Itinerary: Sports Authority Field, Denver

If there’s an overarching theme to this blog, it’s that love of sports makes folks do crazy things. Case in point: Why else, other than family or business obligations, would an otherwise reasonable group of people decide to leave Southern California for a weekend in mid-December and head to chilly Denver?

It has become one of my personal ambitions — for at least as long as the lack of the proper amount of disposable income prevents me from doing the see-an-entire-sports-league’s-stadiums-in-one-month type of trip that people like me romanticize — to travel somewhere at least once each fall to see an NFL game in a venue I haven’t yet been to. Entering the season, locales such as Pittsburgh, Chicago and Green Bay were very high on my list, but other factors came into play, such as when I’d have time to do it, who would be available to go with me, and which games on the NFL schedule seemed most appealing. So it came to pass that I identified the weekend before Christmas as the most ideal time to take a trip, and had settled on going to Chicago to see Bears-Seahawks, when my buddy MongerTron stepped in. I figured that he, a Bears fan through and through, would have no problem with going to Soldier Field (he’s been; I haven’t) but we were planning this trip right after Jay Cutler’s thumb injury had flushed his hopes down the toilet (turned out he couldn’t have been more right), and instead suggested we go to Denver for Broncos-Patriots. “I just want to see a good game,” he said.

In hindsight, that was pretty good foresight. We planned the excursion just as Tebow-mania was reaching its fever pitch, and by the week of the game, it was all anyone in sports could talk about. We bought our tickets on StubHub for just under $150 a piece and felt that it was pretty expensive, but then we heard a Patriots fan at the game lament that he had paid $500 for his upper deck seat and suddenly we didn’t feel so bad. Regardless, the considerable hype leading up to the game certainly made the prospect of sitting in cold, maybe even freezing temps for the game more palatable for myself, MongerTron and Mrs. Fan.

The approach

Sports or not, Denver is up there among my favorite towns to visit in the United States. Why? Centralized downtown with plenty to do and a great variety of places to eat and drink, very walkable, vibrant nightlife. The first item is the most important one to me, since it mitigates possibly the two biggest drawbacks of Denver, the lack of an extensive public transportation system and the fact the airport might as well be in Timbuktu. So other than taxi fare from and to the airport ($54 flat rate, FYI), we didn’t spend a dime on transportation during our three-day visit.

The other good thing about the trip from a budget standpoint was that we stayed at a prime downtown hotel for a very reasonable nightly rate (read: less than three digits before taxes). Either Denver hotels hadn’t caught onto the phenomenon I’ve often seen in other NFL cities of jacking up their rates on football weekends, or they just didn’t anticipate what the Tebow effect could do for their bottom line.

At any rate, our hotel had a fair number of Patriots fans milling about, and it was just a block away from 16th Street, the pedestrian mall that should be the starting point for any visitor’s trip to Denver. Not only are most of the bars, restaurants and anything else you might need during your stay on or near 16th Street, but there’s also a free shuttle bus service that travels up and down the street, with stops on each block, that you can take if you get lazy. This is important from a sports standpoint, because three of the city’s major sports venues — Sports Authority Field, Coors Field and the Pepsi Center — are on the west side of downtown and not excruciatingly far from 16th Street, so if you take the free bus to Blake Street or any point farther west, your walk to any of these venues is cut down significantly.

As it is, a glance at the map might suggest that Sports Authority Field in particular is a little too far to hoof it, but I can attest first-hand that it’s not that bad. Bring comfortable walking shoes and you might find the walk there from pretty much any point in the downtown area to actually be rather pleasant. If you’re still not convinced, there’s a light-rail line that drops you off close to the stadium, but if you ask me, the fare from downtown — two whole stops — is not worth it when the walk isn’t that bad.

The build-up

As you might have gathered from the previous few paragraphs, if you aren’t planning to drive to the game, park and fire up a grill (and if you’re visiting and don’t know anyone around, I’m gonna guess the chances of you doing that are pretty slim), then staying in the downtown core is probably your best option for getting yourself fed and/or inebriated. Most of those bars and restaurants are on 16th Street itself, but anywhere you go within a few blocks, you’re bound to find something. In this case, we were seeking Sunday brunch, and Mrs. Fan knew of a place a couple blocks from 16th Street that not only had a killer brunch menu, but specials on Bloody Marys and mimosas as well. So we had a jolly time tracking the early NFL games and talking football until about an hour and a half before kickoff.

From there, getting to the game wasn’t too hard. It was pretty much a stroll through the rest of downtown, then once we crossed Speer Boulevard, it was a matter of navigating a maze of parking lots (both for the Pepsi Center and the nearby Elitch Gardens amusement park) and following the crowd until we got to the stadium, which was in sight the whole time. Easy-peezy. (By the way, if you’re interested in tailgating, the amount of parking available for Broncos fans appears to be staggering. Most of it is actually on the other side of Interstate 25 from the stadium, but it’s not like there aren’t ways to get across.)

The ambiance

As you can imagine, Broncos fans were pretty fired up for this game, since it was their chance to prove their Tebow-led team could stand up to the NFL’s big boys. So they were out in full force with their signs and their custom-made T-shirts (and the atmosphere made the presence of the Jesus freaks that hang out near every large-scale public event kinda ironic). They were countered by a huge number of Patriots fans, most of whom descended from downtown like us. And we all converged, it seemed, on the east side of the stadium about an hour before kickoff, creating a bottleneck of Beijing traffic-like proportions.

Seriously, though, it wasn’t that bad. Security procedures required that we all line up by gender and wait to be frisked and/or searched. And we got to the gate right at the busiest time, so we waited nearly half an hour to get to the front. Once through, it became a question of getting to the upper deck, which required either another interminable wait to get on the escalators or a 10-minute walk up the series of ramps. We chose the latter, and it was at the end of this journey that it hit us — they don’t call this place the Mile High City for nothing. You forget about the altitude and what it does to you until you do something strenuous, and it took us maybe five minutes once we reached the 500 level to catch our breaths.

(Oh yeah — if you’re reading this because you’re planning your own trip to see a Broncos game, take this to heart more than anything else you read here: If you have seats on the 500 level, take note of exactly which section you’re in and where that section is in relation to the stadium layout before you get there. Or you’ll end up like us, realizing that your section is clear on the other side from where you ascended and that the fact the stadium has an open end means you have to walk all the way around to get there. And then people around you will be wondering why you’re cussing up a storm when the game hasn’t even started yet.)

Speaking of altitude, even if you’re in ultramarathon-type shape, you’ll still become cognizant of it in other ways. For example, if you’re way up in the “nosebleed” seats and you just watch the aisle for a little bit, it’s pretty much inevitable that you’ll see folks struggling to get up the steps from time to time. And not just because they’re winded — sometime during the second half, we noticed a woman walk up to our row (Row 29, if you were wondering), stop, and then very nearly fall backward down the steps. “She did a Matrix thing,” MongerTron said. Within seconds she was met by two people wearing those yellow jackets you always see at stadiums, but instead of “Event Staff” on their backs, the jackets read “Alcohol Control.” Yes, they have folks there whose sole job is to keep watch over the drunks (lending credence to the claim that people get drunker faster in high altitude).

I don’t think any of the Broncos fans near us moved from kickoff to final gun, but that might have been because they knew the whole altitude situation. (There were plenty of ‘em in short-sleeved shirts and/or shorts, so they were clearly acclimated. Meanwhile, we were wearing layers of sweaters and had to peel ‘em off one by one as we realized it wasn’t even cold enough to justify bundling up.) Tempted by the sight of nachos, we went down at some point during the second quarter to buy nachos and wound up missing not one but two Broncos turnovers, and one Patriots touchdown. By the end of the game, the Patriots had thoroughly asserted their dominance, but the stands didn’t start clearing out until maybe the final two minutes. They were probably all still on an altitude high (and the Broncos were on track for the playoffs despite the loss, anyway).

The damage

Tickets: $145 each before fees (purchased on StubHub)

Transportation: $0

Food: $22.50 for two orders of “ultimate” nachos and a bottle of water

Souvenirs: $0

Pardon our dust …

(seo.com)

You may or may not have noticed the subtle hints throughout this blog that my roots are in Southern California, and that fact has greatly shaped my view of sports and what my expectations are when attending sporting events. Well, I’m happy to deliver some news that is only slightly related to the blog but will have an impact on everything I do and everywhere I go in the future — myself and Mrs. Fan will be moving to the Los Angeles area within the next month.

The bad news is, all this change in my life likely means I’ll be blogging and tweeting much more infrequently over the next month or two (not that I was prolific to begin with). The good news is, I hope to have more opportunities to get to games, and to write about stadiums and travel, once I’m settled down. So I’m definitely looking forward to that. In the meantime, feel free to peruse everything I’ve written about in the past, and shoot me a line if you have any suggestions for me.

The great football stadium debate

Farmers Field (farmersfield.com)

If you’ve been following the news recently about Los Angeles’ quest to build a new football stadium (and if you’re a fan of the NFL teams in San Diego, Minnesota, St. Louis or Jacksonville, you probably have), then you know that there are two competing proposals, only one of which will get built. Both are spearheaded by billionaires who have plenty of experience building sports venues, and both have been trying for years to bring the NFL back to Los Angeles — and the way it’s looking now, one will succeed and make another NFL city very unhappy in the process.

That’s really all these two proposals have in common. The differences are what we’re interested in — and we’re not talking about the money involved or the political hoops each investor is jumping through to try to get his respective stadium built, because while those are certainly important issues, that’s not what this blog is about. (The Field of Schemes blog really does a good job chronicling that part of this saga.) For now, let’s explore what each stadium would offer in terms of fan experience if built, because they really encapsulate the two prevailing experiences you’ll find in current NFL stadiums around the country. Location is a major part of the experience, and while sports fans don’t have much of a say in where venues are built, they can certainly be vocal about what they want out of a venue, and their voices can have a subtle but significant effect on how venues are built.

Farmers Field

Based on media reports, this is the proposal more likely to win out, because it’s the one garnering most of the attention in the political world. Philip Anschutz’s AEG wants to build this stadium in downtown Los Angeles next to Staples Center, and if Anschutz or AEG sound familiar, it’s because they were behind the construction of Staples Center and a whole host of other sports venues around the world.

Farmers Field would go up in the center of the city, near one of the region’s busiest freeway interchanges and in an area that has been revitalized somewhat in the last 10 years by Staples Center’s presence. There would be a lot nearby in terms of entertainment options, restaurants, nightlife, etc. There would be plenty of public transportation options, but not many open parking lots (in fact, most of the parking options would involve garages). The possibility exists that a football game at Farmers Field would conflict with another event happening at Staples Center, the Nokia Theatre (which has hosted such events as the Emmys and Grammys) across the street or a handful of other venues downtown and in the surrounding area.

Grand Crossing (losangelesfootballstadium.com)

Grand Crossing

This project by Ed Roski’s Majestic Realty touts itself as everything Farmers Field is not: It’s farther along in the process and is “shovel ready,” theoretically meaning that all an NFL franchise has to do is say “We’re coming to L.A.” and they can start construction. It’s in a largely undeveloped tract of land some 25 miles east of Los Angeles, far from the congested jungle of downtown but actually closer to more of the Southland’s population (at least, according to them). Yet it appears to be the underdog in this race, largely because it doesn’t have the weight of the Los Angeles City Council and the California Legislature helping ramrod it through the pre-construction process.

The site is in the City of Industry, which is called that because it is literally a city of industry — very few people actually call the city home, thus the relative ease in acquiring the land and preparing it as a site for a potential football stadium (indeed, the most vociferous opposition came from the residents of neighboring towns who fear what a stadium will do for traffic in the area). Speaking of traffic, the site sits near a freeway interchange that’s busy, for sure, but not nearly the sort of nightmare downtown L.A. experiences. There’s not much in the way of public transportation to get to the area, but there’s plenty of room for parking lots and other development a la New England’s Patriot Place — in fact, Gillette Stadium is probably a pretty good comparison for what the Grand Crossing folks are going for here.

And that’s where we join the debate. Which site is better conducive to an optimal NFL fan experience? The answer depends on what you want to get out of a game. Maybe you’re the type that just wants to go to the game, get in and out as quickly as possible, and you don’t mind spending extra at the stadium concession stands. (Sounds like Farmers Field is your bag, then.) Or, you insist on getting there hours before the game in your RV so that you can set up your propane grill and LCD TV so that you can get your tailgate on. (If so, you must be rooting for Grand Crossing). Perhaps you want to get there early but mainly to beat the traffic, and you want to go to a restaurant and eat lunch and maybe quaff a few brews before going in. (Either would probably work for you.)

Me, I like to avoid driving as much as possible. I wouldn’t tailgate unless I have season tickets and a gameday routine down. I like walking around and exploring the area around the venue, and it always appeals to me more when there’s a vibrant area immediately surrounding the stadium. I don’t mind buying concessions if it’s a stadium I don’t visit often. So I tend to fall onto the Farmers Field side. But… tailgating is part of the essential fabric of being an American football fan. Can you really do that at a downtown stadium? Obviously, there are a few downtown stadiums around the league, but this is the argument I’ve seen used most often by pro-Grand Crossing folks.

Which one would you prefer?

Itinerary: U.S. Cellular Field, Chicago

Greetings, iFan-heads, J-Park here again, ready to magically whisk you away to another Midwest ballpark. Having already touted the greatness of the temple on the North Side, I’ll bring you a review of the White Sox’s home, which in many ways is the antithesis of Wrigley Field and I think Jerry Reinsdorf likes it that way. We ventured to the South Side on the Fourth of July, the day after we watched the pale-hosers drop the finale of a three-game set at Wrigley. This being our second of three days in Chicago we took in some sights at the Navy Pier (awesome, especially on the holiday) and the Museum of Science and Industry (underwhelming – go to the aquarium and Soldier Field instead) before setting out once again on the El for US Cellular Field.

(Note: When asking locals for directions to this venue, don’t refer to it as Comiskey Park. You’ll be met with blank stares, or told to refer to it as “The Cell.” Pop abhors corporate naming rights and thought he’d be clever when we were trying to find our way from the Museum of Science and Industry to the park only to have no one know what the hell these two Californians were talking about.)

The approach

“The Cell” is much closer to where we stayed than Addison and Clark, so a short 15-minute ride had us there quickly (would have been quicker if not for a nice climb the train has to make on its way approaching from the north). You wouldn’t be able to tell from looking at photos (in fact, the only reason I know how old the place is, is because I’m a huge fan of the Major League film franchise and it was featured in the sequel … in 1994), but New Comiskey Park is already in its 20th year and looks like it has at least twice as much life left in it. Part of the reason may be a renovation that took place right after they ended an 88-year title drought in 2005, but the design and aesthetics remain intact. On the way to the game we encountered one of the structural engineers assigned to the job, who was taking his 6-year old son to his first baseball game ever.

There is ample on-site parking and that seems to be the way most of the crowd gets there as the lots were pretty much full by the time we arrived, about 90 minutes before first pitch. Parking is $23 onsite, so the El for $2.25 is your best bet. The Sox-35th Station has an extensive bike lockup too, so if you’re so inclined as to pedal, they’ve got you covered.

US Cellular Field was built on the same site as old Comiskey Park, I would say in the shadow of, but the original is long gone and the monstrosity that sits there now can only be described as “freaking huge” and casts its own. A nice touch is that the original location of the plate and batters’ boxes are restored in the parking lot, a mere 100 yards or so from the main gate (which underscores just how tiny old Comiskey truly was).

The ambiance

Heads-up Sox fans, this next part’s gonna sting. Your customer service sucks. Plain and simple. Pop purchased seats in the 500 level but was not notified (a) that 500 level seat holders cannot access any other concourse (this is a sort of gray area in that some parks allow nosebleed seat holders to mill around) and (b) that our seats, though on the aisle, were obstructed big time. A rail at the top of the tunnel blocked our view of the area from the mound to the right side of the infield. As fast as Mark Buehrle works, I still like to be able to see the wind-up, not to mention changes in defensive positioning.

OK, with that out of the way, back to Praise Mode. The prevailing attitude in building this place had to have been “Bigger is better,” and in many respects, it is. The concourses are humongous (we got to see the 100 level, but not access it, despite a haggling session between Pop and an usher who kept repeating the rule like a broken record (it was actually pretty funny), and the ramps leading to the higher concourses – all eight switchbacks – were at least 40 feet wide. Once on a concourse you can’t walk more than about 10 feet without a souvenir stand, beer stand, concession or restroom. Most of the stands near both foul poles on the upper concourse were closed, but once you got toward the infield we encountered stands for Comiskey Dogs, other assorted sausages, nachos, pizza, BBQ, cheese curds, chicken tenders, etc. Basically anything you can get at a Sonic drive-in or Dairy Queen, you can get at US Cellular, plus a lot more.

Pop was delighted to find a Comiskey Dog before the game and purchased his customary three souvenir sodas (not a huge fan of the carbonated drink, he collects the cups and promised a few to friends back home) before the game while I was overjoyed to find a stand that mixed varietals of Leinenkugel’s (a Wisconsin-based micro-brew).

The best way to describe The Cell’s architecture is that it’s caught in a timewarp. It came a year before Baltimore’s Camden Yards set the stadium architecture world on its ear with its retro design, spawning about half a dozen spinoffs. In terms of shape, the seating bowl is actually quite reminiscent of old and New Yankee Stadiums in a rounded “V.” There is a deck all along the outfield rimming the top of the bleachers foul pole to foul pole with another bar/party deck above the batters eye in centerfield. As previously mentioned, the place is big, the footprint has to be the biggest in the league, save for the big box parks like Chase Field and Minute Maid Park. Another odd quirk is the sections in the lower bowl are tiny – about 10 seats across, each. Seems like a lot of money is being lost by having concrete steps every 10 seats rather than every 30.

Pretty much the only area we could visit with our Proletariat Level seats – or hey, maybe we weren’t but that usher was totally looking the other way – was the Bullpen Bar in right field, just beyond the visitor’s bullpen. Seems a heckler could really do some damage if he or she had the special tickets that allow one to pass through the bar into the outdoor area. Adorning the walls in the bar are pieces of Old Comiskey memorabilia, including a row of old seats and a portion of Bill Veeck‘s original famed “exploding scoreboard.”

We got to the seats right at first pitch and save for a grub/beer run in the sixth (this trip got me addicted to cheese curds) we were there for the duration. Being that it was a Mark Buehrle start, the game went by quick, despite featuring nine runs, a reviewed homer and several pitching changes for the visiting Royals. It was fun watching the Chicago faithful lustily boo Adam Dunn (who had been in a slump) his first two at-bats then hail him as a hero after a two-run homer in the eighth to give the South Side the lead. The crowd around us was ½ interested in the goings on down on the field and about ½ interested in the post-game fireworks show that seemed imminent. Then the dastardly Royals threatened to prolong the game to end under actual darkness by tying the game in the top of the ninth, much to the chagrin of those paying attention. Then, one of the highlights of the trip: The Sox scored a 5-4 balk-off victory after Kansas City All-Star reliever Aaron Crow began his motion out of the stretch then stepped off, which plated A.J. Pierzynski, who had pinch-hit to start the inning.

When Pierzynski was announced I nudged Pop and said, “Look, look! Your favorite former Giant! They’re pinch-hitting him just for you!” … I’m certain Mr. Fan can’t print his response. (Editor’s note: Sure I can!)

The damage

Tickets: $12 apiece, purchased through the team.

Food: $62 (Comiskey Dog, cheese curds, three souvenir sodas, four Leinenkugel’s Sunny Bears).

Souvenirs: $0

Itinerary: Wrigley Field, Chicago

While this blog has largely been my solitary domain, I’m always happy to let friends invade this space if they’ve got a good story to tell, and if they enjoy traveling to watch sports as much as I do. That’s where pal J-Park comes in — we’ve seen a few games together, and when he told me about his plan to go see four ballparks in the Midwest this summer, it became a natural fit to have him blog for the site. So it seems apropos that his first entry is about the Friendly Confines. Look for three more Itineraries from him in the near future, and maybe a lot more contributions down the line (that is, if he isn’t sick of my incessant demands by then).

* * *

Greetings sports travel heads, it is I, fellow sports travel enthusiast (and loyal Itinerant Fan reader) J-Park here to deliver to you the first of four reviews from a recent vacation to the Midwest with my Pop. Five years ago we went on a once-in-a-lifetime (or so I thought at the time) trip to the Eastern Seaboard visiting Fenway Park (his all-time favorite), the Hall of Fame, old Yankee Stadium (we sidestepped Shea because, well …), RFK Stadium and Camden Yards. When, earlier this spring I was planning to visit one of my very best college buddies, Big Red, a lifelong Cubs fan, in western Illinois, the idea popped into my head that Pop may want to see Wrigley as well. He agreed, on one condition: “We need to see more parks.” (More on that in subsequent posts). After spending four days in Galesburg, IL, Big Red, Mrs. Red and I left 1 1/2-year old Mini Red with Queen Green (Mrs. Red’s mother) and met up with Pop in Chicago for an interleague tilt between the Cubs and White Sox.

The approach

Confession: I’ve never been especially religious, at least in the traditional go to church, pray and tithe deal. Sports occupy the space that religion would if I were a person of faith and to that end, I have found a new house of worship: Wrigley Field be thy name. Call Wrigleyville Vatican City.

Pop and I were staying in the Loop a scant two blocks from Grant Park and just one block from the Harrison stop of the El’s workhorse Red Line. We rose around 8:30 a.m. (I was like a kid on Christmas morning, got ready and were on the train by 9. This is truly the way to experience Chicago and Wrigley. A leisurely 25-minute ride through the city’s northern neighborhoods had us in Wrigleyville about three hours before game time. Public transit is your best option as there is not a parking lot to be found anywhere close although there are locals who will “rent” their parking spaces to attendees. And you get to haggle with them, so that can be fun.

The build-up

The thing to realize about Wrigley Field is that yes, it is 97 years old and yes, inside it shows its age. But the true Wrigley experience is how the whole community within about a five block radius comes together to celebrate the team, the game and and yard. The “Friendly Confines” moniker is not merely confined to the interior of the park. There is not shortage of things to do (though imbibing seems to be the favorite pastime before, during and after). Every street corner has T-shirt vendors (see photo above), some officially licensed, most not. There are plenty of bars and restaurants ranging from the the hole-in-the wall to upscale. We strolled the area immediately in front, chatting up the locals, one of whom, let’s call him Brixen Ivy, told us we were right to attend a day game (“Damn the lights,” which went up in 1988, he said. He also seemed to take great joy in telling the story of how the first night game at Wrigley was actually rained out) but was disappointed we weren’t seated in the bleachers. We were not disappointed, given that they’re first-come, first serve, people line up hours before to get in and they’re cut off from the rest of the of the park.

The rooftop scene is great too, though, at least I thought, the TV gives it a false perception of how close you are and the sightlines. Though they are better than say, the 700 level at the old Veterans Stadium or some of the upper reaches of the other cookie cutters of the ’70s, judging from where we were, there is no way you can see more than about 2/3 of the field at any time. And if you are planning on going that route, I recommend looking into the ones in right field as the ones in left pretty much face the third-base concourse. WrigleyRooftops.com is where you order tickets for that, though they are pricey (but include unlimited food and drink).

We first met up with Big Red, who had stayed in a different hotel the night before, to give him his ticket. Mrs. Red, a former seven-year Chicago resident was lunching with some friends still in the area. After a pregame Leinie’s Summer Shandy with Big Red, me and Pop headed into the Pearly White Gates.

The ambiance

The place just oozes baseball. The fact that the team hasn’t won a championship in 103 years does nothing to subtract from the allure. As soon as you walk in, you can SMELL baseball (it smells a lot like meat grilling with peppers and onion). Being 94 years old, the concourses are a little more narrow than you would encounter at most newer facilities, bathrooms are fewer and further between and switchback ramps are the only way to get from the lower concourse to the upper (see photo above). The field is at street level so when you walk in, you have to walk up to in order to get to your seat, no matter where it is.

At Wrigley, baseball is the star, so the modern amenities one would anticipate at say, AT&T Park or Target Field, are nowhere to be found. There isn’t much to do except soak up the fact that you are actually at Wrigley Field (which is what I did).

There is no large video board to be found (in fact, the only electronic displays are a smaller version of the kind that hang along the upper decks of every park nowadays) and the manually-operated out of town scoreboard only lists 12 games, prioritizing those in progress.

There is a bar inside near the right-field foul pole, though in-seat beer service (!) is available and frequently used by locals and tourists alike. The food selection, like the park, is beautiful in its simplicity. Hot dogs, brats, nachos (for some reason wildly popular in the Midwest), pizza (from local purveyor D’Agostino’s), peanuts and cracker jack is all you’re going to find and from the looks of it, there aren’t many complaints.

Pop and I milled around the gift shop for a bit, then grabbed some grilled meat and sodas and headed to the seats about 20 minutes ahead of first pitch. Big Red got to the seats just before first pitch while Mrs. Red, still catching up with recently-engaged friends, arrived during the third inning. We sat in the upper portion of the lower deck, shaded mercifully by the upper deck, about midway up, looking out on right field. One tip about buying tickets for Wrigley: Do your homework. It’s old and there are support beams all around the lower and upper decks. There are a few helpful websites to help you navigate it. Also, the numbering is very odd as aisles intersect sections giving the seating very odd numbers (for example, Pop and I occupied seats 9 and 10, but Big Red and Mrs. Red were in 111 and 112).

They do the anthem and “God Bless America” before the game because “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” takes precedence during the seventh-inning stretch. The day we were there, the Sunday of Fourth of July weekend, none other than Mr. Cub himself, Ernie Banks, was the honorary singer. He was greeted with more than a few chants of “Let’s play two!” from the Wrigley faithful.

When your team hasn’t won in a long time and your park is among the premier tourist destinations in baseball, it would be understood if not condoned, for you to feel a little bitterness. Not to be found at all at Wrigley. The Friendly Confines moniker fits the fanbase like ivy on brick. Though the fans behind us had armrest GM traded away nearly the entire roster by the end of the game, electing only to keep second-year shortstop Starlin Castro.

The game saw the homeside nine salvage the series with a 3-1 win over the Southsiders. This being a holiday weekend, I have to imagine the atmosphere was somewhat more boisterous than normal, but according to Mrs. Red, the bars surrounding the park are packed day and night, win or lose.

The damage

Tickets: $85 apiece. Purchased through StubHub.

Food & Drink: $50 (A hot dog, a brat, and two sodas and five Old Style beers).

Souvenirs: $60 (Shirt for me, shirt for Pop, shirt for Scissor Sister).

Itinerary: Angel Stadium, Anaheim

There’s a cheesy saying that goes, “You’ll always remember your first time.” I know, it sounds like the tagline for a really bad movie, but there is some truth to it, and certainly the premise of it applies to sports fans and the games they attend. So let me regale (OK, bore) you with tales of my first time.

The year was 1986. I was not yet 10 years old, and I was given the invitation to attend a California Angels game with my uncle and two cousins — one who was my age, the other a couple years younger. I thought that was a little curious since none of the three had ever shown any indication that they even liked baseball, but whatever — I had never seen a sporting event live before, so this was an opportunity I could not pass up. After all, the Angels were hot that year, and they would eventually win their division before meeting up with some spectacular heartbreak. For the first time in my life, I had a favorite athlete: Doug DeCinces, the Angels’ third baseman. (I don’t even remember why I liked him as opposed to any other Angel. I just did.) And Anaheim Stadium, where the Angels and L.A. Rams played, was the closest sports venue to my house.

A few things stood out from the night I saw sports live for the first time: The game was against the Baltimore Orioles. We sat in the very top row of the stadium, third-base side. I was right about my cousins not liking baseball, since at one point one of them was studying the linescore on the scoreboard and asked me if the “2 5 0″ on the Angels’ line under “R H E” meant that the Angels had “25 points.” Eventually he and his brother discovered that there was a gap in the concrete behind the row of seats through which you could see people hanging out on the concourse below, so they took to amusing themselves by dropping peanut shells on unsuspecting folks. Meanwhile, I was enthralled by the PA announcer who insisted on announcing every player’s name the exact same way: first name, two-second pause, then last name twice as loud and twice as fast, with the emphasis always on the second-to-last syllable no matter how his name was constructed. Which meant that when the Orioles’ shortstop came to bat, you’d hear, “Cal … RipkenJUNior.”

There are a few things I don’t remember about that game, such as whether the Angels won or lost, but that didn’t matter. My love affair with Anaheim Stadium was born. I’ve been to probably close to 100 events there since then, with family, with friends and alone, and seen it transformed from an ugly multipurpose stadium ill-fitted for both football and baseball to a Disney-ified theme park that just happened to host baseball to what’s now a pure ballpark in the middle of suburbia, cozier than it looks and with plenty of charm in its aging nooks and crannies. And it still means enough to our family that when the notoriously finicky Twisted Sister‘s birthday came up earlier this month, I took her to the Big A and she actually considered it a pretty good gift.

The approach

I’ve already covered in previous posts about LA-area stadiums that driving is always your top option, and in some cases your only option. There is an alternative for Angel Stadium in commuter rail, though I’ve never done it and I have a hard time imagining Metrolink, which most riders ride to make really long (both in time and distance) commutes to work, as something you’d want to use for an evening trip to a ballgame. But the station is right on the edge of Angel Stadium’s massive parking lot, so if you’ve got $7 to spare and don’t feel like driving, that’s certainly an option.

As for you drivers, you can access the stadium from one of three major freeways (Interstate 5 and routes 57 and 22) that come together just to the southeast to form something locals ruefully call the “Orange Crush.” One you’re off the freeway, you’ll find the stadium surrounded by condo buildings, office towers (and by “towers” I mean 10-15 stories) and strip malls with mostly chain restaurants.

The build-up

Being SoCal raised, we drove to the game. I’ll let you in on our secret route, though — it works if you’re coming on I-5 southbound, though I believe it’s the same if you’re going north: Go into the carpool lane (legally, please) and exit at Gene Autry Way. Head down the street (you can only turn one way) and you’ll see the stadium in the distance. However, before you get to State College Boulevard and the stadium lots, where you’ll have to pay $10, park instead in one of the business lots along Gene Autry as you approach. The cost increases as you get closer, but we snagged a space for $3. The walk to the stadium is twice as long, but very easy, and hey, you get some added exercise out of it.

You’re welcome.

Now, as alluded to above, the stadium is pretty much in the middle of suburbia, and surrounded by condo buildings (many of which weren’t around 15 years ago) and office complexes. A couple miles south of the park on State College is a retail complex called The Block, which has a ton of restaurants and other activities for you to pass the time if you are so inclined. And of course, Disneyland and all its hanger-on businesses are no more than a couple miles down the road off Katella Avenue. For us, though, the home in which we grew up was a mere 15 miles away, so we saw no reason to leave for the game until we were sure we wanted to go into the park.

The ambiance

Angel Stadium is an old lady that’s gotten a bit of a facelift and made to look modern, but signs of its age are still readily apparent. For example, its corridors have been dressed up in a lot of areas, but in others they’re barren and worn (particularly when you get toward the outfield in less-traveled areas). Still, they’ve done a good job matching up to newer facilities in terms of accoutrements.

There’s probably no better example of this than along the field-level concourses, where areas that used to just be extra gates back in my early days of Angel fandom have been transformed into what are essentially outdoor food courts — the one on the third-base side was filled with usual suspects like Carls Jr. and Panda Express, but it also featured a barbecue stand and a number of picnic tables shaded by palm trees. A very SoCal scene if ever I saw one. There was also a beer stand in this area akin to what you’d see next to a hotel pool, and Twisted Sister made a beeline for it knowing that I had promised to pay for everything over the course of the night. The stand offered an interesting range of selections, for a ballpark, anyway, and we settled on two pints of Pacifico for $12.50 each. (Good thing we were already stuffed from a birthday lunch with the family, or else my wallet would’ve been a lot emptier by the end of the night.)

We did do a bit more exploring along the main concourse, popping our heads into the team store (a little cramped) and looking at the display case containing mementos from the 2002 World Series title (can’t believe that was nearly a decade ago now). We also got a peek into the home-plate club area, where people undoubtedly spent hundreds of dollars to dine on a buffet of what looked like turkey wraps and wilted salads, and stumbled upon a concession stand selling fresh fruit, which blew apart the notion I had when I visited Citi Field in New York that no other stadium offered anything like that.

Keeping along the birthday theme, I spent a little bit more on tickets than I normally would in situations like these — $36 each for two field-level seats in left field, right around the foul pole. The sight line was good, but not great, but as it turned out, we had picked a great pitching matchup to see — Anaheim’s Dan Haren vs. Detroit’s Justin Verlander. So the game flew by (yes, even for an American League tilt) as a pitcher other than Haren or Verlander threw exactly one pitch in the game, and it ended 1-0 Angels on the strength of Haren’s two-hitter. That gave us barely enough time to consume our beers and buy a cotton candy before it was time to bid farewell… at least, until the next time.

The damage

Tickets: $36 each

Parking: $3

Food: $29 for two beers and a cotton candy

Souvenirs: $0, though I saw an ’80s-era Angels jersey for about $115 that I would’ve bought on the spot if it had had Doug DeCinces’ name on it.

My ballpark rankings (alternate title: Just go visit every park already — but here’s a handy priority list if you need one)

With baseball season in full swing, and undoubtedly so many baseball fans in the middle of their annual road trips to various ballparks around the country, it’s also that time of year where various people put out rankings of the major leagues’ 30 parks. I suppose that I should as well, despite the notable handicap of not having been to all 30 parks currently in use. But first, let’s delve into the science of ballpark rankings, shall we?

I think rankings make for good debate, for sure, because of their subjectivity — you’ll have plenty of people agreeing with you, and people calling you a danged fool because they disagree. But I also believe you shouldn’t take any one set of rankings as gospel, or let rankings influence which ballparks you visit and when you visit them. While some ballparks offer up better food, and some have better sightlines, and some are in better neighborhoods, the fact of the matter is that there are only 30 places in the country (excuse me, 29 in the U.S. and one in Canada) where you can see a major-league game, and that fact alone makes a major-league ballpark worth visiting. From there, the ones you like better will be determined solely by your personal experience there, and that, of course, will be different for everyone.

There are plenty of ways to rank ballparks: One recently appeared in the New York Times that used each ballpark’s average rating on Yelp, which I have to admit is pretty ingenious. ESPN, Sports Illustrated and Forbes have come out with rankings in recent years, and of course a Google search will turn up many independent bloggers who can offer up their rankings.

As I embark on my own rankings, I think about a food critic’s column I read not long ago in which he tries to rank his city’s best burgers, but a line in it has always struck me. To paraphrase, since I don’t remember it verbatim: “The best burger is the one that is your favorite.” That’s it. How you define “favorite” is solely up to you, and is to be judged by whatever criteria you come up with. And that, like all tastes, can change over time; therefore I reserve the right (as should anyone who does these types of lists) to revise these rankings as I visit more parks, and as teams make changes from year to year.

So let’s call these rankings a list of my favorite ballparks, along with what I think are the best and worst things about them. If you read this blog often, you’ll see that I pay particular attention to certain things over others — namely, its location in the city and its proximity to major entertainment districts; its accessibility via public transportation; the uniqueness of its architecture; and the quality and variety of its food. None of those should be surprises. Where the subjectivity comes in is in how I rate these things, because maybe I loved the seafood dog I had at Safeco Field, whereas your Ichiroll was not up to your standards. Or maybe I love the view of downtown Pittsburgh from PNC Park, but you only consider what’s going on inside the park.

Anyway, enough of the disclaimers. Here’s how I would rank the MLB ballparks:

1. AT&T Park, San Francisco

Pro: Food choices are incredible, and so is the view.

Con: Corridors and concourses are cramped.

2. Target Field, Minneapolis

Pro: Downtown entertainment district just steps away.

Con: Gotta think April games can get unpleasantly cold.

3. PNC Park, Pittsburgh

Pro: View beyond outfield of bridge, skyline is best in the majors.

Con: You’re likely to be watching some bad baseball.

4. Camden Yards, Baltimore

Pro: It’ll always be the original retro ballpark.

Con: Concourses are detached from the action.

5. Fenway Park, Boston

Pro: Despite its age, park feels cozy rather than dilapidated.

Con: Aisles and seats are sized to 1912 specifications.

6. Petco Park, San Diego

Pro: Outfield Supply Building and “Park in the Park” unique, brilliant.

Con: Winding ramps, corridors can get confusing.

7. Citi Field, New York

Pro: They went all out in dining options and it shows.

Con: Like Shea, location is a deterrent.

8. Citizens Bank Park, Philadelphia

Pro: Outfield Ashburn Alley has become a standard to emulate.

Con: Too far away from city center.

9. Miller Park, Milwaukee

Pro: You must try a bratwurst.

Con: They built it too far away from downtown.

10. Angel Stadium, Anaheim

Pro: Nearly every seat is a good one.

Con: Outfield waterfall remnant of unpleasant Disney era.

11. Coors Field, Denver

Pro: Sits at edge of lively downtown district.

Con: Some seats feel very far from field.

12. Safeco Field, Seattle

Pro: Atmosphere fits in perfectly with Pacific Northwest.

Con: Blaring train horns can get annoying.

13. Dodger Stadium, Los Angeles

Pro: View beyond outfield stunning, especially in daylight.

Con: You must drive, and parking’s a nightmare.

14. Progressive Field, Cleveland

Pro: Layout of concourses make walking around easy and fun.

Con: High-up seats feel really high up.

15. Wrigley Field, Chicago

Pro: Charming neighborhood surrounds ballpark.

Con: Yes, it’s a landmark, but age really shows.

16. Turner Field, Atlanta

Pro: Wide concourses and carnival-like area in center field.

Con: Why doesn’t Atlanta subway have a stop there?

17. Chase Field, Phoenix

Pro: Closed roof, A/C a huge relief in heat.

Con: I’ve never gotten used to its strange dimensions.

18. Minute Maid Park, Houston

Pro: Quirky dimensions make games entertaining.

Con: Surprisingly little to do around ballpark.

19. Comerica Park, Detroit

Pro: For sports fan, area around ballpark is paradise.

Con: Left-field scoreboard is in awkward place.

20. Great American Ball Park, Cincinnati

Pro: Cincy food favorites well-represented.

Con: View of Ohio River leaves much to be desired.

21. Rogers Centre, Toronto

Pro: Terrific location, in shadow of CN Tower.

Con: Once revolutionary, it’s now just outdated.

22. U.S. Cellular Field, Chicago

Pro: Chicago-style food options are amazing.

Con: Once game ends, you just want to get out of the area.

23. Overstock Coliseum, Oakland

Pro: Cheap tickets, good sightlines for most areas.

Con: Since NFL returned, architecture is hideous.

24. Sun Life Stadium, Miami

Pro: Uh, it’s a great place to watch football?

Con: Too many to count. At least the Marlins are getting a new ballpark next year.

Ballparks I haven’t seen: (new) Yankee Stadium, New York; Nationals Park, Washington; Tropicana Field, St. Petersburg, Fla.; Rangers Ballpark, Arlington, Texas; (new) Busch Stadium, St. Louis; Kauffman Stadium, Kansas City.

Itinerary: Safeco Field, Seattle

While every big city has a few unique traits of which it’s unfailingly proud, Seattle seems to wear its uniqueness more on its sleeve than most other cities. That is to say, it’s hard to visit Seattle and not get immersed in its little quirks. Take the whole coffee thing, for example. I don’t drink coffee, but after walking a few blocks downtown and seeing three coffee shops at every intersection and half the passersby carrying coffee cups, you start to feel guilty that you aren’t drinking coffee.

There are a few other things that are undeniably Seattle, such as overcast skies, men who dress like Paul Bunyan, flying fish and aggressive homeless people (seriously, though, I can assure you that love Seattle). You can add stadium architecture to that list, too. You have a football stadium that looks something like a flying saucer — and I’m sure it looked more like it the weekend I visited because there was a U2 concert being held there. You have a basketball arena (since abandoned by the NBA) that looks a bit like the world’s largest Pizza Hut. And then there’s Safeco Field, which I’m sure visitors who don’t know anything about baseball mistake every day for a hangar for nearby Boeing. Mrs. Fan and I took in a Sunday matinee there earlier this month, and we can attest that once you’re inside, anyway, it feels like a ballpark through and through.

The approach

If you look on a map, it’s easy to think that Safeco Field, and Qwest Field, for that matter, are downtown. Not quite — they’re in an area of town called SoDo, or “South of Downtown” (a few years back, the Mariners had a marketing campaign based around the slogan “SoDo Mojo,” and though I had no idea what it meant at the time, it was catchy enough that it still comes to mind whenever I think about the Mariners). There are a few restaurants and bars in the vicinity, particularly north of Qwest Field in the Pioneer Square area, but lodging is a little scarce.

We stayed downtown, a few blocks from Westlake Center, which is arguably the center of the city and the hub for Seattle’s admittedly meager public transportation options. Most of the major hotels in downtown Seattle are within reach of this area, since it’s near Pike Place Market, the waterfront and anywhere else tourists might think to go (but this area is surprisingly far from Seattle Center, where the Space Needle is). Luckily, Seattle does have light rail that extends from downtown all the way to Seattle-Tacoma Airport (hallelujah), and there is a Stadium stop that puts you steps from Safeco Field. We saw plenty of fans using light rail to get to the game, and after the game the station was crowded — but not uncomfortably packed.

Walking from downtown to Safeco Field is possible (yes, I have done it before) but it’s a good distance — more than a mile — and if you attempt it, you will quickly discover that Seattle is hilly. Not San Francisco hilly, mind you, but hilly enough that you’d better be in pretty good shape or you’ll be hating life rather quickly.

The build-up

As mentioned above, the Pioneer Square area directly north of the ballpark has restaurants and bars and such for you to partake in food and drink before entering, if you so desire. But the presence of light rail makes it possible for you to spend your pregame time and dollars somewhere else and then head right down to the game, which is a beautiful thing. And if you’re downtown, the options are certainly better and more varied than if you were close to the ballpark.

One thing I found interesting was the number of street vendors you pass as you get close. I know, they’re near a lot of stadiums, but in Seattle they seem to have developed something of a cottage industry. You have folks selling hot dogs, selling chips, selling water — and one water vendor had a sign suggesting you buy a bottle for $1, drink or pour out the contents before you get into the park, then once you’re in, fill up the bottle at the water fountain (yes, all of this info was on a sign).

If you’re coming from the light-rail station like we were, it’s a two-block walk to the nearest gate. But the path we took also involved walking up some steps and along some sort of viaduct, then walking back down steps to get back to street level — all that so that pedestrians can cross over some railroad tracks that run alongside the ballpark. (Side note: Safeco’s retractable roof, which just shifts to the side rather than nests in on itself like most other retractable stadium roofs, practically hangs over these tracks when it’s not covering the field. So if a train passes during a game and it blows its horn, the noise tends to reverberate through the ballpark. When Safeco opened this was touted as one of its charms, though if you ask me, the word I’d use to describe it is “annoying.”) Anyway, if you’re not averse to climbing steps, the view of downtown Seattle from atop the viaduct is actually quite stunning and worth the trip.

The ambiance

The first thing I noticed once I was inside the gates and on the main concourse was a directory of concession stands much like what you’d see in a mall. That’s the first time I’ve ever seen something like that at a stadium, and it makes me wonder, why doesn’t every stadium do this? Seriously. If you’re willing to explore and walk all the concourses, that’s one thing. But I’m sure a lot of fans walk in thinking they just want a hamburger, or a local beer, or garlic fries — something specific — and don’t want to scour the whole stadium looking for that particular item. Solution? The food directory. Pretty ingenious, Safeco Field.

Mrs. Fan and I walked the concourse, which is wide and spacious and has a couple of hidden nooks that contain more concession stands and little exhibits, such as one along the third-base side that held the Mariners Hall of Fame and a cool mural of perhaps the franchise’s most celebrated moment (see the above photo). The food selection is pretty varied and served up at a bunch of stands that have horrible puns for names (my favorite: Intentional Wok). There was a sushi stand in that out-of-the-way Hall of Fame section that served something called the Ichiroll, which is all well and good except that nowhere at the stand could I find a description of what’s in the damn thing. So I passed. We eventually settled on a seafood stand serviced by a local chain called Ivar’s (they have a stand at the airport, too), where Mrs. Fan got clams and chips and I got an Ivar’s dog — two pieces of fried cod (would’ve been better if it was halibut, but oh well) and cole slaw on an oversized hot dog bun. I highly recommend it.

Our seats, in the upper deck along the first-base line, were not bad except for the fact that it was Little League Day, so we were surrounded by a bunch of kids and their parents. The kids were having a great time, but the patronizing parents who spent the afternoon acting like they care about baseball when they obviously don’t so that they can talk to their kids got to be too much after a bit. We spent about five innings listening to the mom behind us going “Oh, is it gonna be a home run?” on every popup behind the infield before we decided to explore the stadium more. Besides, Mrs. Fan wanted dessert.

We sought out refuge in left field — it’s somewhat hard to find, but there’s a staircase leading downward from the main concourse, and on first glance you’d think it only leads to a spot where you can view the bullpens from behind a chain-link fence. It turns out there’s a whole party area down there complete with gourmet concessions, a pretty big bar and a patio with tables. Seemed like only the college kids knew about this, since 95 percent of the people down there were young, underdressed considering the overcast sky and holding beers.

The important thing to us, though, was that there was a stand serving crepes, and we spent the rest of the game sharing a banana-Nutella crepe (how romantic), watching the Mariners rally, blow the lead and then rally again, and staring at Brandon League’s garish neck tattoo as he warmed up before earning the save. That definitely beat hanging around Little League moms.

The damage

Tickets: $20 each before Ticketmaster fees

Transportation: $4 each for roundtrip light-rail tickets between Westlake Center and Stadium stations

Food: $33 for one order of clams and chips, one seafood dog, one banana-Nutella crepe and two bottles of water

Souvenirs: $0

Itinerary: Citi Field, New York

In New York they always have to do things two ways: big and elegant. It stands to reason that a new ballpark in New York would be the same way. But while you expect that sort of thing from the Yankees, whose apparent mission in life is to be bigger and more elegant than everyone else (while also hogging all the glory), it’s a little less expected when it comes to the Mets.

If the Yankees and Mets were brothers, the Yankees would be the handsome older brother that did everything right growing up, won all sorts of awards (spelling bee, science fair, what have you), was valedictorian of his high school class, enrolled in college a couple years early and finished in three years, then breezed through law school and was a hotshot lawyer by 22, and is now a three-term senator. The Mets would be that slightly less attractive younger sibling who also won a few awards, graduated fourth in his high school class, completed college in four years, followed his brother’s path into law school and is now a respected trial lawyer. Impressive, yes, but forever doomed to be overshadowed by the accomplishments of big brother. And while the pangs of jealousy still surface every now and then, they’re perfectly satisfied with their lot in life (OK, so maybe you’ll have to suspend this metaphor at this point considering the Mets’ current place in the standings).

When the two teams decided to open ballparks at the same time, you had to think the Yankees’ digs would be so much nicer than the Mets’ place. I haven’t yet visited the new Yankee Stadium, so I don’t know for myself whether that’s true. But with Citi Field, the Mets sure seem to have built a nice little home for themselves. Perhaps it’s fitting that a row of auto body shops sit across the street, but say you wanted to buy a vacation home on Cape Cod and instead settled for a getaway pad in Kennebunkport, Maine. Maybe it wasn’t your ideal spot, but it sure is pretty damn nice nonetheless. Especially for gastrophiles, as myself and Mrs. Fan very quickly found out a few weeks ago when we took in a Mets-Phillies game. And, let’s face it, the old Shea Stadium was one of the biggest dumps in baseball, so they didn’t need to try that hard to improve the fan experience.

The approach

If you’ve ever considered going to a Mets game then you probably know about the 7 train. Heck, if you’re a sports fan at all, you probably know about the 7 train, since the same stop (Willets Point, which used to include “Shea Stadium” in its name but now is referred to as “Mets-Willets Point,” presumably in case Citibank goes belly up sometime down the road and the ballpark’s name changes) is also used to access the USTA National Tennis Center, home of the U.S. Open. The subway is the only way to get to Citi Field from Manhattan without spending gobs of money on parking or a cab, or sitting through tear-inducing traffic. And despite what this guy thought a few years back, the experience isn’t that bad. If you’re making the trip within two hours of the game, you’re traveling with mostly baseball fans anyway. Just know that if you’re starting from Times Square or Grand Central Stadium, the ride is a good 45 minutes — half an hour if you’re lucky enough to get on one of those express trains. If you’re coming from any of the other boroughs, you’re guaranteed to end up on the 7 at some point.

Oh, so you want to drive? There are plenty of options — Grand Central Parkway, Long Island Expressway, etc. I’ve only made the drive from New Jersey, but I’ve done it several times and used a few different routes. They’re all painful. If you get anything at all out of this blog entry, it should be this: Don’t drive to Citi Field. Take public transit. Most New Yorkers already know this. If you’re visiting from some place that’s car-reliant and that’s all you know, fight your inhibitions and use the train. If not, then don’t blame me if you slipped just a little bit closer to insanity.

As for me and Mrs. Fan, we had spent the day visiting friends in Brooklyn, so when the time came to head to the game, we hopped on the G train, caught the 7 at Court Square and made it to Citi Field a good 15 minutes earlier than we had anticipated. No hair was pulled in the process.

The build-up

Personally, I’m a fan of stadiums in downtown areas, and I downgrade venues that don’t have much around them in the way of retail, entertainment, etc. — the reason being that I don’t want to feel like once I get there, I have to go in and buy overpriced food and drink and sit there for an hour waiting for the game to start. Citi Field certainly falls into this category, at least if you don’t know the area. (If you do, there’s a predominantly Italian neighborhood immediately to the west that includes a deli called Leo’s Latticini, or Mama’s of Corona, that New Yorkers absolutely swear by. But they have stands in the ballpark, too.) However, this is one venue that has made it absolutely worth it to go in early, walk around, and especially eat. More on that later.

In our case, we needed to get there early because we violated one of my cardinal rules of visiting a sporting event that I’d never been to before — we didn’t buy tickets until the day of the game. Part of it was that we weren’t 100 percent committed to going until a few days before; part of it was also that we were confident walk-up tickets would be available. We were definitely right on that count — turns out there are other entertainment options in New York on a Saturday night — and managed to snag two tickets in the upper deck, third-base side. Later on, when we arrived at our seats, we found out why they had still been available: the glass partition and the railing for the steps leading to the aisle were directly in our line of vision toward home plate. We sat there for maybe an inning and a half before deciding to move to left field (yes, left field) for a better view.

The ambiance

Citi Field is a beautiful place — spacious, clean (it had better be since it’s only a couple years old) and with a few interesting features, notably the old Shea Stadium home run apple that sits just outside the front entrance; the front entrance itself, which bears a striking resemblance to a ballpark of yore (makes you wonder why they didn’t attempt to find a spot in Brooklyn to build it); and, just inside the entrance, a plaza that pays tribute to Jackie Robinson, complete with running video highlights of his playing days and various mementos.

OK, now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk about the food, since I’ve teased it twice already. I have three words to describe it: Oh. My. God. The selection is simply astounding. Off the top of my head, here are just some of the items available:

• Pulled pork sandwiches
• Fresh-cut french fries with dipping sauces
• Lobster rolls
• Burgers/shakes from Shake Shack
• Nathan’s hot dogs/french fries
• Italian heroes
• Sushi
• Fried chicken
• Carnitas
• Ribs
• Made-to-order pasta
• Edamame (haven’t seen that since I saw a game in Japan)
• Chinese stir-fry dishes
• Fruit (!)
• Baked desserts (cupcakes and the like)
• Antipasto
• Fried fish sandwiches

Turns out both the Mets and Yankees went all out in their planning of concession stands at their new digs, making more of an effort to bring fine dining to the masses. Just walk around the main concourse and you’ll see something to your liking eventually. Also, unlike a lot of other stadiums, most of the options down below are also available in the upper deck, particularly in what amounts to a food court behind home plate. It was in this area that I ran into an old friend from my East Coast days, Finger Food, who was there in a journalistic capacity, but was waiting for the Mama’s of Corona stand to open so he could buy an Italian hero. He said without hesitation that Citi Field was the best food ballpark in the nation, ahead of San Francisco’s AT&T Park (which has long been my choice in that department). After surveying the options, I’m more inclined to agree with him.

Mrs. Fan didn’t hesitate, buying a fried chicken drumstick before the game. I hemmed and hawed for a little bit, then finally decided on a standard-issue hamburger from the Nathan’s stand. Poor choice — or was it? I was motivated by the condiment stand. You know how at most stadiums the condiment choices are usually ketchup, mustard and relish in these big bins that you depress like bottles of lotion? Those aren’t the only options at Citi Field, and this might be what really sets it apart. They have what looks like a salad bar that includes, among other things, peppers, shredded lettuce, diced red onions and sauteed mushrooms. And the last item is what really got me going — anyone who knows me knows I love mushrooms, and by the time I was done with the condiment bar I had what essentially was a sauteed mushroom burger with a beef patty below (I resisted the urge to go back with my empty paper tray to get more, and in my defense, we saw at least one other guy do the exact same thing). So yes, my standard-issue hamburger was really good.

Plus, we made up for it later by heading down to the main concourse to buy a lobster roll (delicious, if not small for $17), and it was from a standing-room spot in right field that we watched the Phillies come back from a 2-0 deficit to win. The Phils’ eighth-inning rally delighted Mrs. Fan, a card-carrying Phils fan, and pissed off some wiry-looking older guy who tried to pick a fight with the Phillies fans near us for, in his words, “yelling in my wife’s ear” after the Phillies surged ahead. Security came in and told the Phillies fans to leave their spot, presumably for the sake of the Mets fan’s sanity.

When the nearest usher went back to his post guarding the aisle right next to me, I remarked, “Just another day at the ballpark, huh?” referring to the near-fight. “Yeah,” he said. “They just don’t know how to hold leads.” No word on whether he was able to drown out his sorrows at Shake Shack after the game.

The damage

Tickets: $28 each

Transportation: About $7.50 each for MTA subway fare to the game from Brooklyn, then back to Penn Station afterward (not counting New Jersey transit fare from where we were staying).

Food: $29 for a hamburger, a chicken drumstick, a lobster roll and two bottles of water.

Souvenirs: $0, though we searched the team store for a stuffed Mr. Met (alas, we didn’t see one).

Itinerary: Citizens Bank Park, Philadelphia

Since The Itinerant Fan is a blog about being a sports fan and this particular entry is about seeing a game in Philadelphia, perhaps it’s best to get this out of the way first: There’s nothing to be scared of.

Sports fans in Philadelphia tend to get a bad rap around the country as being boorish, angry, etc. — it gets mentioned a lot on TV, usually with the example cited that fans once booed Santa Claus. Certainly incidents such as this and this can be used to justify this reputation, but in my opinion it’s really been overblown. I have the benefit of having lived in the region for four years (and believe me, I had my problems with it considering I’m from laid-back California, and if you try being laid-back anywhere in the Northeast region of the country you’re bound to get run over by a train or a car or a person or anything else that doesn’t have time for you) and attended my fair share of games in Philadelphia. Fans there are intense and can go a little over the top, yes. But they’re also some of the most knowledgeable fans you’ll find, and if you know your sports then you’ll get along with them just fine no matter who you root for.

(By the way, why do people still bring up this booing Santa Claus thing? How long ago did that happen, anyway? Again, you can cite any number of things to justify calling the Philadelphia fan boorish, but let’s just retire the Santa Claus thing already. Pretend for a moment that you went to your high school reunion, and despite the fact you got good grades, played four years of varsity football and were homecoming king your junior AND senior years, all anyone wanted to talk to you about was that time you pulled the fire alarm and set the sprinklers off in science class. How would you feel? Probably not much different than a Philadelphia sports fan would feel every time someone says, “But you guys booed Santa Claus!”)

OK, now that that’s done, let’s get to Citizens Bank Park. Mrs. Fan and I were in town in late May to visit old friends from our time there. One side effect from living there is that she’s now a die-hard Phillies fan (that championship in 2008 probably helped, too), and so we took in a Phillies game against the Reds as part of our visit.

The approach

If you’ve been to Philadelphia, you probably know that they have all their sports venues in one area (well, that’s not entirely true now that they’ve built a Major League Soccer stadium down in Chester, about 10 miles down Interstate 95). This area is called the Sports Complex, and it’s in South Philly, about five or so miles south of downtown… excuse me, Center City, which is what Philadelphia calls its downtown. Anyway, the Sports Complex used to consist of just Veterans Stadium and the Spectrum, but those humble stadiums are gone and in its place are the Eagles’ behemoth Lincoln Financial Field, the Flyers’ and 76ers’ Wells Fargo Center (formerly Wachovia Center, formerly First Union Center, formerly CoreStates Center — gotta love corporate takeovers) and good ol’ Citizens Bank Park, which in its short history has already seen moments like this.

The Sports Complex is just over the bridge from Philadelphia International Airport, which is nice because if you’re visiting, it’s really, really hard to get lost. In fact, if you’re flying in, do yourself a favor and choose a window seat on the right side of the plane. Most of the time (not all the time, mind you) the plane’s approach will allow you to catch a glimpse of all the stadiums. Then rent a car, hop on I-95 and you’re literally two exits away.

The subway takes you there too, and as long as you get on the right line, it’s also hard to get lost. The line ends at Pattison Street, right where the old Vet used to be — except now it’s called AT&T Station, which just goes to show you that anything can be sponsored. As for us, we had spent the day in Center City and got back on I-95 to get to the stadium, a trip that would’ve taken 10 minutes if we hadn’t missed our exit and wound up having to turn around at the airport. So the moral there is, don’t do what we did and you’ll be fine.

The build-up

If you can’t find parking at a game in Philly, you’re not trying. There are vast lots on all sides of Citizens Bank Park, and if you don’t feel like paying full price, you can actually find street parking about half a mile away if you get there early enough (on the other side of Broad Street there’s a big park, next to which folks often stash their cars). We parked our car in a lot near where the old Vet used to be for $15, and it was an easy walk into the ballpark from there.

And really, once you get out of your car, there’s nothing else to do but go into the ballpark. Independent of the stadiums, there is nothing to do within a good half-mile radius of the Sports Complex, with the possible exception of a rather seedy-looking Holiday Inn that, if memory serves me right, houses an off-track betting facility. Go a little further and you’ll find a few restaurants and pubs — and a few of the city’s famous cheesesteak joints are within a couple miles — but other than that it’s mostly neighborhoods.

This is supposedly going to change in a few years. They recently demolished the Spectrum with the idea of building a retail-entertainment complex in its place, and if they execute it properly, then it’ll be a welcome change. For as much as Philly residents love their teams, I’ve always thought it was a missed opportunity to not have some way to keep the fans there well after the games have ended. Right now, since there’s no incentive to stay, driving out of there after the game is a bit of a nightmare — which we experienced first-hand after this game.

The ambiance

Perhaps the greatest triumph in the design of Citizens Bank Park is that it compels you to want to be in the outfield. There aren’t many seats beyond the foul poles, but the concourse out there — lovingly named Ashburn Alley — is full of stuff to see and do (not the least of which is stand above the visitor’s bullpen and jeer the opposing relievers), and the best part about it is you can hang out there and still see the game from most areas. Plus the alley is visible from most other parts of the stadium, so it’s hard not to gaze out there during a break in the action, see all those people out there and not feel like heading down there yourself to see what’s going on.

If you’re a first-timer to the ballpark, and to Philly itself, you’ll probably want to try a cheesesteak, and there’s a local favorite there in Tony Luke’s. If I were you, though, I’d skip the cheesesteak and get a roast pork sandwich instead — I think it’s a tastier sandwich, and a lot of native Philadelphians would agree with me. You’ll also find Bull’s BBQ, the obligatory barbecue-joint-named-after-a-beloved-former-ballplayer that you find in a lot of newer ballparks, and a stand serving something called the Schmitter, which I won’t bother to explain. But to me the gem of the outfield concession stands is Chickie and Pete’s, which serves an item called crab fries — really just french fries dusted with Old Bay, but they give you a heaping pile of them for $7, with cheese dip for an extra $2. When I walked around the ballpark, both before the game and in the middle innings, I could not go more than 15 feet without seeing someone eating crab fries, so try to resist when it keeps getting shoved in your face like that. I finally broke down around the fifth inning, and found a queue that wound around about 10 times over. Luckily it moved pretty quickly.

Our seats were in the lower rows of the upper deck, first-base side, about in line with the third-base line. Pretty good seats considering the Phillies’ recent success has them on a sellout streak — but I snagged them by getting online the morning single-game tickets went on sale in early March. Waiting until days before the game you want to attend is not advisable with the Phillies, at least until they miss the playoffs for a season or two.

I should also mention that the game we went to was a Dollar Dog Night, which the Phillies hold from time to time (I thought for sure this would mean the Phanatic would come out at some point and shoot hot dogs out of a gun, but alas, he didn’t do that this time). Mrs. Fan bought a dollar dog early on, but I just couldn’t bring myself to eat a run-of-the-mill hot dog for a dollar when there were so many other things worth trying. I didn’t save any money, but I think I made the right choice. And after the Phils, bolstered by a seven-run third inning, finished clobbering the Reds, I could walk out of the park under my own power along with a very happy Mrs. Fan.

The damage

Tickets: $36 each before fees

Parking: $15

Food: $14.50 (1 one-dollar hot dog, one bottle of water, one order of crab fries without cheese dip)

Souvenirs: $22 for a Cliff Lee shirt for Mrs. Fan; $20 for a stuffed Phanatic as a graduation gift for buddy J-Park