Things You Don’t Want to See at the Ballpark

If you go to enough games during a season, you will see pretty much everything imaginable and some things you would just rather never imagine. Whenever you get 25,000 to 30,000 people in one place you are bound to have situations arise that you never thought possible. These could range from being an inadvertent participant in a domestic argument between fans who sit near you to the uncomfortable situation where someone has what Janet Jackson referred to as a “costume malfunction”. Most of these situations are humorous in nature though that may not be the case when they are actually happening but afterwards make you laugh to yourself or just shake your head. Notice I said most and not all. There are some things that occur that you just don’t ever what to think about and really wish you had never seen in the first place. Wednesday’s game had just that kind of situation.


Dakota and I went to the ball game. He was trying desperately trying to get a baseball from the San Francisco Giants. While Dakota describes himself as a Diamondbacks fan, he is somewhat torn. His first year of little league this year he played for the Giants meaning that he had to wear the jersey and hats that the San Francisco Giants wore. I am not sure who this was more difficult for, him or me. It required me to root for the Giants (something no Diamondbacks fan would ever admit to) and it required Dakota to put on the jersey of a rival (another thing no Diamondbacks fan ever cares to do). But tonight in the name of getting a ball, he wore his Giants hat (under his Diamondbacks hat by the way). He was embarrassed to even be wearing this stuff at Chase Field but he really wanted a ball.

Sitting two rows in front of us was a fairly large fan. By fairly large I mean he tipped the scale literally. I don’t work on the midway of a carnival so I have had no formal training in this but I would venture to guess that this fan weighed well over 325 pounds. He was probably one buffet meal away from having to be buried in a piano box. Not only was this guy large, he was also loud. I am usually one who advocates free speech at the ballpark (see yesterday’s blog entry) so I’ll typically go with the flow. This guy though was pretty weak. His target was Moises Alou and for the entire game he just kept yelling, “MOISES!” I am not exactly sure why. I don’t think it really bothered Moises to have someone yell his name but this guy seemed to think it would irritate him. Alou seemed to be ok with it though as he didn’t pay any attention to Jumbo.

Now if this was all that had happened, it would not warrant an entry but it gets worse. First, my new friend Barry didn’t play so I had no one to talk to. I was kind of bummed out since I thought at least Bonds would come over and say hello but he didn’t. The Diamondbacks were playing well tonight and set a new team record for double plays recording five in a single game. Still, they just could not seem to put the Giants away. When the ninth inning arrived, the Diamondbacks had just a 2 run lead with Cardiac Jorge Julio on the mound. I was definitely not feeling very comfortable with the situation. When the Giants lead off man reached first base I knew what was coming and sure enough the fans began to boo. That could mean just one thing; Barry Bonds was coming to the plate as a pinch hitter. Deep in the pit of my stomach I knew something bad was going to happen, my mistake was that I thought that badness was going to happen on the field. Jumbo who up until this time had focused all of his energy on Alou shifted gears to throw his weight behind Bonds. He stood up and turned to face those of us sitting behind him. This left his fairly large rear facing home plate and Barry Bonds. Jumbo then took his hand and formed it to look like he was holding a syringe and he would slap his behind with the syringe shaped hand. He did this repeatedly. By repeatedly I don’t mean like it says on the shampoo bottle when you wash rinse and repeat. I mean he slapped himself like a jockey riding a Kentucky Derby winner down the home stretch. I believe my mouth dropped and hit my scorebook. After the initial shock of what he was seeing, Dakota immediately covered his face with both the Diamondbacks and Giants hats he had. I am not sure but I thought I heard babies beginning to cry a few rows back. The three women sitting next to us began to scream. The two people in front of us were scrambling to get out of the way since Jumbo’s head was now just inches from theirs. I used to think there were no bad seats at Chase Field but that assumption changed as there was a guy sitting in front of Jumbo who happened to turn around to find himself face-to-butt with a very wide load being shot with imaginary steroids. I am sure we were all at that moment hoping that steroids killed and soon Jumbo would be out of his misery but that didn’t happen. When Barry Bonds struck out, the madness finally stopped. I have never been more grateful for a strikeout in my life. And given the look on the guy’s face who was sitting in front of Jumbo, I believe I now have first hand knowledge that crack is worse than steroids and that they both can kill.


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