A Bad Day At The Ballpark

Around my old office, I was known for stating the phrase "A bad day at the ballpark is better than a good day anywhere else."  And it's true, as I've enjoy almost every trip to a Major League or Minor League park I've gone to.

But . . . one day was an exception.  It was so terrible that it made me re-think my favorite phrase, because this particular bad day at a ballpark was as bad as anything else I've encountered.

It started innocently enough.  I decided to take my wife and three-year-old to the minor-league game between Frederick and Potomac (Carolina League) in Woodbridge, Virginia on the 4th of July, 1999.  My youngster wanted to see fireworks, and since Pfitzner Stadium isn't much more than an hour's drive from where we lived at the time, I decided to kill two birds with one stone, and let him see the post-game fireworks while I was chalking up yet another ballpark visit that season.

Well, where do I begin to list all of the things that were wrong with this visit?  It was as hot as blazes, as the temperature was well over 100 degrees when we arrived.  The crowd was huge, undoubtedly to see the post-game fireworks, and this stadium simply doesn't accommodate large crowds well (i.e., cramped walk-ways with no ventilation under the stands).  Drinking water was at an absolute premium.  The chintzy little souvenir shop was the hottest room I've ever been in.  The concession stands were a joke.  I think they must've over-charged us for the tickets, as we were on bleachers -- but the worst of it is that (after super-human effort to get to the seats) there isn't just one Section Two at this park, nor are there two Section Twos at this park . . . there are three Section Twos in this park, and about the second inning, an usher came to throw us out of the seats we were in because we were in the wrong Section Two.  The correct Section Two was also made up of bleachers, but there the ushers had done nothing to keep the aisles cleared of people so you could even get through.  It was a nightmare lugging our belongings and toddler over/around/through these sweaty bodies to get to our "seats."  Of course, they only had ushers positioned to throw us out of our wrong seats -- none were to be found to help us crawl to our correct seats.

It was a bad experience . . . and the very second that the game became official (so I could "count" the visit), we were out of there!  So, no, little (sweaty) Jody didn't get to see the post-game fireworks.

And the stadium itself isn't even worth driving a block out of your way to see!  Pfitzner Stadium has aluminum bleachers everywhere.  There is no roof/overhang to block out any of the setting sunlight (and it is blinding on the first-base side, where we were).  To say "no expense was spared on the exterior of the building" would be 100% false, as it looks like it was constructed in about three days.  Even one of the stadium employees told my wife that the owner of the team is a tightwad, and he refuses to put any money back into the facilities.

So, don't bother going out of your way to see the Potomac Cannons play a home game.  Travel a little farther, and take in a game in either Frederick or Bowie, Maryland.  There, I have a feeling you'll avoid a bad day at the ballpark.

Write us and tell us about any bad days you've had attending a pro-baseball game.  We'll include your comments below:

Written by:  Metsking31@aol.com

On the day of the game, some small showers were popping up here and there. It was not raining as I left my house for the 30 minute drive to Shea Stadium, so I thought I should leave at around 10:30 for a 1:05 game. This would leave me time for traffic, BP (Batting practice) and me to do most of my rituals. We got there at about 11:15 and headed into the stadium. As I entered, it started to pour, the tarp was brought out, BP is canceled and we have to go to our seats. This is a bad situation. I have two kids, with two hours until a ballgame. 

It barely rained again, but they still delayed the game. It was 1:05, and the game was being delayed. It got to be 2:00 and we still hadn't gotten any info at all, just that they weren't playing. It hadn't poured since 12:00 noon at this point. The ushers were completely rude. I found one that was not rude and he told us that the game should start soon because it has not rained in so long. It turns out the game started at 4:05 p.m.. I was so sick of the way that the Mets handled that delay. I left after the 4th inning. I didn't even mention that traffic was horrible (yes, 45 minutes to Shea is long, and the way back was 57 minutes) and the rudeness of the staff. The only good thing was we were in the second row under the overhang. That saved us from being drenched after the earlier downpour.

Written by:  merzbach@bestweb.net 

Just stopped by your web site to see what you had added lately.  One of the things I noticed was the Bad Day at the Ballpark section.  I'll agree with you that it is hard to have a bad day at a baseball game but I could think of a couple games just this year that I would rather not have been it.  And so when I clicked on the link to get to the page, I was shocked to see that you were at Pfitzer Stadium on July 4th that year.  I was also at that game!  It was the last stop on my 10-day vacation down south.  And I would have to say that it was the hottest game I've ever been it.  I've never seen so much sweat at a ballgame before.  What a miserable day at the ballpark.  Anyhow, I did make it for the whole game, and then left as soon as the last pitch was thrown.  It was quite strange driving out as we were seemingly the only car going in the direction away from the park.  It seemed like the whole town was descending on Pfitzner to see the fireworks!  That is one night I won't soon forget.  How ironic that we were both able to "enjoy" that day so much!

Had to write after reading some of the comments about "a bad day at the ballpark."

While I can't ever say I've had a "bad day" at the ballpark, I can relate the experience that convinced me that you never, never, never leave the game early, unless they've announced that it has been officially cancelled.

My boss gave me his tickets for a game at Coors Field that he couldn't attend, the Rockies vs. the Dodgers.  I invited my brother to join me at the game.  As we arrived at the park, it began to rain, and the start of the game was obviously to be delayed.  After two hours, my brother and I decided that they were not going to play that night.  We left, and went to the movies.  As we got back to his apartment after the movie, we turned on the television and saw that they had finally begun the game.  We didn't think much of it, and didn't even bother to watch any of the game.  The next evening, I opened the newspaper and saw that when they finally got to the game, Hideo Nomo had pitched a no-hitter.  Even though it went against our team, my brother and I were both kicking ourselves for missing the chance to see a no-no live.  My brother kept that ticket stub on his refrigerator for more than a year after that.  The moral of the story is, as I said, never, never, never, never leave the ballpark until the game is over or they tell you it's been cancelled, because you never know what can happen.

Written by:  HokieCam@aol.com 

I never really thought it was possible to have a bad day at a baseball game.  As you know, I've been to hundreds of games over the years, and, in general, I have enjoyed almost every one of them.  Even if the game wasn't necessarily thrilling, it never rose to the category of a bad day.  I can't say that any more, at least in part because of a game in Florida over the July 4th weekend.

I flew into Orlando on Friday to see a game at Tinker Field before it closes at the end of the season.  The remainder of the weekend would be spent on the Gulf Coast with games in Port Charlotte, Ft. Myers and Sarasota (GCL Orioles).  There were light showers off
and on throughout the game in Orlando, but the game was never threatened.

Similar -- though somewhat darker -- skies threatened the start of the game the next evening in Port Charlotte, but I never anticipated the evening that I had in front of me.  The walk-up crowd looked to be rather significant, which I hadn't expected at all. Baseball America's 1999 Directory listed Charlotte's 1998 season attendance as 43,659, and for a ballpark that holds 5,424 over a 70 game home season, I expected to be watching in bleak surroundings.  Unfortunately, this was fireworks night, and seemingly all of Charlotte County came out for the show -- the fireworks show, that is.

When I arrived at the ballpark, the tarp was still on the field, and the players were all hanging out in the dugouts, anticipating the impending rains.  At about 6:45, it began to rain, and the fans headed for the shelter of the concourse.  It rained steadily for about 45 minutes as the fans milled around the drier parts of the ballpark.  By about 7:30, however, the rains had effectively ceased.  I say "effectively," because as I looked at the puddles on top of the tarp, I could see drops hitting the surface, but I had difficulty getting wet as I stood out in the stands.  It took me a while to deduce what was happening, but by the time the PA announcer made his 8:00 announcement, I was beginning to put some of the pieces together.

The announcement boiled down to the fact that if the game had not started by 9:00, the fireworks would precede the game rather than follow.  As I mentioned earlier, the ballpark was essentially filled to capacity this evening.  The announced attendance was 5,501, "...The largest [crowd] at a Rangers home game since last July 3, when 5,479 fans packed the stadium for the aerial display," according to the Charlotte Sun article the next morning.  (Now when I took math in school, 5,501 was still larger than 5,479, but perhaps that's just that new math that everyone seems to be talking about these days.)  Using my (flawed) math from the days of old, I calculate an average crowd for Charlotte of just over 550 fans in non-fireworks nights last year, so we know why probably 5,500 of the fans were in the ballpark.  My deduction, then, was that there must be a curfew in the Port Charlotte area which would have prevented the team from having the fireworks display if the game ran too long.  Since basically everyone but me was there to see the fireworks, the team would have had some very dissatisfied patrons, and preferred to keep the fireworks lovers happy at my expense.  Sure enough, the driest "rain delay" in the history of baseball continued to the appointed hour for the fireworks.  They shot off the fireworks, spent about an hour preparing the field for the game that they decided play anyway for the heck of it, and played an admittedly brisk game into the next morning.  After the long drive following the game, I didn't get "home" until well after 2 a.m. for a game that could have, and should have, started about 45 minutes late, or so.

Some people probably wouldn't qualify this as a bad day at the ballpark, but I'm not much into small-town fireworks.  Besides, spending four extra hours in a dry ballpark isn't my idea of a fun evening.

Return to Essay page