Let’s start with the basics. It was the bottom of the ninth, one out, nobody on. The Dodgers trail 6–0 to the Mets. Not a ton of people are still here – probably about half, but the front of the bleachers was still hopping. We were in Section BL311, Row A, seats 1 & 2. Andy Pages hit a ball into the left field bleachers. It hit a guy across the aisle, Section BL309, Row A, Seat 18 or something smack (and I mean that literally) in the hands, went through them, hit the seat back behind him (people were scattering), bounced forward off the concrete curb at the front of the section and rolled to my feet. I was trying to get it, and it just came to me. Kind of the best baseball game moment of my life. Moment, I said. I’ve had some baseball experiences that rule.
Now, let me break down how it happened. This is just a story of a guy who bought some tickets and got lucky, so read on only if you have the time to hear about that kind of thing.
My wife was attending a conference in Los Angeles, and we always try to tag along with each other on these things if possible. It was a slam dunk whether I would go when we saw the Dodgers were in town. We were getting in on Wednesday and they had Wednesday night and Thursday afternoon games before they left town. Wednesday was our only option since she would be in conference sessions during the day Thursday.
The ticket options were’t as good as they had been lately. Honestly, the prices felt close to double what we paid last year comparably. So I was looking for something not outrageous. We’ve spent a bit more than normally budgeted for baseball games this year, so I could live with an easy, chill night kicking back and watching from afar. Orrrrrrrrr…I could grab these two front row bleacher seats for about the same as the seats we got behind the plate last year. I haven’t seen a Dodger Stadium bleacher game since I was a kid (price on the ticket: $2). I know it can get stupid out there, but we had a great time. There was a Mets fan begging CF Jeff McNeil to give him Just. One. Glance. McNeil was pretty funny, never looking up. Then, in the funniest thing all night, LF Brandon Nimmo went to toss the guy a ball after an pre-inning warmup, and the dude wasn’t looking, it bounced off of him, and went right to a little girl. When everyone yelled at the guy for being a fuckup, the girl tried to give him the ball. We made her leave, with the ball, of course, and he just sat halfway sad and halfway laughing the last couple of innings.
Anyway, I thought, I’m doing the bleachers because there’s a legitimate chance I get a ball out there. Or at least get to be among a huge celebration, which just hit better in the bleachers. Unfortunately, the Dodgers were getting skunked. Pete Alonzo, however, hit an absolute tank job that I looked up at as it landed about ten rows back of me. Off the bat, it looked like we had a chance for about enough time to start to stand. He hit it 447 feet and 112.1 MPH off the bat (find all the data I’ll use here) . That’s smoked.
We had a kinda tough neighbor. He was very nice, talkative, and “knew” a lot about baseball. That’s a rough combination for us. We like to cheer with people, but I hate hearing other people’s opinions about baseball. Mine are the only correct ones, so it’s just frustrating to sit through other people’s incorrect ones (this guy called for a bunt – early in the game!). The tough neighbor led us to get up a few times and walk around. We sat in Section BL309 for a bit. Yes, it was Row A, Seat 18 or whatever. But ultimately, we had to squeeze back in with Dave from Temecula (I almost asked him, IYKYK) for the end of the game. Only this time, I sat on the inside with Christy on the aisle. At the front of the aisle was a really nice usher who stood with her back to the game. Across was a man and woman who were about to have an experience.
Sometime around the bottom of the eighth or the top of the ninth, I was telling Christy that I preferred sitting where we normally do for the game experience, but the bleachers are a real good time. You just can’t see what I like to see a lot closer than I could. So anyway, that’s something I said out loud – that I would rather be not where I was right then.
Here is the home run (on the bottom of the right side). I can’t figure out a non-illegal-seeming way to embed this. A lot is a blur. I saw the swing, heard the crack (a very legit crack), and within a second I was saying, “Oh shit that’s us. Oh shit that’s right at us.” I stood up, started trying to squeeze by Christy to the aisle as she sunk back in her seat. I didn’t make it in time, and I reached out like a dope, thinking, well, maybe I have a chance to touch it, which is likely what every other guy thinks when they all reach and fuck up the guy who had a shot at the ball if everyone backed off. That should be the rule in the stands, by the way. If it’s not right at you, you get a shot on the bounce, but back off the guy who it’s right to. So, I was both the guy I hate in the stands, and a dumbass for reaching at that ball. I didn’t have any effect on the outcome by doing it, luckily. I was at least three feet from touching the thing, and the guy who it hit certainly wasn’t thinking about me or my reach that he never saw. But that bounce was perfect. Another two inches higher and it’s over the little curb and down to the “Home Run Seats” that they have in front of the bleachers.
I asked the usher afterward if she had been looking. She told me that she noticed when everyone started reacting and she just covered up. You can see her in the video trying to not get hit.
Now I guess I never have to sit in the bleachers again. I went there for one reason, and it happened. That’s a pretty lucky thing, so I’ll leave the remainder of the baseballs to everyone else.