Take Me Out to the Ball Game

Welcome, recreational reader, as this week I have a genuine American adventure to regale you with: yes, this week, while everyone else was enjoying their barbecue on the Memorial Day holiday (the traditional start of the American summer), we got on the train and went to San Francisco to watch our first-ever baseball game.

The match-up in question was the San Francisco Giants versus the Los Angeles Angels, and I was excited to learn that the latter team was started by none other than the great Gene Autry! Sadly there was nary a singing cowboy in sight, but clearly a few away fans had made the trip up from Southern California.

The stadium itself is a large-ish affair, seating about 41,000 in a picturesque location right by the Bay. This of course provides opportunities for home runs to be hit straight into the water, with a digital "splash hit counter" showing the number of such hits since the Giants moved to the stadium in 2000. As we're now 14 days on from our second COVID jab, we were eligible to sit in the "fully vaccinated" seating section (showing our vaccination cards to gain admission), where for the first time in over a year I had the odd sensation of sitting next to a human that isn't Helen. I guess I'll get used to it...

Going to the baseball appears to be very much a family affair: compared with most sporting events in the UK, there were a lot more family groups in evidence, and to be honest, a lot more women. It's also something of a social event: it's by no means mandatory to pay close attention to the action, and there's a lot of hot dogs being eaten and beer being consumed. It's certainly all pretty friendly, with no need to segregate the rival fans, who seem genuinely interested in having a chat with some people they've just met that are following the other team. Finally, the way the tension builds is reasonably conducive to not paying that much attention: critical pressure points of the game, like the bases being loaded or the batter having one more strike to do something come along with a reasonable amount of notice, and even though a home run being hit is pretty spontaneous, even that often builds over a few seconds to a peak of seeing if the fielder will catch the ball or not. That said, what we saw here was a relatively empty stadium - I'd say it was about a third full.

Some Baseballists

There's also the extra-curricular activity: there's music and traditions around when particular songs or tunes are played, there's a few silly mascots doing the rounds, and of course, baseball is a game obsessed by history and statistics: a scoreboard that's bigger than many cricket grounds in the UK shows those all-important stats in real-time, and the ground is flanked by flags celebrating each of the Giants' World Series wins, as well as the retired squad numbers of the most famous players. And yes, they did play "Take Me Out to the Ball Game", and everyone sang along. Memorial Day is the equivalent of Remembrance Sunday here, so there was also plenty of scope for bringing in tributes to serving or former service members.

In terms of statistics, baseball is indebted to Henry Chadwick, who started a set of standardized metrics for the game, many of which are still in use. Helen of course insisted on attempting to fill out a score sheet - the sheet tries to encode details like how everyone was out, where they hit the ball, and even if they hit it in the air. But it's complex; without the benefit of years of practice, Helen struck on some sort of hybrid notation which evolved as the game went on and seemed to use quite a lot of cricket terms. Next time, perhaps it will be more.... authentic.

There also appears to be a side-game going on at the baseball, where each team tries really hard to get rid of as many baseballs as possible. They're either hitting them into the crowd (typically foul shots that go behind the batter), or the fielders are intentionally chucking them to kids in the crowd. I'm guessing they get through 7 or 8 in an innings.... and there are 9 innings.

Anyway, the Giants bashed 3 dingers and pitcher Johnny Cueto managed to restrict the Angels to a single run, so the Giants ran out winners, and as a result, we left the stadium to the bangin' tune of "I Left My Heart in San Francisco" (not Papworth General). A ball did end up in the Bay at one point, but it was a foul (i.e. behind the line that runs out from the batting plate to the corner of right field), so didn't count for anything.

In comparison with sport in the UK - well, it's perhaps closest to cricket in terms of the atmosphere, although I have to say, there's probably more going on at the cricket in terms of jeopardy around each individual ball. I've never been to a football match in the UK, but even I can say that it's nothing like a football match in the UK (for better or for worse), but I'd probably rather go and see the baseball to be honest. Overall, the baseball is a lot of fun as a spectacle and definitely worth an afternoon or evening for summer visitors.

And yes, we did have a hot dog. And garlic fries.