Since it is a long season, how about sharing some great baseball moments that you really were at the ballpark for? Here are a few of mine, all Seattle related. All other ballparks I have been to were regular games.
1) "The Game" 1995 ALDS when Edgar Martinez drove in Joey Cora and Ken Griffey Jr in, Randy Johnson came out from the bullpen. M's won.
2) Attended all of Randy Johnson's home starts in 1995 when he won the Cy Young.
3) In 97, was about 10 seats away from where Mark McGwire's 538' homerun landed in the upper left field deck. It was hit off of Randy Johnson's 97mph fastball. RJ k'd 19 A's that game, but the M's lost 4-1, lol.
4) Too many amazing Ken Griffey Jr. catches to list or remember, and was at the opening of Safeco.
That is it for me, should not be very hard to top. But you have to have been there, no couch tickets.
Great baseball moments I was actually at the park for? Not many.
Ones that nevertheless stick in my memory? A few.
At the old Connie Mack Stadium, helpfully located in scenic North Philly, I saw:
Roberto Clemente throw out a runner at first from right field on what should have been a single. Clemente, along with the Say Hey kid, was one of the finest ballplayers I ever had the privilege to watch play the game.
Curt Flood leap high over the wall to rob the Phillies Wes "Kingfisher" Covington of a home run. Flood was INTENSE! We were close to the field, and watching him flailing about in the on-deck circle like a madman on meth
really stuck with me.
The Little General, the legendary and star-crossed Phillies manager Gene Mauch, standing his ground on the top step of the dugout, arms folded across his chest like an angry marionette, in order to prevent the onrushing opposing catcher from snagging an otherwise just reachable foul ball.
Grown men having peanut wars in the stands. I was like 10 or 11 and it was the very first time I'd ever seen grown-ups acting like complete fools.
Venturing alone into the ancient Connie Mack's men's room alone as a 10 year old. It was Epic! It was . . . Dickensian! The urinal was one long, unbroken trough running the length of one wall. One bowl for ALL, men jostling elbow to elbow at it, with a longish line waiting. The floor was rough concrete, measurably tilted from all sides to a HUGE center drain, and that floor was AWASH with effluvia! Like I said, epic and Dickensian!
Pulling up to park in North Philly @ Connie Mack for a game, all this prior to the mid-sixties racial riots. There may have been some small dedicated parking lot, there may have not been any at all, but most who drove there had to park on the streets.
You immediately "payed" pleasant enough local black kids a bunch of change to "watch" your car. Everybody, black and white or yellow, did, absolutely without question. It was just the way it was done, a local "tax" if you will. You can only imagine what might have happened to the car of a fool who didn't fork over any change. No obdurate fool big enough existed, though.
In, I think, 1966, the Phillies traded what was probably a bag of used balls and some future considerations for career reserve outfield Jackie Brandt from the Orioles. He scarcely ever played, even for the Phils. At one game, with typical Philly class and for a reason I can still not fathom, some asshole fans spent the entire game parading around the stadium with two huge bedsheets that said, "Busher Brandt."
Brandt actually started this game, and had what may have been his only triple and his only home run of the year. By the 7th inning or so, his having done this, the jamokes retired the "Busher" bedsheet and unashamedly kept parading around the "Brandt" one.
You
can't make this stuff up!