Check out the new Yankee Stadium. It's coming along. Not quite as fast as Citi Field, but construction is definitely in full swing...

Anyway, I attended this game for ONE reason: to try to catch A-Rod's 500th career home run.

I knew there'd be a huge crowd, but I had no idea what seats--if any--would be available 90 minutes before the stadium opened, so when I walked up to the ticket window I said, "This may be a dumb question, but do you have anything available in left field?"

"We've been getting that question a lot," said the woman with a smile. "How many do you need?"

I told her I just needed one, but that I wanted to be right behind the main aisle and that I needed to be on the end of a row. She typed a bunch of stuff into her computer and came up with a ticket for me in the perfect spot. First row behind the aisle in the middle of left field, and she assured me it was an end seat. I was stunned.

"How much is it?" I asked.

"Sixty-three," she said.

Ouch.

I was afraid that stadium security would lock down the entire section for A-Rod's at-bats, so I bought the ticket and quickly found myself hoping that security would be extremely strict.

I started out in right field for batting practice, and within the first 10 minutes, I caught a ground-rule double off the bat of Hideki Matsui. The seats and aisle were already so crowded by that point that I considered myself lucky. A few minutes later, I used my glove trick to snag another, and it had a weird green marking on it. I've seen this type of marking before, but I've never been able to figure out what causes it. Any theories?

By 5:30pm, the right field seats had become impossibly crowded, and all the Yankees were batting right-handed, so I headed to the dugout. Of course I couldn't get anywhere near it (that's how it always is at Yankee Stadium, even during BP), so I tried shouting at the players and coaches from 15 rows back. This lame strategy worked at AT&T Park on All-Star Sunday, but it didn't get me anything in the Bronx.

The White Sox started hitting, and I decided to give left field a rare try. It seemed like a good idea to familiarize myself with judging fly balls out there, but as soon as I reached the foul pole, I remembered what a disaster that side of the stadium is. Monument Park. It's a huge tourist attraction. It stays open until 45 minutes before game time and ruins BP because there are hundreds of people who line up for it in the otherwise glorious aisle that cuts through the left field seats. To make matters worse, security had blocked off the line with an tight row of folding metal chairs. AND...the other half of the aisle was blocked by wannabe ball-snaggers standing behind the railings and other fans walking to their seats. And speaking of seats, they were full. There was literally no place to go. It was a nightmare, and I didn't get another ball for the rest of BP.

Two nice things happened between BP and the game:

1) The Yankees unfurled a white cloth hanging high atop the white facade in left center field, revealing the logo for the 2008 All-Star Game.

2) I was able to sneak past security and enter the heavily-guarded seats along the left field foul line. (Yes, the guards now check tickets all the way out to the foul pole.) Then I was able to walk through the seats and work my way toward shallow left field, where Jerry Owens was playing catch with Josh Fields. When they finished, a dozen little kids shrieked for their autographs. Owens tucked the ball in his glove and came over. I didn't bother asking him to sign. Instead I asked him if there was any chance he could spare the ball. He nodded and kept signing for the kids, and when he was done, he placed the ball in my open glove.

It turned out that my sixty-three-dollar seat was NOT on the end of the row. There were two fat guys (without gloves) on my left and a Spanish-speaking family of four (no gloves, but several hand-held video games) on my right. I was trapped, so I brazenly asked the family if I could have the end seat. They shrugged and looked at each other, then moved over and let me have it. Just like that. It was too good to be true. The view was amazing. The aisle was empty. I was so happy and thankful that I bought them a $5.50 bag of Cracker Jacks. All I needed was security to do its job and keep everyone in their seats and out of my way.

So much for that.

As soon as A-Rod stepped into the batters box, hundreds of people flooded the section. The staircases were packed. The aisle evaporated. Everyone was standing and taking photos and talking about what they were gonna do with the ball. The place was buzzing like I'd never seen, which I suppose would've been fun had I not been trying to make the snag of my life, but as things were, I was thoroughly miserable. If the ball had been hit to my section, I wouldn't have been able to move more than five feet for it, and if it even came within five feet of me, I would've drowned in the sea of humanity. A-Rod ended up flying to right on a 3-2 pitch, and I promptly filed a complaint with security. Security shrugged.

Then a bunch of people showed up and said I was sitting in their seats.

"There must be some mistake," I said and asked to see their tickets.

No mistake. The family of four was in the wrong spot, and they weren't even close. They were supposed to be in the Loge (second deck) on the first base side. Off they went with the Cracker Jacks, and I had a choice: slide in to the middle of the row or start roaming.

I chose the latter and hated every minute of the rest of the night. I went to right field for A-Rod's next at-bat. I knew he wasn't likely to homer in that direction, so I figured there wouldn't be many people going for the ball there. WRONG. The tunnel had been nice and empty for Bobby Abreu's at-bat, but as soon as A-Rod came up, dozens of fans came out of nowhere and clogged up every inch of real estate. Then, to make matters worse, security locked a chain in place that prevented the people in the tunnel from spilling out into the (cramped) aisle behind the outfield wall. I was at the front of the tunnel with my view of the outfield half-blocked, so when A-Rod connected and sent a deep fly ball to center, I gently stepped over the chain to see where it was going to land. Owens made the catch, and the security guard got up in my face and yelled, "DO THAT AGAIN AND YOU'LL BE OUT OF THE STADIUM!!!"

It was at that moment that I made a very important decision: if I caught A-Rod's 500th home run, one of my demands in giving the ball back to him would be that the security guard be fired.

I went back to left field for A-Rod's third at-bat and tried the tunnel down the left field line. The good news was that the back of the tunnel was empty, so if A-Rod hooked a deep fly ball JUST inside the foul pole, I'd be able to back up and make a relatively easy catch. The bad news (other than the fact that this was highly unlikely) was that I couldn't see A-Rod.

The Yankees beat the White Sox, 16-3, and tied a franchise record by hitting eight home runs. A-Rod, hitless in 17 at-bats since his 499th home run, finished 0-for-5 and was replaced at 3rd base by Chris Basak in the top of the eighth inning.

I can't wait to go back to Yankee Stadium later today...

STATS:

• 157 balls in 23 games this season = 6.8 balls per game.

• 478 consecutive games with at least one ball

• 53,958 fans at this game

• 3,118 total balls

Normally I'm a good sleeper. I stay up until I'm dead tired, pass right out, and curse the alarm about seven hours later. But last night, I tried to go to bed early and kept waking up every hour or two. I kept dreaming about Yankee Stadium, dreaming about the left field seats, dreaming about A-Rod's 500th homer. I must've had the dream half a dozen times, and it kept changing. In one dream, the left field seats were empty, and I was allowed to stand in the aisle. In another, security wouldn't let me anywhere near the section. In another, Don Mattingly was batting right-handed, and I was all excited at the idea of catching one of HIS home runs. I'm afraid I'm going crazy. And I'm even more afraid that the game is going to be sold out, or that security will be extremely strict. I went to the Yankees clubhouse store yesterday to ask about tickets. I thought I'd save some of the hassle by buying mine a day early. Instead, I was told that they don't have anything until August 16th. I asked if there'd be individual seats for sale at the stadium ticket windows, and the guy shrugged. I'm paranoid. I'm jittery. I can hardly eat. WHY?! It's just a baseball. The average team goes though 36,000 of them every season, so why is THIS one turning me into a one-man psych ward? At least the weather is perfect, and it's supposed to stay that way for the next few days. I have no idea what to expect once I get to the stadium. I'm already nervous as hell, and I still have half an hour before I even leave my apartment...

I'm going to Yankee Stadium tomorrow to try to catch A-Rod's 500th career home run. Rain or shine. I don't care. I'll be there. I might attend all six games of the homestand. Even afternoon games. Even on Saturday and Sunday. I've cleared my entire schedule for the week. I've been thinking about this opportunity for a very long time. The only problem is...I still can't decide what to do with the ball if I catch it so I'm wondering, what would YOU do?

Assuming you wouldn't keep the ball, would you give it back to A-Rod? What would you ask for in return? Would you sell it? How much do you think it'll be worth?

What would you do if you caught Barry Bonds' 756th home run?

Gustavo Chacin, the "man" who stole a ball from me on 8/1/06 at Yankee Stadium, is still suffering from the Hample Jinx.

Last week the Blue Jays sent him down to Triple-A Syracuse to rehab his ailing left shoulder, and in his first start he lasted just three innings and got tagged with the loss after giving up three runs on five hits.

Last night, he pitched again and got the hook after just 2 2/3 innings, during which he allowed four runs on four hits and two walks.

Congratulations, Gus. After two starts in the Minor Leagues, your ERA is 11.12.

Billy Wagner tossed me a ball within the first few minutes of batting practice, but his aim was off. I was in the corner spot of the right field Loge, and the ball sailed over my head and landed in the Mets' bullpen. Wagner didn't even apologize or look for another ball--at least not at first, but eventually he wandered into the bullpen, and when I shouted down and asked him for another chance, he walked over to the ball and threw it right to me. Once I labeled the ball with a "3110" and made a separate note of how I'd snagged it, I walked along the front row and peeked down into the narrow, cluttered gap behind the outfield wall. I always do that in case there's a loose ball lying around and usually it doesn't do me any good, but this time my eyes lit up...

There was a small wooden platform surrounding the foul pole, and for whatever reason, there was a ball resting on top of it. I set up my glove trick and let out all the string (to make sure it wasn't tangled) before lowering it. Then I leaned way out to get my dangling glove over the lower portion of the foul pole and dropped it carefully over the ball, which turned out to be damp and heavy. It also smelled like mold, and in addition to that, its logo was mis-stamped and printed so high that it barely overlapped the stitching. Autograph collectors hate balls like that. I love them.

Twenty minutes later Orlando Hernandez finished his bullpen session and started throwing balls at one of the metal poles that supports the protective screen. Bullpen catcher Dave Racaniello joined him and began chucking balls as well. Most of their throws missed the pole and hit the short picket fence, but one ball glanced off the pole and ricocheted onto the concrete surface at the back corner of bullpen. When their target practice concluded, pitching coach Rick Peterson retrieved the one loose ball, and I called down and got him to toss it up to me.

The rest of Mets BP was dead, but I did get to meet a guy named Gavriel who's been reading my blog since 2005. One of the Mets photographers happened to come around and ask if we wanted our pic taken for mets.com. I said "no thanks," knowing that it was just a ploy to get us to go to the site and spend money, but Gavriel was up for it. I made faces behind his back, and the pic you see here on the left was the result. (Check out my snazzy All-Star Game t-shirt, courtesy of Brad.) Later on, I met another blog reader named Andre.

When the Pirates took the field, I raced to the left field Loge because a Japanese pitcher named Masumi Kuwata was playing catch in front of the warning track. I knew his name, I had a glove, I was wearing a Pirates cap, and I spoke his language. It was basically an automatic ball, and as soon as he threw it to me, the man on my left turned and said, "How about a ball for my son? It's his 11th birthday."

I haaaaate it when people ask me for a ball when they haven't even made an attempt to get one for themselves. All I could think was, "How about you and your son learn the players' names, bring gloves, wear Pirates caps, learn to speak Japanese, and stop wasting the corner spot?"

Instead, I told them that they needed to speak up and ask the players for a ball, and that if they weren't able to get one on their own, I'd try to get one for them...and whaddaya know...within a few minutes they got one of the Pirates pitchers to toss one up. Funny how that works.

I used my glove trick again toward the end of BP, and I got my sixth ball from Jack Wilson before the game at the Pirates' dugout. I was the ONLY fan there with a glove, and I was the ONLY person who even stood up and asked for the ball, and yet everyone around me complained when I got it. (Sometimes I'm embarrassed to be a New Yorker.) All three balls I got from the Pirates had an "X" marked on the sweet spot.

I was hoping for a quick game because I had to leave Shea by 9:30pm because I had to get to a party in Manhattan. But no. Both teams loaded the bases in the first inning, and I was en route to being screwed. It didn't really matter because Tom Glavine was only going for his 299th career win, but it still would've been nice to be there for the final out.

I came close to a few foul balls, but the only thing I got during the game was a nice view of Citi Field rising up in the background...

...and as soon as Glavine completed his six-inning performance, I had to leave...

The following afternoon, I heard that the Mets had won.

STATS:

• 154 balls in 22 games this season = 7 balls per game.

• 477 consecutive games with at least one ball

• 2 consecutive games with at least six balls

• 3,115 total balls...moves me ahead of Dave Winfield (3,110) and into 19th place on the all-time hits list. Next up is Tony Gwynn (3,141).

Ohhh, man...

I was all set to go to Baltimore today (with my girlfriend) to make an attempt at catching A-Rod's 500th career home run, but I changed my mind after checking out the weather forecast...

Specifically, there's a 50 percent chance of rain from 4-7pm, which is right when the two teams would be taking batting practice, but there are other reasons why I'm staying home:

1) Weekend traffic on the New Jersey Turnpike.
2) Huge crowd for the Yankees, combined with "student discount night."
3) The completion of a suspended game making everything more complicated.
4) Being insanely busy.
5) Feeling mostly exhausted.

It's really a shame. I had my whole strategy planned out. Last night I got A-Rod's "scatter plot" on Hit Tracker and resized it with Photoshop so it fit perfectly on top of a Camden Yards seating chart. Check it out:

Now I can only watch on TV and hope that A-Rod goes homerless for the next three days.

In other disappointing news...
I can't find a flight to Milwaukee for less than $475. I was hoping to fly out of NYC at around noon on Tuesday, July 31st, get to Miller Park in time for batting practice, watch Tom Glavine pick up his 300th win, and fly back to NYC that night at around 1am. Would've been cool to get on a plane without a toothbrush or a change of clothes, but maybe it's just as well. If A-Rod somehow stays in the yard through the weekend, he'll be going for #500 in the Bronx on the 31st. I don't know what to do. Can anyone find a cheaper roundtrip flight to Milwaukee?

Finally, in case you're interested, I wrote two feature stories last night for minorleaguebaseball.com. HERE and HERE they are.

(Oh...and I plan to post my Shea entry late tonight so check back in before you go to bed.)

I picked this game because I figured there'd be a small crowd, but no, there were 40,108 other fans who were interested in seeing the Nationals on a Tuesday night. Good for the Phillies. Good for Major League Baseball. Bad for me and my mom. We hadn't been to a game together since my 28th birthday. That was at Shea Stadium. This was the first time that the two of us had taken a road trip to a game. No special occasion. The weather was gorgeous, and we were both free, and it was a good excuse to hang out for 12 hours.

The left field seats started filling up fast, and there wasn't much action. Within the first five minutes, however, I managed to stretch across the flower bed (in front of the first row) and use my glove trick to pluck a ball off the warning track.

Ten minutes later, a righty on the Phillies crushed a deep drive toward the foul pole. I sprinted through an entire row of seats as the ball sailed 20 feet over my head and bounced to the back of the section. Two fans lunged for it and missed. The ball hit a metal beam and ricocheted to the side. The fans chased it through the last row and were about to snatch it when the ball trickled down one step and into my waiting hands. I love gravity.

Soon after the Nationals took the field, I had a chance to get another ball with my glove trick in left-center when an old man with a cup trick appeared out of nowhere. I was annoyed, but quickly accepted the fact that he had as much of a right as I did to go for it. The ensuing competition was fair and good-natured and lots of fun--and interrupted by Nook Logan who walked over and stuck the ball inside the cup.

"Nook! How could you do that to me?!" I said.

Nook looked up, saw my Nationals cap, told me he'd get me a ball, and did. Thirty seconds later, I was eyeing another ball on the warning track when I sensed the people around me getting ready for something, so I looked up and saw a ball flying right toward me and reached out and caught it. It was a homer. I have no idea who hit it...and 30 seconds after that, all the fans in the front row started yelling yelling at Dmitri Young for the ball on the track. Unfortunately for them, it wasn't Dmitri Young.

"Ray King!" I shouted. "I know your name! How about a ball?!"

He threw it to me without hesitating, and all the fans protested. I was tempted to protest, too, because the Nationals were using those cheap blue training balls.

I got my sixth ball of the day from Mike Bacsik in right field and got my seventh from the ever-dependable Manny Acta.

My mom saw me get every ball because she'd been following me from section to section. She was such a good sport...she even got up and moved around with me during the game, which was great because our seats were in a lousy spot, and I didn't want to abandon her.

We started on the first base side of home plate, then moved to the third base side, then got kicked out of the section and went back to the first base side, and we ended up about a dozen rows behind the Nationals' dugout.

I was rooting for the Nats, but Aaron Rowand untied the game with a solo homer in the bottom of the eighth. Final score: Phillies 4, Nationals 3.

I got my eighth and final ball of the day at the dugout after the game. It was flipped up from underneath the roof so I have no idea who tossed it.

What a great day. The two-hour car rides were nearly as fun as the game itself.

STATS:

• 148 balls in 21 games this season = 7.047619 balls per game.

• 476 consecutive games with at least one ball

• 98 consecutive games outside of New York with at least one ball

• 650 lifetime balls outside of New York

• 15 balls from Manny Acta since 2003

• 3,109 total balls

JTA.org ran a piece yesterday about Barry Bonds' pursuit of the home run record, and they consulted me as the "expert." If you go to the site and do a search for my name, the story should pop up...and then you'll have to take 20 seconds to go through the free registration process to read it. Since then, I've gotten two other interview requests, including one from a writer at the San Francisco Chronicle who wants me to come up with 8 to 10 tips for catching the record-breaking home run...but I can't come up with the tips now because I'm leaving for Shea Stadium in 15 minutes, during which time I have to call Ron Kaplan, a fellow MLBlogger, who wants to interview me for the New Jersey Jewish News. I have to be at a party back in Manhattan by like 10pm tonight, so I won't even be able to stay for the whole game, and I still haven't had a chance to start writing about yesterday's game in Philly, nor have I gotten to read the dozens of emails I've received in the last day or two, so if you're waiting for a reply from me, you might need to wait a few more days until things calm down a bit. Of course I have to work all night tomorrow at MiLB.com, and then I'm thinking about driving to Camden on Friday. Then I have non-baseball plans (imagine THAT) all day on Saturday, and do I want to fly to Milwaukee on July 31st to watch Glavine go for win #300? Probably not, and anyway, he'd have to win tonight, and on the 1st I might be busy chasing A-Rod's 500th. AAAAHHHH!!!! By the way, the article on JTA.org has a few mistakes which will hopefully get corrected soon.

Alex Rodriguez has 498 career home runs, and the Yankees are about to start a seven-game road trip against two lousy teams: the Royals and Orioles. I'm afraid he's gonna tee off and reach the milestone before coming back to the Bronx, so I'm already thinking about driving down to Camden Yards on Friday if he rolls in at 499. Sadly, that's the only game I can possibly attend before the Yankees' next home game on July 31.
I don't expect to catch A-Rod's 500th homer. I'm just hoping for a chance to be there when he hits it, and if I am, I'll have to figure out where to sit. But will there even be an empty seat? And if there is, will security be checking tickets 400 feet from home plate? I have no idea what to expect, so I'm using A-Rod's scatter plot on Hit Tracker to help shape my preliminary strategy...

As for Barry Bonds and his 756th homer...whatever. He's gonna hit it in San Francisco, and I won't be there. My friend Brad will, and if he doesn't catch it, I hope the ball somehow bounces back onto the field and disintegrates--or lands in McCovey Cove and sinks. Anyway, A-Rod's going to pass Bonds in about seven years so who cares?

As for the near future...
If the weather improves, I'll be at tomorrow night's game in Philadelphia with my mom. The following day, there's a chance I'll be at Shea, but I won't know 'til the last minute. The main issue is that I'd have to leave the game about two hours after the first pitch, so I'm not sure I want to go at all. This whole week is out-of-control busy so it might be a few days before I post my next entry.

(Here's the latest review of my book, in case you want to check it out.)

Some teams mark the sweet spot on their baseballs to discourage employees from stealing them and getting them signed. I've snagged a bunch of marked balls over the years, but I've never seen one like this:

It was snagged in Milwaukee by a woman named Sue who got in touch (after she saw me on TV at the Home Run Derby) and asked if I knew what "Cha" meant. She said, "I got this tossed to me from Nilson Robledo from the Nationals in 2006, who got it from another player."

I'm stumped. Any theories?

1) A few nights ago, a minor leaguer named Logan Parker hit two three-run homers in one inning. I interviewed him and wrote the story for MiLB.com.

2) Several journalists at the Salt Lake Tribune recently tracked every homer and foul ball hit during a Bees (Triple-A) game at Franklin Covey Field and interviewed the people who snagged them. Thanks to Jim in Utah for sending me the link.

3) Last week, a guy named John M. Setzler Jr. reviewed my book on the blog he writes about the Hickory Crawdads, a Class A team in the South Atlantic League.

4) In last week's issue of "New York" Magazine, there was a fan's guide to Shea and Yankee Stadiums which covered things like transportation, tickets, food, ballpark etiquette, getting on TV, how to heckle fans who root for the visiting team, and so on. I was consulted for the snagging portion, and here's how the first page turned out.

Did you notice the mistake? It's really small. You'd have to be familiar with Yankee Stadium to find it.

A couple months ago, I was interviewed for a Japanese magazine called "Sportiva." I finally got the article translated, and the result is hilarious (if not a bit disturbing). Check it out...
----------------------------------------

American Sports Now vol. 61

The Major League's biggest topic this season is, of course, 'Matsuzaka'.

If you watch the game on TV, don't miss the voice from the stand speaking in funny Japanese, "Chotto bouru nagete Kudasai" which means, "Excuse me, please throw me the ball."

You can hear it when Matsuzaka finishes warming up in the bull pen, or on his way from the pitcher's mound to the dugout.

That's Zack Hample's voice. He's the man who has collected 2,961 major league balls.

Last year Zack directly caught Barry Bond's home run ball at Petco Park in San Diego. That moment was televised, and his only remarkable catch on record. He's gathered half of his near 3,000 balls by catching foul balls that came into the stands.

When he was 12 years old his parents took him to the 'New York Mets vs. St. Louis Cardinals' game at Shea Stadium in New York. During their batting practice, Zack caught a ball as it came into the stand. Since then he has become maniacal.

The next year he gathered 14 balls. And by the age of 14, he'd collected 128 balls.

He went to see 450 games and never missed getting at least one ball at each game for 16 years. He made many efforts to get balls. If the next batter was right-handed, he'd run to the left stand. If left-handed, he ran to the other side.

For that purpose, it's very important to gather data on each player in the batter's line up. Moreover, he came to read each team's signs to guess how the pitcher would throw a ball and how the batter would hit a ball.

He gathered one third of his collection by asking the players.

He's studied foreign languages like Spanish and Yiddish, and in order to get player's balls, he can

say the one sentence "Excuse me, please give me your ball" in more than 27 languages. He even learned sign language for Curtis Pride, a deaf player. Of course he's studied Japanese because of the Major League's acquisition of so many Japanese players.

Zach asked Nomo for his ball in 1998, but another fan got it. He say's, "I have only one ball from a Japanese player, Kaz Matsui. I think it'll be very difficult to get one from Matsuzaka.

Zack goes to 30 stadiums for his collection and knows each one of them very well. Being born in New York, he's a big fan of the New York Mets. However, he's collected caps from all the teams. When he has to run to both sides of the stands after balls, he changes caps as he goes.

In April 2004, at the Mets vs. Expos game, Zack got 19 balls! That was a new personal record.

Some people hate him. They call him "dirty ball collector." They even stopped him from entering Shea Stadium. He says he doesn't bother other fans, and sometimes gives his balls to children.

"When I catch a ball, I feel like a player," he says.

He wrote two books on his experiences, calling himself a "free writer."

And what about the 'private life' of the "King of Snag" who's travels all over America for his collection? "I have my girlfriend who has no interest in baseball. As long as she loves me, I'm happy." "It's hard to have both a love relationship and a hobby of snagging balls. But doing the best of both makes it worth it."

Larger Headlines:

The maniacal collector of nearly 3000 baseballs is now seeking Matsuzaka

You must respect his devotion. Even after he was ordered not to enter the stadium, he still persists.

You can see him going after the ball somewhere. When watching TV from now on, this will become another point of interest to look for.

I try to answer all the comments I get on this blog, but every now and then, life gets so busy that I truly don't have the time. All-Star Week was one of those times, and I fell way behind on the comments, but I promised everyone that I'd catch up and answer them at some point, so here we go...
----------------------------------------------------------
July 10, 2007 -- Just checking in...

CUBS0110-
Yup, I've already counted the Derby balls in my collection, but I'm still not sure whether to count the Morneau homer as a game ball. Soriano would've been an unlikely guy to hit me a homer since he's a righty and I was stuck in right-center field. No Mays balls for me. I wonder if those were All-Star balls or regular balls or what.

JOHN-
Thanks, but I can't take credit for single-handedly making the Derby exciting.

MIKE.LOS-
Perhaps other people are more likely to get hit by lightning than catch a ball on national TV, but as cocky and egomaniacal as it may sound, I was really expecting to catch one. More than one actually. I was so disappointed when all the lefties choked because I was sure I'd get at least one or two more homers in that spot. (By now you know how many balls I got during BP.) "Ship out of luck." Nice. The tickets were given to me by a friend, so I didn't have to pay anything or worry about how far in advance to start looking. Crazy, huh?

CHARLIE-
I hadn't thought of that...catching the first and the last one. That would've been sweet!

RAMONES-
You mean you thought of me as soon as the ball left that bat? Cool. And thanks. I'm glad you were watching.

JOHNMCRAE1-
I didn't know that about Amazon. Thanks for pointing that out.

EVAN.BIZZZ-
Sadly, the All-Star Game was about as bad as it gets (in terms of snagging, that is).

ETHAN-
"Woooot!" indeed. Well said.

DILBERT195-
Aw, shux. Thanks so much.

PSU532-
Yeah, I was staying pretty close to all the action, but as you may have read by now in my entry about the Home Run Derby, some guys (like Tony Gwynn) weren't signing.

GREG-
Yeah, great. Everyone got to see how frustrated I was.

NCSUWOLFPACK92-
Good to know. Thanks. I still haven't seen a tape of the game, and I'm not sure I even want to--except for maybe getting to see what Ichiro's inside-the-parker actually looked like.

TSWECHTENBERG-
My begging was caught on camera? Oh jeez. I waved to him in Japanese. I didn't realize until now that you were the first one who posted a comment about my big snag.

AAAAAAAAAAAA4082-
The "dude" running around the stands was definitely not me. I stayed right near my ticketed seat, but I know who you're talking about.

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July 9, 2007 -- NYC to San Francisco

TSWECHTENBERG-
I think a red cap would've been overkill.

PUCK COLLECTOR-
So you recommend the iPhone, huh? I did have to stay in my section during BP. I did okay there during the Derby, but the section was brutal at the All-Star Game. The look on my face was ridiculous. It's like I didn't know where to look.

PSU532-
Close. Red Sox, Mets, Angels, Padres. I should've brought a Tigers cap. Verlander was near me during BP before the All-Star Game, and he tossed his ball to someone else after scanning the crowd to find a worthy recipient.

LALEPH-
Heh. No joke.

JOHNJAMAHONEY-
Why...thank you.

MSTADLEN-
Hopefully you're speaking again by now.

STEDFUNK-
Are you new on the blog? I don't remember seeing your email address before. Either way, I'm glad you saw me.

ALEX-
That's true. I owe an awful lot to San Francisco...my two biggest snags, in fact. You got great eyes if you saw me "shuffling" for the Rios ball. That's exactly what I was doing.

JONELI-
Great description of my reaction. When I first read it, I was back in my hotel room after the Derby, and I had no idea how I'd reacted after catching the ball, or what the camera might've showed, so this was great. When's your next game?

GREG-
Aww, you don't like the shirt? I was thinking about wearing it to Shea every day from now on.

CUBS0110-
Thanks.

STEVE-
Awesome. I'm glad I came through for you.

JOHN-
Excellent idea. Thanks for doing that. I read the whole entry when I got back to NYC, and it was really entertaining.

CHRIS-
Glad you saw it (and I'm glad I was wearing that shirt). The ball has already become an official part of my collection.

EVAN FROM SHEA-
God, I haven't seen you in forever. What's going on? I seriously need to get back to Shea soon, but I've been so busy, and a lot of the home games have recently been on weekends. For the last month, I'd been planning to go to the game on July 25th, but then I got invited to a couple other things at the last second--things I really shouldn't miss--but if Glavine ends up going for his 300th win that day, how could I miss that?! I'm in a tough spot. Anyway, thanks. Hope to see you soon. If not on the 25th, then maybe three days later, but do I really want to be at Shea on a Saturday? Uh, not really. Maybe August 7th or 8th. Ouch. That's a long time from now.

NICK-
Where the hell have you been? When are you going to post that long-promised blog entry about your baseball trip?

SAMMY-
Thanks very much.

NCSUWOLFPACK-
Hard to say. Teams are most likely to skip BP before a day game when they've played the night before, and that's the situation you'll be dealing with on July 29th. If the game on the 28th doesn't last too long, that'll help your chances of getting some BP the next day. But even if there's no BP, the players will still come out and throw, which is not nearly as fun, but at least you'll have some chances to get a ball.

MUNKITTR-
I didn't get punched, and I haven't seen the footage, so I'm not sure who you're talking about. Are you talking about the guy who ran right up to me from the left after I made my catch?

CP-
Thanks sooooo much for putting that clip on YouTube. Unfortunately, the folks at MLB have already taken it down due to copyright issues, but during the day it was up, my dad took it upon himself to share it with everyone he knows. Anyway, I now have the clip on my own site, and anyone can view it by clicking HERE.

TSWECHTENBERG-
I love you.

HDAVID27-
Thanks for counting, and thanks for the advice about the bullpen. That's pretty funny. I did see the grass pattern.

MARKSHARK22-
It was hit by Justin Morneau, and no, I didn't use the glove trick. I caught it on a fly.

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July 6, 2007 -- Look for me on TV...

JOHNMCRAE1-
As it turned out, the glove trick was barely a factor thanks to overly strict security. I was excited to see the young Mets in the All-Star Game--Reyes and Wright--plus Manny and Ichiro who are also favorites.

GREG-
I think you set the record for the longest comment ever. I did a word count: 1,262 words. My lord. Anyway, I know the feeling about waking up at home and thinking about seeing a game so far away later on in the same day. Coors DOES look like Camden on the outside. Good call. Very cool that you got HoJo to hit you a fungo. I've had coaches do that before, and it's always lots of fun. One time at Kauffman Stadium (check out this horribly dorky pic from the trip), Billy Hatcher kept hitting fungos into the seats after BP, and I got three of them. So you were 40 feet up when you used the cup for your 199th career ball? You were much higher up than the Loge at Shea, right? Congrats on your 200th ball. I remember mine vividly. It was a foul ball during the game hit by Walt Weiss at Shea. Fireworks are the worst, and the usher who stopped you from using the trick sounds just as bad. Funny about the Mets "exploding for two runs." So wait...some other kid was trying to challenge you for a ball that was being returned to you? What the ****. At how many MLB stadiums have you now snagged a ball?

PUCK COLLECTOR-
I'd say it's more scary than interesting about the security situation at Coors. It makes me worry about Citi Field. I don't know what I'll do if I can't get down to the dugouts there. Maybe take up a new hobby.

MICK-
I came close to two Gold Balls. What a shame. If only I had an 80-inch vertical leap.

JENNIFER-
A friend hooked me up with those tickets.

ALLMARSH-
Both, I think.

REDSOX342445-
You expected me to get sixteen balls at the Futures Game? Well, I got half that many and could've gotten a few more during the game if I hadn't been wandering around and taking pictures.

CUBS0110-
No worries. There wasn't much action, and I wasn't in my seat for most of the game.

BERGIN42-
Congrats on all the autos, and for unintentionally making Grady Sizemore think that you're a stalker.

SURFNUSA-
Maybe I should file a patent for that game...

STEDFUNK-
Fantaztic.

DROO5757-
Glad the shirt worked.

EVERYONE-
Is there a way to find out what the attendance was for the Home Run Derby? If so, I'd love to know so I can add it to this page on my web site.

It's up. There are 58 photos, including the one below and many other that I didn't use in my previous three blog entries. CLICK HERE to see them all...

NOTE: The opinion expressed in this photo is solely that of the subjects, and does not necessarily reflect the sentiment of The Baseball Collector.

-------------

UPDATE: The photo album is gone. All my albums are gone. They got so screwed up when MLBlogs changed its format in March 2008 that I deleted them all.

:-(

The best thing about the All-Star Game was that it truly WAS an extravaganza. Outside AT&T Park, the red carpet for the players' parade seemed to stretch for miles. Inside the stadium, every single seat was covered with a cushion--even in the bleachers.

The worst part about the All-Star Game was that it was a zoo. The line to get in was one of the longest I'd ever seen, and a large percentage of fans were acting like animals.

The gates opened 15 minutes before batting practice started, so the aisle in my small section was already full when the National League starting hitting. Less than a minute later, one of the batters smacked a line drive that rolled up against the outfield wall right in front of me. It was PERFECT for the glove trick, but I was scared to go for it. The day before, security had told everyone that ball-retrieving devices were strictly prohibited, and on top of that, I'd received an "official warning" from an evil usher who was out to get me.

I looked around. He wasn't in sight. There were a few other ushers nearby, but I knew that their view of the warning track was going to be blocked by the wall of people standing in the aisle. I swung into action and set up my glove and began lowering it over the ball. The trick failed. My rubber band was old...it was too loose...it had to be tighter to keep the ball inside. CRAP! I looked over my shoulder and saw the security supervisor marching toward me from the far end of the section. DOUBLE-CRAP!! I yanked my glove back up, tightened the rubber band, and quickly lowered it back down.

"Sir!" she yelled. "I need you to STOP doing that RIGHT NOW!"

"Ohhh...really?" I asked sweetly as the glove dangled one foot above the ball. I just needed a couple seconds to line it up and make my move.

"Your contraption needs to COME UP RIGHT NOW!!!"

"Ohhh," I said while lowering my glove the rest of the way. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that."

"RIGHT NOW!!!" she screamed.

"Okay," I said while dropping the glove over the ball. "Here it comes. Back up. I'm really sorry about that."

"Those balls need to stay on the field," she snapped, "and you need to stay in the seats!"

"No problem," I assured her. "I'll leave the ball there. It won't happen again."

She stood behind me, arms folded, as I lifted my glove back up. I couldn't tell if I had the ball, and I didn't want her to know so I moved the glove closer to the wall to block her view. After a moment, I could see that the ball wasn't on the warning track, which meant I had it! I turned my body at the last second to shield my glove from her menacing glare and carefully slipped the ball into my pocket--at which point I heard a familiar voice begin to protest...

"You're gonna let him keep the ball?!"

It was bully #1. He'd threatened me at the Futures Game and bragged about knocking people down at the Home Run Derby. Now, at the All-Star Game, he was trying to get the supervisor to confiscate my ball.

"I better not see that again," she said to me before disappearing into the crowd.

"Awww MAN, that's so un-FAIR!!!" said the bully, who proceeded to complain that out-of-towners get to do whatever they want because no one knows them, while HE has to deal with extra strict rules from security because he's there all the time.

I heard soon after that he had told the supervisor that I was using my glove trick, and by the way, the ball didn't have the All-Star logo. It was a leftover ball from the Derby, and I was extremely disappointed.

During the first hour of BP, I misplayed one ball that bounced off the slanted brick wall, and I literally got attacked while going for another. It was tossed up from the warning track, and when I tried to jump and reach for it, one fan ripped my arm down while six others lunged wildly and knocked me flat on my back. No one even apologized or helped me up, and to make matters worse, I learned soon after that the ball didn't even have a special logo. It was a regular ball, and I decided at that moment to shut down my snagging efforts. For the first time in over 650 games, I feared for my safety. I just wanted batting practice to end so I could watch the All-Star Game and leave that stupid city in one piece.

Both All-Star squads took a planned break for their team photos, and then the American League started BP. The stadium was packed, and my section was dead. I was so frustrated every time another righty launched another homer into the left field bleachers that I didn't bother watching. I just wanted time to pass.

After BP, I caught up with Brad at the back of the right field arcade. Then, since I had some time to kill before the contrived Willie Mays celebration, I made a point of taking photos of fans representing teams from every division:

After suffering through the worst batting practice of my life, it was truly uplifting to see so many fans of so many different teams all coming together in one place. Of course there was a little Giants-A's hostility, but overall, the stadium was jumping with a positive vibe. (NOTE: The Rockies fan on the upper right is named Dan. He's the most successful ballhawk at Coors Field. Anytime you see a homer land in that wide aisle just behind the wall in straight-away left field, there's a good chance he'll be the one catching it.)

I didn't have the greatest view for the pregame ceremonies or the game itself, but it was still a dream come true to be there. Ichiro Suzuki threw his warmup ball 10 feet over my head in the middle of the first inning, and that was the only ball that came within 100 feet of me all night. It was pathetic, and yet there was still some fierce jockeying for position during the game.

When David Ortiz came to bat in the top of the first, bully #1 stood in the tunnel between sections 143 and 144. It was the perfect spot to snag a home run, so naturally I got out of my seat and joined him...not to get in his way, but merely to prove a point.

The supervisor raced over, walkie-talkie in hand, and shouted, "I NEED YOU IN YOUR SEAT RIGHT NOW!!!!!"

Naturally, she was only shouting at me, so I pointed to the bully and calmly said, "If he gets to stand here, then I should get to stand here too."

She sent us both back to our seats.

When Barry Bonds stepped up to the plate in the bottom of the first, both bullies got up and stood behind their front-row seats, just a few feet to my left. I got up too, prompting the supervisor to rush back to my section and ORDER me to sit down.

I gave a little head tilt toward the bullies and said, "If they get to stand up, then I should too."

She made us all sit down, and they were fuming.

"C'mon dawg," said bully #2, "why y'gotta ruin it for the rest of us?!"

Why? It's pretty simple, really: mess with New York City and New York City will mess with you. Dawg.

Ichiro finished 3-for-3 and hit the first inside-the-park homer in All-Star Game history. He won the MVP award, and the American League won the game. Again. The National League nearly came back in the bottom of the ninth, and it's just as well that they didn't because I had a flight to catch.

STATS:

• 140 balls in 20 games this season = 7 balls per game.

• 475 consecutive games with at least one ball

• 97 consecutive games outside of New York with at least one ball

• 642 lifetime balls outside of New York

• 3,101 total balls

The day started at 10:15am when Brad picked me up near my hotel and took me to FanFest (sponsored by DHL) at the Moscone Center. It was a 10-minute walk, and we stopped along the way at the St. Francis. Brad thought there might be some players in the lobby, so we wandered inside to take a peek. Jerry Rice was standing nearby. So was Brian McRae. And Harold Reynolds and Tony Gwynn. Ho-hum. Just another day in San Francisco.

I watched Gwynn for several minutes. He wasn't signing for anyone, so I approached him politely with something else in mind.

"Excuse me, Mister Gwynn, can I--"

"No," he said and turned away.

"--shake your hand?"

"Oh...yeah," he said with a faint smile as he turned back and extended his right arm.

It was nice to feel the grip of a lifetime .338 hitter--not as nice as it would've been to get his autograph or go to a batting cage with him, but I was still excited.

After taking a few more pics, I headed back out to the street with Brad who assured me that we'd be able to check out FanFest (sponsored by DHL) and still get to AT&T Park with plenty of time to spare.

I wasn't so sure.

The Home Run Derby was scheduled to begin at 5pm. The ballpark was going to open at 2pm. We wanted to get on line at least an hour early, and it was going to take a little while to get there. FanFest (sponsored by DHL) was a six-day event that I'd never attended. Clearly, there was a lot to see and do, and I didn't want to have to cram it all into a 90-minute visit.

Brad, of course, was right. He'd been there a couple days earlier and knew exactly what to expect: long lines, interactive games, overpriced food ($1.25 for a banana), autograph signings, historical exhibits, and LOTS of merchandise. Everywhere we looked, there was something for sale--cards, jerseys, balls, bobbleheads--and everywhere we walked, someone tried to hand us a flier or coupon. That didn't offend me. I'd realized when I first got there that FanFest (sponsored by DHL) was basically Disney World for baseball fans.

Brad and I kept wandering. We saw MLB.TV doing a live show and watched/listened to Dan Patrick on ESPN Radio...

There was a mini-home run derby, a Ripken fielding clinic, a SingStar Pop video game for 12-year-old girls, and a Dreamseat lounge...

FanFest (sponsored by DHL) was gimmicky to say the least, but it was pretty cool overall and I'd recommend going at least once. Just know what you're getting into.

By the time Brad and I got to the ballpark, there were already dozens of kayaks in McCovey Cove, and by the time batting practice started at 2:30pm, my section was already full. The gates had opened an extra 20 minutes early to make up for the delay that would be caused by heightened security, so the hundreds of fans behind me had 50 minutes to get inside. I can't describe how frustrating it was to run in and have an empty stadium go to waste.

At least I had time to properly introduce myself to Sarah and Jake, the mother and 12-year-old son, who were there, in effect, as my "Watch With Zack" clients. I gave them two copies of my new book (which Brad had bought), a 2007 All-Star Game ball (also from Brad), and two Futures Game balls which I'd snagged the day before.

The week before, when Sarah and I had been discussing our snagging strategies for the Home Run Derby, she said, "Just promise me after you get your load of balls, you'll give one to my son if we haven't gotten any."

"Absolutely," I said. "Consider me your insurance policy against going home empty-handed."

I had all the confidence in the world at that point, but by the time the National League started hitting, I wasn't sure how well I'd do. The section was packed, and the competition was going to be fierce; not only were the two ballhawk bullies of section 144 lurking nearby, but rumor had it that the Home Run Derby balls were going to be used during BP. In addition, security informed all the fans that cup tricks and other ball-retrieving devices were not allowed, and on top of THAT, the evil usher told me that he wasn't going to allow people to run for balls.

"I'll give you half a section," he had said when I first got there, pointing to an arbitrary spot in the aisle that I wasn't supposed to cross.

As it turned out, he didn't get to enforce his idiotic rule because the aisle was too crowded for anyone to move. I knew there wouldn't be many home runs hit into my section, and I knew that the odds of catching one were nearly impossible, so I held my spot behind the wall and prayed that the little kids in the outfield were allowed to throw balls into the crowd.

After five minutes of begging, I got one of them to toss a ball my way, and it had the Derby logo! Yessssss!!! The kids ended up chucking almost every ball into the crowd, and after 10 more minutes, I got Billy Wagner's kid to throw me another by putting on my Mets cap and yelling, "Look at my hat!"

I had five caps with me, including one with a generic MLB logo. I'd picked the others based on which teams had the most outfielders and pitchers on the All-Star rosters. I figured those would be the players shagging in the outfield, so in addition to the Mets, I also had caps of the Padres, Angels, and Red Sox.

I got a third Derby ball tossed to me on a bounce by an unidentifiable kid, and I got a fourth from one of Trevor Hoffman's sons. Thankfully, the bullies hadn't been a factor during BP. One of them spent most of his time chasing homers in the left field seats, while the other kept his distance and focused on the kids.

I squeezed away from the wall when the National League finished, knowing I could get back in with my front row ticket, and I checked in with Sarah and Jake in the next section. They hadn't gotten anything except several shoves from a 6-foot-5 monster who was reaching in front of everyone.

"Don't worry," I told them. "I got you covered."

The American League's batting practice was a disaster. Not only had stingy adolescent ballboys replaced the generous little kids, but the balls didn't have the Derby logo. Regular balls were being used instead, and I didn't realize it until I got Magglio Ordonez to throw me one from 100 feet away. GAH!!! I'd never been so disappointed after getting a ball.

Two minutes after regular BP ended, there was a brief bonus round for the eight guys who were about to participate in the Derby. Most fans didn't realize it and headed back to their seats, so when one of the balls landed in the gap (aka "The Pit") behind the center field wall, there wasn't much competition and I got a groundskeeper to throw it to me. Damn those regular balls. I felt cheated.

I'd started the day with 3,093 lifetime balls and ended up snagging six during BP. My next ball was going to be No. 3,100, and the mere thought of getting it during the Derby made me giddy. I figured I'd have a decent chance because the evil usher vowed to keep people in their seats. He probably meant it as a threat, but it turned out to be a favor since my seat was actually IN the aisle.

I caught up with Sarah and Jake, hoping that they'd done better during the second half of BP, but things just hadn't gone their way so I pulled out my Derby balls and let them choose which one they wanted to keep. Meanwhile, my obnoxious shirt was already proving its effectiveness, drawing weird looks and wise cracks and "Waldo!" chants from the crowd. (Three days earlier, in case you missed it, I'd posted an entry telling everyone where I'd be sitting and what I'd be wearing so they could look for me on TV.)

Shortly after 5pm, Justin Morneau stepped up to the plate and kicked off the Derby with three quick outs. My biggest concern at that moment was the sun. It was right in my eyes, and I knew it was going to get worse with every passing minute. Brad had warned me weeks earlier about the sun, and I'd bought a cheap pair of sunglasses the night before, but they only made it tougher to see. The entire infield was in the shade and got impossibly dark when I put on the glasses. Luckily, I'd experimented with them at the end of BP so I knew not to wear them at the start of the Derby.

Another concern was that the bullies were surrounding me. One of them (who got preferential treatment from ALL the ushers) was hanging out in the tunnel on my right, and the other was standing behind his front-row seat, just a few feet to my left. I knew they'd have a head start if a ball were hit on either side, and if one happened to be hit right to me, they'd have plenty of time to run over and interfere.

By the time I'd convinced myself that I wasn't going to catch anything, Morneau launched a deep line drive to my left. I had no idea if it had the distance, but that was beyond my control. All I could do was MOVE and hope to get in line with it before it landed, so I darted through the narrow aisle, looking down for a moment to dodge the people and plastic chairs, and when I looked back up, all I saw was the sun. It was such a helpless feeling to know I'd be close to the ball and not be able to see it, but I kept running to the spot where I thought it was going to land, and at the last second, I saw a dark speck shoot out of the brightness. The ball was approaching fast. I lunged and jumped as high as I could and felt something hit my glove amidst the mob of fans reaching skyward. Was it another glove that hit mine? No! IT WAS THE BALL!!! Ohmygod, I'd caught the first home run of the Derby, and I could not be-LIEVE it. I threw my arms up and jumped up and down--click here to watch the footage (.MPG = 6.7MB)--and got high-fives from everyone in the section...except the bullies who'd gotten there a second too late. The guy in the tunnel had started too far away to get there in time, and the guy on my left never saw it. He lost it in the sun. Ha-haaa!! He never even saw the bat hit the ball, so he was still standing behind his seat when I wiggled past his spot.

A reporter from the Oakland Tribune approached me for a quick interview. I spelled my name, said I was from New York City, showed him a tattered copy of my first book, and told him that this was my 3,100th ball. The crowd started chanting, "Waldo!!! Waldo!!! Waldo!!! Waldo!!!" My phone started ringing like crazy, and I let the calls go to my voice-mail. The messages ranged from, "Hey, Zack, it's John. Nice catch. Saw you on TV," to "Zack, it's Ryan out in Tacoma, Washington. Hey, uh, nice work. First ball of the Home Run Derby? You know, we uh...me and my buddy here were reading your page right before the Home Run Derby started. He didn't think you had a ******' chance to catch a ball and the very first ball, we're like, 'Oh **** there he i--ohhhhhhhhhhh!!!' So congratulations, uh, but right now you're probably hard at work because there's still a lot of Derby left. Alright man, bye."

The rest of the Derby was AWFUL. All three lefties--Morneau, Prince Fielder, and Ryan Howard--failed to reach the second round so I ended up being stuck in right-center field, 415 feet from home plate, as a bunch of pull-happy righties took aim at the giant Coke bottle. Alex Rios did hit a ball to the section on my right, and there were a couple other semi-close calls, but things were so slow that I had to entertain myself with a giant order of garlic fries (and chicken strips). I didn't bother limiting my eating to the interminable commercial breaks. I just kept stuffing my face through the Derby itself. My day-of-a-lifetime had prematurely turned into a complete waste, and I had to eat my sorrows away. I also felt bad for Brad who was trapped on the right field arcade and even worse for the kayakers. Only two balls had reached the cove during the Derby and both of them had passed the wrong side of the foul pole.

Things weren't much better in my section as the second round came to a close. The sun was brutal, hovering just above of the top of the upper deck and making it impossible to track any fly ball. It's just as well that the lefties had been eliminated because I wouldn't have been able to catch anything. Of course, most of the other fans were also struggling to shield their eyes from the intense glare, and as if that weren't bad enough, we had to deal with the nearby water canons which blasted a million shimmering droplets after every home run.

The sun dipped out of sight during the final round, and I felt energized. I got up and stood behind my chair and assumed a slight crouch so I wouldn't block anyone's view. I didn't think anything of it. Fans had been standing on and off throughout the day. Bully #1 had even gotten away with camping out in the runway, yet for some reason the evil usher marched over and pulled me aside.

"Can I see your ticket?" he asked.

Um, no. Actually you can't. You've already seen it. You're a power-hungry jerk who needs to get laid, and if I hand you my precious ticket, you're gonna tear off a corner or mark it up as you sick security people tend to do whenever a fan causes a quote-unquote problem.

"Is there a problem?" I asked.

"Actually, yeah, there is," he snapped. "You can't be crouching like that in the aisle. You're not the center fielder. I can't have you playing center field in my section."

"I'm really sorry," I said, "but I was only crouching so I wouldn't block the view of the people sitting behi--"

"What did I tell you about running for balls?!" he demanded.

I tried to explain myself again, and I offered a second apology, but it was no use. The man was determined to argue. He said he was issuing an "official warning" to me and that he was going to let his supervisor know in case he wasn't there the next day.

"If she has a problem with you tomorrow," he said, "you will be removed from the game."

Way to go, Giants management.

And way to go, Vladimir Guerrero, for winning the Derby. A total of 74 home runs were hit, so I guess I shouldn't feel too bad about only catching one of them.

STATS:

• 139 balls in 19 games this season = 7.3 balls per game.

• 474 consecutive games with at least one ball

• 21 consecutive games with at least four balls

• 96 consecutive games outside of New York with at least one ball

• 641 lifetime balls outside of New York

• 3,100 total balls

NOTE: I'm counting the Home Run Derby as a "game," just as I've counted numerous rainouts over the years as "games," but I can't decide whether to count the Morneau homer as a "game ball." What does everyone think I should do? I feel strongly that the balls should count toward my grand total since they were used by major league players inside a major league stadium, but I'm struggling to make decisions beyond that.

"All-Star Sunday" was my first full day in San Francisco, and I was exhausted from the start. Brad picked me up at 9:30am, and as we walked to the nearest BART station, we stopped to talk to one of his friends who was waiting for autographs outside the St. Francis Hotel. Two minutes later, Raul Ibanez and J.J. Putz rushed outside (the Mariners had a game that afternoon in Oakland) and I got Ibanez to sign as he jumped into a waiting cab.

The Futures Game was scheduled to begin at 1pm. Brad and I got to AT&T Park two and a half hours early and headed to the portwalk to snag some baseballs before the gates opened. I definitely wanted a ball, but I wasn't taking it seriously, at least not at the start. Even though the game was at a major league stadium, it was being played by minor leaguers, and I'd already decided not to count the balls in my collection.

"Here it comes!" yelled a portwalk regular named Joe Dirt.

I looked up from my pizza just in time to see a ball clear the railing at the back of the arcade and fly right toward me. THWACK!!! It hit the pavement three feet from where I was standing and bounced into McCovey Cove. Brad and I looked at each other and then watched helplessly as Joe Dirt calmly scooped the ball out of the water with a net attached to a fishing pole.

"Take a look," he said, holding out the wet ball.

I shielded my eyes and turned away. I knew it had a special "Futures Game" logo, and I didn't want to see it until it was on a ball that I owned.

I scarfed the rest of my pizza, put on my glove, and marched to the outer wall of the ballpark to take a peek inside. I could see the field. I could see the batter. I could see the players. And before long, I got Emiliano Fruto to toss me a ball. Not only did it have the Futures logo, but it also said "Official Major League Baseball." I wasn't expecting that. I don't know what I was expecting, but it made me think twice about whether or not to count the ball in my collection. I was glad to own it, but I stuck to my original decision and didn't count it. (Was that the right thing to do? What do you think? Keep in mind that I've never counted balls from Spring Training or Minor League games.)

A little while later, one of the Futures hit a home run that landed in the right field seats, trickled back into the arcade, and got tossed down by a camera man. I grabbed that one as well and ended up getting in line at the gate with two balls already in my backpack. The line wasn't THAT long, but it took forever to move. Security was inspecting every bag, and all the fans had to pass through metal detectors.

By the time I got inside and headed to my section in right-center field, BP was almost done. There were a few fans already out there, and we all gathered behind the outfield wall when Wladimir Balentien jogged over to retrieve a ball. I was the only fan who knew his first name, and when I shouted it, he flipped the ball high in the air right to me. I knew everyone else was going to reach for it, so I jumped straight up and snatched it with my bare hand.

"Oh, so it's gonna be like THAT," snapped the guy on my right, who then proceeded to talk trash for the next 30 seconds and tell me that if I wanted it to be a competition, then he'd show me some real competition, and that I'd better watch my back for the next two days, and blah blah. I'd been warned earlier about this guy, so in a way I wasn't surprised, but at the same time...excuse me?!

I don't remember actively wishing harm on this young man, so perhaps my subconscious was at work. Less than a minute later, he was writhing in pain in the aisle. Just like that. Out of nowhere. It's like the God of ball-snagging saw what happened and struck him down with a Hample Jinx lightning bolt. Apparently, he had bad knees and one of them gave out. The ushers came running over, propped him up on a chair, and waited with him for Emergency Medical Services to arrive.

The most annoying thing about AT&T Park (other than its name and the handful of aggressive ballhawks) is that you can't get behind the dugouts unless you have tickets for those sections. There's a railing that cuts through the seats, 15 rows back, and that's as close as I was able to get when both teams took infield/outfield practice.

It ended up not making a difference. The seats in front of me were so empty that when the US team came off the field, I was able to shout loud enough to get coach Todd Steverson's attention and convince him to throw me my fourth ball of the day.

When the World team took the field, one coach started hitting the normal fungos while a second coach stood on the foul line in shallow right field and hit fly balls to the outfielders. That coach was Hensley Meulens, and when he was done, he tossed me ball number five. Less than a minute later, Michael Saunders (who wasn't even alive when the Mets won their last World Series) jogged by and tossed me another. The infielders were almost done taking fungos, so I hurried over to the dugout--15 rows back, that is--and got coach John Shoemaker to throw me a ball on his way in.

The one kid who happened to be walking through the seats at that moment stopped and asked, "Weren't you on TV?"

For the next half-hour, dozens of players on both teams stood on the warning track in foul territory and signed autographs. If I'd been thinking, I would've gotten as many as possible to sign one of my baseballs, but the seats were packed by that point, and it took a real effort to get close to the players. I managed to get two guys to sign old ticket stubs that I'd been carrying everywhere, just in case. Collin Balester, a Washington Nationals prospect, signed a Mets-Nationals ticket from April, and Joba Chamberlain of the Yankees organization signed one from last month's Subway Series.

Right before the game, I ran into Brad who introduced me to a guy named Tony Dobson who's basically THE baseball collector at Chase Field. Every season, Tony attends all 81 of the Diamondbacks' home games, plus minor league games, college games, Spring Training, and winter ball. In a few months, he's going on a guided baseball tour in Japan...something like six games in six different cities in one week. He said fans in Japan aren't allowed to keep balls during BP. He also said that he attended 219 games last year.

Brad and Tony (and many others) were eager to go for home run balls during the game. I had little interest in the balls--or in the game itself for that matter. In an alternate universe, I would've been content just to sit and watch the game and pat myself on the back whenever I recognized a name, but in reality I just wanted to wander and take pics and eat. I didn't think I'd have much time to do that over the next two days, so I wanted to take advantage of my brief opportunity.

AT&T Park is similar to Camden Yards in its design and layout and overall gorgeousness. The main difference is that one has a 1,016-foot warehouse in right field, while the other has a brilliant view of the water.

I love the water. I've always been drawn to it. In that alternate universe, I'd spend months at a time out at sea.

I also love the hoopla surrounding All-Star Week--the greeters at the airport, the banners around town, the police escorts for the players, the metal detectors at the gates, the All-Star garbage cans, and even the All-Star napkin dispensers. Everything at AT&T Park was decked out for the Main Event, and it was a treat to see it firsthand. It's a good thing those dispensers weren't empty because I needed a bunch of napkins to clean up after eating one of Stormin' Norman's Frybreads. (He's got a stand just below the right-field edge of the batter's eye. If you go to AT&T Park, you need to get a Frybread. Tell Norman that Brad's friend Zack sent you.) This one was topped with powdered sugar, strawberries, and whipped cream.

I finally made it down to my seat--not the greatest view, but that's not really the point of sitting 415 feet from home plate in home run land. I didn't expect anyone to hit a ball my way, but I still wore my glove for the hell of it and nearly ended up catching one. Jay Bruce smoked a line drive 20 feet to my left, and I took off through the aisle and got right in position to catch it, but it ended up hooking a bit and hitting the brick wall just above the "421" sign.

By the time Bruce had trotted into 3rd base, two regular ballhawks with seats just to my left walked over with their beers and informed me that I was in their section, that they'd been sitting there for years, and that there was no way that I could just show up out of nowhere for three days and expect to catch any balls, especially during the Home Run Derby. One guy said he was "going to play dirty" and go out of his way to prevent me from getting balls. The other guy said he was "going to do whatever it takes to get a ball" and that his friends sitting in the second