Monster Jam

Lost in all the chaos of yesterday was the fact that there was an event scheduled at Chase Field. As I have said countless times before (you are welcome to peruse the blog archives to count if you want) I am an Arizona Diamondbacks baseball fan. That being said, I try to never miss an opportunity to go to Chase Field if for no other reason than to check out my seats and make sure the stadium has not been reconfigured and my seat is gone. Yeah I know, but just because it has never happened in 10 years doesn’t mean it couldn’t. That is a recurring nightmare I have. I get to Opening Day, walk through the gates and head down into my section only to find that my seat number is missing. The seats are sequentially numbered up until mine then it skips over my number and continues leaving me homeless. There have been many a night where I have awakened in a cold sweat freaking out. So anyway, that is why I always like to go down to Chase Field whenever possible. Last night though was just too weird even for me to attend and that is saying a lot.


Saturday marked the return of Monster Jam which is the monster truck rally. I made the mistake of going to that a couple of years ago. It was one of the most traumatic experiences I have ever had to endure. The stadium was filled with rabid fans many of whom were in desperate need of a good dental plan. The sound system was cranked to the maximum setting and the announcer seemed to be a former carnival midway worker because he kept trying to swallow the microphone making it nearly impossible to understand a word he was saying. I was sort of ok with that since I wasn’t really that interested in what the guy had to say anyway. I was still trying to get over the shock of what they had done to my beloved field. I had become accustomed to seeing the green carpet-like grass of the outfield and the unique dirt path from the pitcher’s mound to home plate. And while I had never liked to sit in back of the screen behind the plate I did appreciate the netting whenever a foul ball was rifled off a bat. All of these things were gone for Monster Jam. They were replaced with mounds of dirt strewn throughout the field. The pool was a shambles with dust and dirt everywhere. Everything in the stadium had an inch of dirt on it. It was like coming home to find someone had broken into your house and ransacked your living room. I felt so violated. I know there are probably huge fans of Monster Jam (I can attest to that fact since I saw more than a couple of wide bodies who were complaining about how narrow the seats were at Chase Field) but watching huge pick-ups and SUVs tearing up the field while the crowd cheered made me want to cry. I wanted to call the Dial-a-VooDoo-Curse line and ask the person to curse everyone in attendance that their trailer parks would all be hit by a tornado just so they could feel the same way I did as the Grave Digger spun cookies at what used to be second base.


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