Sunday, August 30, 2009

Actually I Do Care If I Ever Get Back


Take me out to the ball game,
Take me out with the crowd.
Buy me some peanuts and cracker jack,
I don't care if I never get back!


Last evening David took me to the Oriole's game against the Indians as my Father's Day gift. It was a great idea and I was looking forward to it since we don't go to many games (partly the cost of a game nowadays, partly the fact that they're 20+ games out). We decided that it made sense to use the Lutherville Park & Ride for the light rail to get us down and back.


As we approached the ticket kiosk David asked if I had anything smaller than a $20 - not from a desire to escape paying for the fare but more out of the desire not to be toting around 14 Sagawagea coins as change dispensed from the machine. He needn't have worried - I fed the machine a $5 bill and we got back $1.80 in nickles and dimes. I guess this is a prelude to slots coming to Maryland - get you accustomed to hear the clink! clink! clunk! sounds of coins hitting the tray.


When he originally said he'd come by to get me at 5:15 for a 7 p.m. game I thought "this is his mother's doing - allowing 3x as much time as needed to get someplace." Ahh, but I was wrong. We boarded the first southbound train only to be unceremoniously ejected at North Avenue (that was the end of the line for that train), where we waited another 30 minutes for another train to take us the remaining way to Camden Yards. But no harm, no foul - we were in our seats at 6:58 p.m.

The game was fun, even though the O's lost to the Indians and we had to suffer through ~90 minute rain delay. Like getting a bushell of steamed crabs there is something quintessential about taking in a ball game with friends or loved ones - the way that it's as much about the social aspects than the supposed objective of eating crabs or riveting on a game. We opted to leave at the top of the 9th and headed back to the light rail platform.


Once there we waited...and waited. Watched two trains pull up heading southbound, while we continued to peer down the track for the headlights of a northbound train. One inebriated gentleman proclaimed with certainty that there were no more northbound trains for the evening. But I figured that was improbable given that it was now after midnight, the game had ended, and we now had amassed about 70 people at the stop. Finally a train arrives - ominously displaying "North Avenue" as its destination. Assuming safety in numbers we figured we'd board it anyway, anticipating another wait for yet another train.


Sure enough, at North Avenue the driver tells everyone to get off. At this point Dave is having a severe case of deja vu since last Christmas he was stranded at this same stop at 2 a.m. in a business suit following their office party - despite assurances that the trains would be running. I run to the front of the train to ask the driver what the prospects of getting to the Lutherville Park & Ride are. You'd think he'd know the train schedule, or be able to call in to get, or in some way help resolve the fact that we have close to 100 people abandoned here. But you'd be wrong. You came here with your 5 year old grandson to catch a game? That's your problem grandpa - I'm off duty.



At this point a couple of officers appear on the scene - not sure whether it was in response to a distraught parent calling for assistance or just serendipidy. I guess they knew whom to call to deal with this as they soon announced that yes indeed, they had been able to summon a train to take us nothward - it just might take a while. Well dear reader, to cut to the chase on this odyssey, I finally arrived back home at 1:30 a.m., some two hours after leaving our stadium seats to begin the trek back home.


And just imagine - national health care being handled by the same sort of folks who provided this experience.