Awesome! This is more of the same.
In today's episode of our continuing "
YCS On Location" series, we'll review my recent trip to RFK Stadium, home of the Washington Nationals and also a team that seems to win sometimes, the D.C. United. I notice only that the D.C. United play here because of the absolutely enormous banner/billboard type dealie they have draped over about three upper deck sections of the stadium. No biggie, though, since Nats tickets are in as much demand nowadays as passes to the Freer Gallery's latest east asian antiquity exhibit (ha! Regional humor that none of you uncultured slobs will get).
I was in DC recently (like, a week ago) on a Clark Griswold-style vacation with my parents to see the sights and visit my grandparents still living in the District. Side note: traveling with my old man is the funniest/most grueling experience ever. For starters, he's got a metal hip, so going through airport security provides Shakespearean tragic comedy as he tries to convince the dude with the wand that that is, in fact, his metal hip and he's not just happy to see you. This was compounded by the irrepressible laughter I suffered when I saw that the only contents of my dad's bin (that you pass through the x-ray machine) were his sneakers and a pack of Marb Reds. Also, my old man's a small-town farmer and carpenter, and driving on the beltway is not in his nature. He swore profusely at every car he saw with New York plates (for reasons kept between him and the almighty), and when he swears, the result is a mismatching of seemingly random expletives reminiscient of post-modern American poetry. "Cock-bite" and "cunt prick" were two recurring hits. But, I digress.
I'm from DC, so the traditional touristy stuff didn't really get my juices flowin'. Been there done that, I suppose, and if your "juices" get flowin' from seeing old marble buildings built in what used to be (and still sometimes smells like) a swamp, then fella, you got problems. Anyway, the only thing I really wanted to do was catch a Nats game, because 1: I've never been to RFK and this is the last year they're gonna play there and 2: I likes baseballs.
So, we get to the stadium ridiculously early because we had spent all day on the Mall and were basically out of shit to do. Ticket prices at RFK are roughly equivalent to most parks around the country, so no real surprise there. Before they opened the gate, we sat around on some hill outside the stadium for about a half an hour with about 15-20 other people that had gotten there early. I was shocked to learn that none of them were shitfaced and threatening to fight one another. This, folks, is the tragedy of baseball without tailgating.
Now, every once and a while you'll hear team representatives and fans talk about how their stadium is falling apart. Usually this means that the place is about 20 years old and isn't aging well in comparison to the newer ballparks. Bullshit. RFK is falling apart, and when I say "falling apart," I mean that a big ass bolt or some piece of the upper deck fell off the ceiling and hit a seat behind me while we were waiting for the game to start.
Near-death experiences aside, the stadium isn't actually such a bad place to watch a game. It's huge for a baseball stadium (since obviously it was built for football) and the ball doesn't really carry in the outfield, but guys with legit power have little trouble getting it out of the yard. The acoustics are kind of cool, too, since a lot of the foundation is metal and not concrete, so the 15,000 or so fans at the game sounded a lot more enthusiastic about the Nats than you would expect from 15,000 people who were watching the Washington Nationals.
During the pre-game video intros, the Nats do this dumbass thing where they have all the players dramatically look into the camera and say "I pledge allegiance..." and the last guy says "to the Nats!" all emphatically. Gay. It's especially funny when the latin guys do it, because they're all like [this portion removed by editor based on objectionable content offensive to hispanics from around the globe]. Am I right, folks? And the whole time I'm just sitting there all like, "whatever Pedro, go back to Cuba or Spain or whereever."
The best part of the Nats game is, in many ways, like what was once the only bearable part of watching the Brewers play. The race. In Washington, however, they ain't racin' no sausages. They got presidents. 4 guys in suits with enormous heads bearing the likenesses of George Washington, Teddy Roosevelt, Abe Lincoln ("No I did not say "hey Blinkin'") and Thomas Jefferson. Watching those poor bastards try to navigate the bases in that topheavy headgear was hilarious. Jefferson won. Then he banged a slave.
The only bad part, I suppose, about going to RFK for a Nats game is having to listen to and see this unbearable fuck they have that runs the promotional shit in the stands. Put every stereotype you've ever heard regarding frat guys, popped collars and all, into the body of one incomprehensible douche that looks and sounds like Carson Daly and says "bro" a lot, and you're left with someone far more tolerable than the unfettered slapdick they parade on the megatron every couple of innings. Seriously, Washington Nationals, this guy is probably hurting your ticket sales.
Anyway, we ended up leaving in like the 8th inning after the heat stroke of being outside in Washington wore off and we realized we were watching Jason Simontacci pitch for some reason. On the way back to the hotel, we heard on the radio that the Nats ended up losing 10-0. This came as little surprise after having watched Christian Guzman play what may be the worst game I've ever seen a major league ballplayer play. Also, the Nats flat out suck. I can't think of anyone but Zim and maybe Schnieder and Kearns that would play consistently for another team in the majors. They're seriously late '90's-Brewers bad. And take it from me, friends, that sucks.
So, stay tuned, YCS readers for the next installment of YCS On Location, when another one of us happens to stumble drunk and confused into some random major league stadium and catch a game. Hope you enjoyed it.
Despite having a blog roster that counts several Cubs fans among its members, the YCS Baseball Roadshow had never reported from 1060 W. Addison. Being given an extra ticket 2 minutes before we had to leave the house, I was naturally psyched for my first trip to Wrigley in more than 3 years. After battling Lake Shore Drive, parking in Lincoln Park and the chronic incompetence of the CTA, we arrived just in time to see Mark DeRosa tie the game with a 1-1 homer in the 2nd. Sadly, this would probably be the high-water mark of the day, as the Cubs proceeded to lose 12-3. Carlos Zambrano also homered which was badass, and from our crappy seats in Section 503, the ball heading into the bleachers was about the only thing we had a good view of (besides the buses lining up on Waveland.)
The crowd was a usual mix of North side babes with no obvious rooting interests, hicks from St. Louis with a psychotic/borderline sexual love for the Cards, and people actually there to enjoy a baseball game.
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