on this third day, I had an angle. I
waited until he was about to pick up a ball in left field, then raced
down to the front row and yelled, "Clay!! I saw you in Denny's last
night but didn't want to bother you!! Any chance you could hook me up
with a ball, please?!"
He ignored me, so I waited for him to
chase down another ball and then I shouted something similar. It
worked. He turned right around and spotted me and flipped it up, and
let me tell you, it felt great to have gotten inside his head for a
moment.
Toward the end of BP, I had another noteworthy
interaction with a Diamondbacks pitcher. This time it was Esmerling
Vasquez. At one point, a bit earlier in the day, I'd asked him for a
ball in Spanish. He turned around and smiled but didn't throw me the
ball, so I responded with a crude but common curse in Spanish. As soon
as he heard that, he whirled back around and looked at me and dropped
his jaw in an exaggerated manner as if to say, "I can't believe you
just said that, and I hope you're joking." I immediately smiled and
made a gesture to indicate that I was only messing around, and he
seemed to appreciate my playful attitude. Later on, when

the D'backs were close to wrapping up BP, Vasquez jogged over to the
warning track in left-center to retrieve a ball. I walked down the
steps and got his attention and asked him for it in English.
"In Spanish," he said so softly that I had to make sure I understood.
"You want me to ask you for the ball in Spanish?"
He
nodded, so I made a dramatic request with lots of prayer-like gestures
and a few English words sprinkled in. It went something along the lines
of:
"Por favor, señor, da me la pelota. Solamente una pelota and then I will cállate."
The English translation of that ridiculousness is: "Please, Sir, give
me the ball. Only one ball and then I will shut up." That's pretty much
all I know how to say in Spanish. (Well, that and a lot of bad words,
courtesy of an all-Dominican baseball
camp
staff that coached me for three full summers in the early 1990s.) But
it worked. Vasquez smiled big and tossed me the ball--my 14th of the
day--and that was it for batting practice.
Just before the
D'backs left the field, I gave my heavy backpack to Jona and raced to
the 3rd base dugout and got some equipment guy to toss me a ball as he
was dumping all the balls from the basket to the ball bag. Hot damn.
I'd snagged 13 balls at my first game of the series, 14 balls at my
second game, and now 15 balls at my last game. BEST. STADIUM. EVER. And
finally, it was time to explore it. I'd heard all about the $250
million renovation. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.
Just
as my stadium tour was about to get underway, I ran into Garrett and
asked him if he wanted to wander with me. It was 40 minutes 'til game
time. There wasn't anything else to do, so he came along. We started by
walking into the spacious tunnel that leads to the dugout concourse...
...and I was very impressed with what I saw at the other end:
I just felt bad that such a nice stadium was so poorly attended, but
hey, from a ballhawking perspective, the low attendance was great.
Garrett and I walked through the main concourse behind home plate...
...and headed up to the upper deck. Gorgeous! Look at the concourse:
The whole stadium was clean and spacious, and there was lots of natural
light, and best of all it was understated, unlike a certain new
ballpark--ahem, in the Bronx--that's sickeningly grandiose.
We climbed up the steps to the top row of the upper deck, and I took a few photos to make a panorama:
Below are four more photos of the upper deck...
TOP LEFT: The huge "tunnel" that leads from the concourse to the
seats. Brilliant stadium design. That's all I can say about that. No
other upper deck, as far as I know, has anything like it. People tend
to appreciate light and air and space to move around. Kauffman Stadium
delivers it.
TOP RIGHT: The open-air portion of the concourse along the RF foul line. There's nothing wrong with simplicity.
BOTTOM RIGHT: The front row. Nice. More simplicity. There's no reason for an upper deck to have two or three different tiers of seating.
BOTTOM LEFT:
A chain-link fence at the back of the seats. One word: quaint. All the
architects out there can take their fancy facades and shove 'em. I
prefer watching baseball in ballparks, not palaces or malls or museums:
I couldn't stop raving about Kauffman Stadium. Garrett got a kick out of that.
We headed down to the main concourse...
...and made our way around the outfield. Here's the view from the top of the fountains in right field:
The outfield concourse has an inner and an outer area. (Another
great use of space.) The following photo was taken between the two...
...and when I walked into the outer area, I couldn't
believe how much stuff was back there. The following SIX-part photo shows it all, starting on the top left and then going clockwise:
1) A concert stage.
2) Miniature golf.
3) A playground and carousel.
4) Batting cages.
5) A baserunning challenge.
6) A small baseball field.
I loved these kid-friendly attractions because they weren't in the way.
You know what I mean? They were essentially hidden at a far edge of the
stadium. I'd been at The New K for two days and didn't even know that
any of that stuff was there, so my point is: it doesn't interfere with
the baseball experience. It's just there in case people want to go and
check it out, but if you're a true baseball fan and you're glued to the
game and you don't want to be bothered with anything else, it's not in
your face. Most of the games back there cost a bit of money to play.
You have to buy tokens. I'm not even sure where you'd buy them or how
much they cost. I didn't have time to investigate. The game was almost
set to begin, so I hurried over to the 3rd base dugout and stopped
along the way to take a photo of the cross-aisle that runs through the
field level seats:
Anyone can walk through this aisle at any time. It doesn't matter where your ticketed seat is.
The stadium is so pretty and simple and laid-back. I was in heaven.
Unfortunately, I didn't get a ball tossed to me after the pre-game
throwing (I picked the wrong end of the dugout), so I headed to the
outfield just in time for the first pitch. I was dying to catch a game
home run, and it seemed that my chances here were as good as they'd
ever be at any game in any stadium. Look how much room I had out in
left field in the top of the first inning:
(Normally the ushers don't let people stand in that walkway during the game, but they made an exception for me.)
Look how much room I had in right field in the bottom of the first:
OH MY GOD!!! This stadium was built for ballhawks. The only problem
was that there was SO much room to run that I ended up running nonstop
and got completely sweaty. Embarrassingly sweaty. Just like the day
before. Check it out:
I didn't realize until I saw the photo above that I was still wearing
my D'backs cap. I didn't want to offend the locals (not that anyone
cared what I was wearing) so I gave it to Jona and got my Royals cap
back from her. Here she is after we switched caps--this is where she sat
during the game:
Did you notice all the balls sitting in the gap behind her? Here, have a closer look:
AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!
What in the world was going to happen to all those balls?
In the top of the sixth inning, I was hanging out on the RF porch with my new friend,
Bob Buck,
when Gerardo Parra lined a home run into the bullpen. Naturally I ran
over to see what was going to happen to that ball, and to my surprise,
no one bothered to pick it up. It just sat on the ground, right in the
middle of the bullpen, as various players and employees walked back and
forth:
It's like they were all trying to tease me. The ball sat there for a
full inning! I couldn't leave, and I was worried about missing other
opportunities elsewhere.
Finally I shouted at the Royals' bullpen catcher and got him to toss it
up, but he flung it lazily and didn't really AIM for me, and as a
result, the ball sailed five feet to my left. Bob was standing to my
left at the time, and he managed to get a hand on it, but there were a
bunch of other people also reaching for it, and they all bobbled it,
and the ball dropped right down into the aisle at our feet, but I WAS
BLOCKED and couldn't reach it. I'm sure there are some people who
would've just plowed everyone over in order to grab that ball, but
that's not my style. All I could do was stand there helplessly and
watch some gloveless fan snatch it. That really hurt.
In between innings, Bob asked me to sign a ball, and then his wife Kathi took a photo of us:
(Two questions: Do you like my farmer's tan? And...on a scale of 1 to 10, how much does Bob look like Alec Baldwin?)
In the top of the eighth inning, Eric Byrnes hit a home run into the
D'backs bullpen down the LF line. When I ran over to see where it went,
an usher told me it had rolled right into the bathroom. Another fan
started shouting at Jon Rauch for the ball. Rauch was the closest one
to the bathroom, so what did he do? He got up and closed the bathroom
door and sat back down. What a guy.
My frustration was mounting. I'd been putting up huge numbers in BP,
and I was doing EVERYthing it took to put myself in the perfect
position to catch a game home run, but it just wasn't happening. There
was a grand total of three homers hit during this series: none the
first day, one the second day (which I nearly snagged even though it
landed a full section over from where I'd been standing), and two on
this third day, both of which landed in the bullpens. Unreal.
In the middle of the ninth inning, just after I'd changed back into my
D'backs gear, an usher came running over and told me that a ball had
just landed in the fountain. WHAT?! I hadn't seen a ball land there. Was he
messing with me? I knew that the
ball wouldn't float long, so I didn't question him. I just ran over and
took a look...and sure enough, there was a ball bobbing in the water. I
pulled out my device, flung it out, and reeled in the ball on the first
shot. Here I am with it:
It was my 16th ball of the day, and I learned later that it was Parra's
warm-up ball. He had thrown it to some
fans but his aim was way off and the ball sailed all the way over the
section and landed in the water. Bad for the other fans. Good for me.
At that point, I was thinking that I still had a chance to get few more balls. Maybe three more? Maybe even FOUR more? Whoa...it
occurred to me that I had an outside shot at reaching 20. I'd only
snagged that many three times before, so this was a big deal. I wasn't
sure if it was possible, though. Since the D'backs were going to win
the game, and since the umpires exit the field on the third base side
of the dugout, I figured I could get a ball from the home plate umpire
(that would be No. 17), then race back to the home plate end of the
dugout and get a ball from one of the players or coaches (that would be
No. 18). Maybe I could get one a couple minutes later from the guys
coming in from the bullpen? That would be 19. And then...get this...out
in that center field gap, there were two balls that were reachable with
the glove trick--one on the left side of the gap and another on the
right side. I wasn't sure if I could get away with using the trick
after the game ended, but it was something I'd been considering all
night. I figured I'd have to wait until security was gone, or wait 'til
they weren't looking...but this was a major league stadium. Someone is
ALWAYS looking. (I learned that the hard way on
9/2/08 at Dodger Stadium.) I was getting ahead of myself. First things first. I
got into position near the dugout and waited impatiently for the
game to end. Final score: Diamondbacks 12, Royals 5. (The Royals are

absolutely terrible, BTW. They have a glorious stadium, but most of their starters wouldn't even be on the Yankees
roster. I don't like the Yankees. I'm just sayin'. It was like watching
college baseball. The defense was indecisive and clumsy. But I
digress.) I wasn't sure who the home plate umpire was. (I learned later
it was Dale Scott.) Jona had my bag, and she was waiting for
me in the outfield...and in my bag was a complete MLB umpire roster.
Damn! And then, to make matters worse, three kids ran down to the
spot where the umps were going to walk off the field. I watched as the
ump handed balls to all the kids, and then I said, "Hey, Blue, how
about a ball for a big kid?" He looked up at me, took one last ball out
of his pouch, and flipped it into my glove. Yes!
I raced to the other end of the dugout, just as I had planned, and
right after I got there, someone on the team (I think it was Rauch)
flung a ball well over my head and deep into the section. Crap. I
turned around to see who it had been thrown to, only to realize that
the seats were empty! I was trapped in the middle of a row, so I had to
climb over the seats. There was one other guy on the aisle who was also
running for the ball, and he beat me there easily. That deflated me.
Now, even if I somehow managed to get both of those balls out of the
gap (which seemed highly unlikely), I'd still fall short of 20.
Hmm...
I headed back through the cross-aisle toward the outfield. A security
guard stopped me and told me I had to leave. I told him that I need to
meet up with my friends in left-center field, and it was true. Jona, of course,
had my backpack, and Garrett was out
there too, along with Bob and Kathi. They all wanted to see how this
was gonna play out.
My eyes lit up when I approached the left field bullpen. For some
reason, the Diamondbacks had left TWO balls sitting on the mound, right
below the overhang of the front row of the seats, but how was I
going to use the glove trick and not get caught? A groundskeeper
appeared out of nowhere and started walking toward the balls. There
were a few little kids standing right near me, so I was pretty sure
I was screwed. No way the guy was gonna toss one to me. I just knew it,
and sure enough, the first ball was tossed up to the kid on my right.
Somehow...miraculously...the ball fell short and bounced off a railing
and trickled along a little concrete ledge, right toward me, on the
center field side of the bullpen. That's where I was standing. It's kind
of hard to describe, but anyway, I lunged over the railing, and scooped
up the ball in the tip of my glove and immediately handed it to the
kid. I don't think I even took it out of my glove. I just reached over
and opened the glove and let the kid reach into the pocket and grab it. Even though the ball wasn't intended for me, and even though I
didn't end up keeping it, it still counted. It was my 18th ball of the
day. After that happy twist of fate, I really felt like I had a chance, and then another miracle
happened: the groundskeeper left the second ball sitting there. The
other fans had asked him for it, but he said he couldn't give it away
(sure), so most of them left. It was just me and Jona and Bob and
Garrett and Kathi and a couple other people who were still lingering. I
moved over to the front row of the overhang and quickly unleashed my
glove trick. Way off in center field, I could see a yellow-shirted
security guard walking toward me.
"Form a wall!" I yelled at my friends as my glove dangled 15 feet below. "Form a wall and block his view!"
Jona and Bob both moved to the side edge of the bullpen, and they both
took photos of me as I went for the ball. In both of the photos below,
you can see that I wasn't even looking down at the ball. Instead I was
looking off to the side to keep an eye on the security guard...
...and I managed to pull up the ball when he was less than 50 feet
away. Phew! I had my 19th ball of the day. Just one more! I quickly
coiled up the string and used my body to shield the glove so the guard
wouldn't even see it, and then he walked us all up the steps to the
main concourse in deep left field. Once we all reached the top, the
guard just walked off. He didn't tell us we had to leave. (He just
assumed that we would, I suppose.) So we found a bench and sat down and
contemplated the next move.
There were still a FEW other fans milling about at that point. Mostly,
though, there were just concession workers and seat cleaners passing
back and forth. No one stopped to ask us who we were or what we were
still doing in the stadium. No one told us to leave. At one point, we noticed a security camera mounted high across the concourse. That
made us a bit nervous, but no one ever came out to confront us.
Deep breath...
I grabbed an extra Sharpie from my backpack just in case, then left my
bag with my friends in the concourse and began my solo mission. I had
to go alone. One person was less likely to be seen/caught than five, so
they waited, out of sight, as I walked briskly down the steps, proceeded through the walkway behind the seats and headed to
the edge of the gap on the left field side of the batter's eye. I was
there. No security in sight. So far, so good. It was showtime...like
playing golf. No competition. Just me versus the course. I struggled
for a couple minutes with the first ball. Not good. It was a few feet
too far out for me to have a straight shot down, and it was also
trapped up against a small rock. Still, I couldn't figure out why I
wasn't able to get the ball to stick inside the glove. This was the
absolute WORST time for a malfunction. I'd used the trick hundreds of
times. Why was it giving me a problem now? I had no choice but to raise
the glove back up and readjust the rubber band. Maybe it was too loose?
That had to be it, so I took a look, and nearly had a panic attack. The
rubber band had broken and was dangling off the glove! It's a good thing it hadn't fallen into the gap because I stupidly hadn't
brought an extra one with me down into the seats. I had half a dozen

bands in my backpack, but as I mentioned, the bag was with my friends
in the concourse. I thought about hurrying back up there, getting a new
band, then going back down into the seats, but that seemed insane. It's
like I would've been ASKING to get caught, so I took the band and
tied the broken ends together. It was my only shot. And then I lowered
the glove back down into the gap. Well, it took another minute or so,
but then I got the ball to stick inside my glove! Twenty balls (with
twenty exclamation points)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I thought about just
getting the hell out of there at that point, but that one last ball was
too tempting, so I headed up the few steps, walked quickly behind the
batter's eye, and headed down beside the right field edge of the gap.
There it was, my potential 21st ball of the day, sitting there,
looking up at me, waiting to be rescued. I hoped that the rubber band
would hold...and it did...but once again, the ball was a few feet too
far out from the wall, and in my attempt to knock it closer, the
Sharpie fell out of my glove. Extra Sharpie! Thank God I'd brought it.
I didn't know it at the time, but Bob had crept out of the upper
concourse, just far enough that he could see me way off in the
distance, going for this ball. This was his view:
Did you see me in the photo above? Here's a closer look:
After another minute (during which I must've cursed about 20 times), I managed to snag the ball. Woo! Twenty-one!
Upon my return to the concourse, I posed with balls No. 20 and 21 and felt invincible:
I needed a moment to recover...to just sit there and label my last
two balls...to add to my long list of notes...to think about what I
wanted to do next. There weren't any other fans in the ballpark, but
there were still a few employees walking around. After a few minutes,
we saw an entire group of people in yellow shirts walking out the gate
in right field. It was the security guards! They were all leaving!
What
to do...
I was thinking about those balls in the gap. There were still ELEVEN
balls down in there, and it occurred to me that I might be able to get away
with climbing down in there and grabbing them and then running like
hell. Meanwhile, it was getting late. Bob and Kathi had to take off, so we said
our goodbyes, and then it was just three of us: me, Jona, and the
17-year-old Garrett.
For the past two days, I'd been talking about climbing down into the
gap, but it was more of a fantasy than a reality. I had to do TV
interviews, and I didn't want to jeopardize that by getting in trouble,
but like I said before, this was my last day. My last night. There was
nothing to lose. Well...if I got arrested and thrown in jail, that
wouldn't have been good, but it's not like I'd be running out onto the
field or vandalizing any property. It was just about the balls. And
about the
charity. And about doing something daring. And about breaking
my one-game record! I had managed to snag 28 balls in one day on
4/10/08 at Nationals Park.
I didn't think that record would ever be broken, but now I actually had
a chance to do it...and not just squeeze past it by a hair, but
actually surpass the 30-ball plateau. If I climbed down into the gap and
grabbed all the balls and managed to get away with it, would my record
be tainted? Would it have an asterisk? I wasn't sure, but I knew for a
fact that several legendary ballhawks on the west coast, like T.C. and
Lee Wilson, had snuck down after games into the gaps behind the
outfield walls and grabbed actual game home run balls that they counted
in their totals. And I know that some of the all-time great ballhawks
in Chicago, especially Moe Mullins, used to climb down into restricted
areas of Wrigley Field to do the same thing. I thought about all the
balls I'd snagged that I didn't count for various reasons, and I
thought about all the balls that security had prevented me from
snagging over the years. I thought about the guard at Shea Stadium,
back in the mid-1990s, who would stand on the field, right in front
of me in foul territory during BP, and kick the foul grounders away
before I had a chance to reach over and scoop them up. I thought about
the on-field guard at Yankee Stadium who once jumped up and swatted a
ball out of mid-air that a player had thrown to me, simply because he
didn't like me and didn't want me to catch it. I thought about every
single injustice that I had ever experienced inside a major league
stadium, and I thought, "Here's my chance to make up for
it."
But wait, how was I actually going to pull it off? Would I go alone?
Would Jona and/or Garrett come with me? Would I need help climbing back
out of the gap? How would I carry all the balls? Would I take my
backpack? Would I have to climb out with that heavy thing on my back?
What about labeling the balls? Would I actually stop and mark each one
as I grabbed them? Or would I put them into different pockets and
pouches and try to remember which one was which? If I actually managed
to climb down there and grab the balls and escape without getting
caught, would I then talk about it on my blog? Could I get in trouble
after the fact? I had reasons to go for it. I had reasons to chicken
out. I had an endless array of questions and--
"I really wish you would just do it already," said Jona.
Okay.
I was GOING to do it. I made up my mind. Now I just had to make some
quick decisions about how it would all go down. First of all, I decided
to turn my shirt inside out. That Mario logo was way too eye-catching.
Secondly, we all decided that the three of us would go back down into
the seats together. Garrett would toss my backpack down to me after I
climbed into the gap and then he'd meet me on the other end and I'd
toss it back up. Jona would follow us and film the whole thing. I
didn't know what I would ever do with the footage, but I knew it had to
be documented. As for the issue of labeling the balls, I decided that I
had to sacrifice that part of my process--that I just had to throw the
balls in my bag as quickly as possible and get the hell out, but I knew
I had to keep the last ball separate. I needed to know which ball was
THE final ball...the record-establishing ball.
And just like that, we
were off.
The following images are all screen shots from Jona's video.
Here I am with Garrett, heading through the walkway at the back of the
LF seats. The ground was wet because the fountains were overflowing,
presumably on purpose as a way to clean the section:
Here we are heading down the steps next to the gap:
Then I climbed down into the gap:
Garrett tossed me my backpack, and I reached up to catch it:
I hurried to the middle of the gap and picked up the first ball:
Fist pump:
Every time I grabbed a ball, I kept counting: twenty-two,
twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven,
twenty-eight, twenty-nine! Then thirty. I decided to stick that one in
my right front pocket. Then thirty-one. That went in my left front
pocket. And finally thirty-two. That went in my back right pocket. If
I'd remembered, I could've grabbed the Sharpie that had fallen out of
my glove 20 minutes earlier, but my mind was elsewhere.
Here I am climbing out of the gap:
There were metal beams on back of the outfield wall, so I
stepped on those and hoisted myself up without Garrett's help. Ahh, to
be young and fit! I normally take it for granted, but now I finally
appreciated it and realized that when I'm 90 years old, similar
shenanigans will be much more difficult.
Jona headed up the steps and hurried behind the batter's eye to catch up with us...
...and then we walked through the upper porch in right field...
...and headed up the steps...
...and ran like hell through the concourse...
...and made our way out the open gate...
...and walked around to the back of the stadium:
We did it!
I had snagged THIRTY-TWO baseballs!
This was my reaction:
Here I am with Garrett and the 32nd ball:
My God.
I hope I don't get busted for blogging about this after the fact. In my defense, I was doing it for
charity,
and also, the way I see it, I did the Royals a service. Not only did I
risk my own life, free of charge, to climb down in there and clean out
the balls so that one of their employees wouldn't have to do it, but
I've simultaneously encouraged baseball fans all over the world to
visit Kauffman Stadium. No joke. I've gotten at least a dozen emails
this week from people who've told me that after reading my blog entries
and seeing my photos of the place, they're dying to go there.
Don't you love my logic?
Two of the balls from the gap caught my eye. First (pictured below on
the left), there was my 30th ball of the day, which had a really cool
series of streak-like markings on it, and second, there was a ball (one
of the eight that I didn't label, pictured below on the right) that was
rubbed up and un-scuffed, just as a game-used ball would be:
So the question is: Is it possible that I grabbed a game home run ball
and don't even know it? When I first entered Kauffman Stadium on
Tuesday, June 16th, there were already half a dozen balls in the gap.
Who knows how long they'd been there? Why couldn't a game home run have
landed there? Does anyone know if any players hit homers to dead center
field in the days before June 16th? It would be interesting to know,
and if the answer is yes, I might need to recruit a forensic scientist
to determine if there are woody fibers on the ball that match the
fibers on that player's bat.
My 32nd and final ball of the day was not interesting in comparison to
the two pictured above, but obviously it was the most meaningful, and I
had to find a special way to photograph it. At first, this was the best
I could come up with...
...but then Garrett had an idea. He told me and Jona to get in his
car, and he drove around to the other side of the stadium. It was well
past midnight by this point. He had to be at work at 6am. Jona and I
were exhausted and starving. I was tempted to take a few quick pics of
the ball and go back to the hotel, but when I mentioned the option of
using the balls to actually spell out the number 32 (aka
"balligraphy"), Garrett convinced me to do it.
Here I am, setting them all up in the middle of the road...
...and here's the fruit of my labor (and of Jona's patience):
Cool.
In case you're wondering, the three balls on the right are in Ziploc
bags because those were the balls I fished out of the fountain. They
were soaked to the core, so I kept them sealed until I could properly
dry them out. And of course there are only 31 balls in the photo
because I gave one away.
Thursday, June 18, 2009: wow...
SNAGGING STATS:
• 32 balls at this game

• 59 balls in three games this week at Kauffman Stadium = 19.67 balls
per game. (My notes for all these balls are pictured on the right.)
• 279 balls in 31 games this season = 9 balls per game.
• 600 consecutive games with at least one ball
• 166 consecutive games outside of New York with at least one ball
• 107 lifetime games with at least 10 balls
• 47 lifetime games outside of New York with at least 10 balls
• 4 lifetime games with at least 20 balls (all of which, surprise-surprise, were outside of New York)
• 4,099 total balls
CHARITY STATS:• 110 donors (
click here and scroll down for the complete list)
• $24.16 pledged per ball
• $773.12 raised at this game!
• $6,740.64 raised this season for
Pitch In For BaseballA few final thoughts...
1) It occurred to me that I probably would've snagged more than 35 balls if I'd been going for foul balls and third-out balls all night, but I did what I had to do. I was in a home run haven, and I stuck to my game plan, never even contemplating my one-game record until the very end.
2) It also occurred to me that this is the first time I've ever out-snagged my age. You follow? I'm thirty-one years old, and I managed to snag thirty-two balls. I'd have to say it's pretty rare for anyone to out-snag their age. Think about it. How likely is it that a five-year-old could snag six balls? Not very. How likely is it for anyone to snag 15 or 20 balls? Or 30? Again, not likely. I'd say the only people who have a real shot at out-snagging their age are probably young teenagers. By the time someone is 13 years old, he (or she) is just getting big enough and athletic enough and strategic enough to be able to make some good plays and outsmart the competition. Have YOU ever out-snagged your age? I think we might have a new category here--something ultra-rare, like hitting for the cycle. I wonder if I'll ever do it again.
3) This blog entry, for those keeping score at home, is 7,714 words and has 83 photographs (if you count the collage pics separately). These too, are records.
The End.