I never thought I’d be watching a major league baseball game in Sacramento, but last Wednesday I traveled to Sutter Health Park to watch the Athletics (minus the preface Sacramento) play a day game in their first home series of the year.
I had been to this ballpark before, years ago, when it was called Raley Field, to watch the Sacramento River Cats play, but the River Cats are a triple-A minor league club, not a major league team. The park, a pleasant place to watch a baseball game, looked the same to me.
I have to admit I had two ulterior motives going to this game. First, the A’s were playing the Chicago Cubs, the team I’ve alternately cheered and cried about for the past seven decades. Second, I would be watching the game with my son Mike, my daughter Megan, my granddaughter Hanna and her good friend and partner, Ben.
I also have to admit I enjoyed the experience. A major league game is a major league game wherever it’s played. The experience last week was similar to watching the Cubs play a spring training game in Arizona, in a ballpark about the same size as the one in Sacramento.
I had one major disappointment, well before the game started. I asked ballpark employees where I could buy a program and scorecard, and I was told, sadly, they would not be available. The courteous young lady told me I would have to go to some digital site to find something like that. She could see the dejection in my face.
Back in the day I could buy a scorecard and a pencil at Wrigley Field for ten cents! At Sutter Health Park I was prepared to pay five dollars for a program that would include a scorecard, even without a pencil. But, alas, it was not to be.
I also had a minor disappointment in that I did not have a printed ticket in hand, which, like a scorecard, I could save as a souvenir. Instead, I had to show my digital ticket on my phone to get into the park.
I was cheered, however, when I showed my digital ticket to a park employee who pointed to my seat, just seven rows directly behind the Cub dugout. I was so excited I celebrated by immediately buying a beer.
I took out my wallet and was about to hand the guy behind the beer counter a $20 bill to pay for my $17 glass of beer, when he refused my offer. “We don’t take cash here,” he told me, “or in any other place in the park. Could you give me your credit card?”
What is this world coming to, I thought to myself. What is a day at the ballpark coming to?
Nevertheless, with beer in hand I made it to my seat. The other family members hadn’t arrived yet. (I had made it a point to get to the park early, as I always do, hopefully to see some batting practice. But today, no one was practicing batting.)
However, I could already see fans nearby wearing Cub jerseys and caps. I have learned from going to many games in San Francisco and Oakland that Cub fans are congenial.
Over the years I could approach anyone in Cubs gear and strike up a conversation immediately. Sometimes, other Cub fans, seeing me in my Cubs jersey and cap with many collectible souvenir pins attached, have approached me and started a conversation.
These conversations invariably begin by one of us asking, “Are you from Chicago? If so, where exactly did you live?” And since I’ve either lived in, worked in, or visited just about every Chicago neighborhood and suburb in my first 24 years of life, I can relate to them.
Before, during and after the game I talked with, among other friendly Cub fans, Dan, Chris, Chloe, a relative of ex-Cub Kyle Scharber and an assortment of other folks whose names I’ve forgotten. Two rows behind me were three men—a grandfather in his 90s, his son, and his grandson—three generations of loyal Cub fans who were also enjoying the game, all loyal Cub fans.
Then I realized, after everyone in my party had arrived, that I was also with a group of three generations of Cub fans: oldest, me; middle, Mike and Megan; youngest, Hanna. That’s pretty amazing, I said to myself.
The game was not a sellout, in spite of the small park, since I could see empty seats during the game. The official announced attendance was 9,342. It’s hard to say how many tickets weren’t sold, because the “capacity” of the ballpark seems ambiguous, depending, among other things, on how many people can sit on grass.
There are 10,624 permanent seats. Otherwise, spectators go to a grassy berm beyond the outfield fence and sit on the grass with blankets or chairs they brought from home.
At various times I’ve seen the capacity of Sutter Health Park listed anywhere between a figure in the 12,000s or 13,000s and most commonly 14,014 (including standing room).
By the way, the people on the lawn, including families with kids, seemed to be enjoying the experience.
So what made my experience so enjoyable? Let me count the ways (nine, like the innings in a game):
Number 1. The ballpark employees were friendly and courteous and often funny, like the guy hawking lemonade nearby claiming it was beer.
Number 2. When I entered the ballpark, I was given a free T-shirt with Ricky Henderson’s photo. (I’ve rooted for Ricky a lot over the years.)
Number 3. Being with my family. That’s the best way to watch a game.
Number 4. Creating my own scorecard. Both Ben and I scored the game on two small index cards I had brought with me.
Number 5. The great seats, for which I have to thank my daughter-in-law Karen for procuring. Couldn’t have asked for better.
Number 6. A great day. Sunny and in the mid-60s.
Number 7. The conviviality of Cub fans, who cheered, chanted and sang with gusto, including the chant of “Let’s go, Cubbies”; the song “Take Me out to the Ball Game,” including “root, root, root for the Cubbies”; and the song at the end of the game “Go, Cubs, Go,” including “Hey, Chicago, whadaya say, the Cubs are going to win today.”
Number 8. The Cubs did win, 10-2, scoring runs in many innings, including two home runs from Seiya Suzuki. There were many opportunities to stand up and cheer. (It’s always more fun when you win.)
Number 9. Optimism and good omens. The Cubs looked solid in the game I watched and in the two previous games in Sacramento. They scored a combined 35 runs in the series. Maybe that’s a good sign, a good omen for the season ahead. Another good omen: the last time I saw the Cubs play the A’s (in Oakland) was in 2016. They won that game and later they won the World Series.
I’m not sure whether that’s optimism or delusion.
John Spevak’s email is john.spevak@gmail.com.
