My buddy Ian is the biggest Dodger fan I know. I live right across the street from the
stadium, and we often go to games together. A couple months ago we went to a game, and for
the first time (for me at least), got kicked out.
Most of the time when I go see the Dodgers it's to sit in the nosebleed section. The tickets
are cheap and the view is decent if you can get seats somewhere between 3rd and 1st base (and
you usually can). The only problem with that section is that sometimes it gets rowdy. Now
don't get me wrong, I ain't scurred. I'd just rather not leave the game having actually
joined a gang. I'll do my jumping in on the streets, thank you very much. I should clarify
that if you're wearing Dodger blue you're pretty much in the clear. If you have a Dodgers
tattoo you're even better off. I saw a fan once with the Dodgers script logo tattooed across
his chest diagonally, and the same thing in reverse across his back. These are fans.
A few times, though, I've made the mistake of going to games with my friends, who are pretty
much all Arizona fans. And I made the added mistake of bringing them to a Dodgers/Dbacks
game. My buddies got a little, how shall we say, shit-hammered and started supporting their
team vociferously. We got pelted with limes and garlic fries, but made it out with our hides.
On another occasion, one of my friends was wearing a red U of A shirt that said "Don't tell me to
sit down" on the back. The Dodgers were playing the Angels, so he wasn't wearing the
opposition's gear (he wasn't, in fact, wearing any pro team's gear). None of that mattered to
the four GIANT cholos behind us. They saw red, and that was all they needed to see. It got
so bad I put my Dodger hat on my buddy's head. That didn't help. Things were starting to get
out of control, and I felt we had a legitimate reason to fear for his safety, and by reason of
association, ours. A few seconds later this was confirmed by two security guards who showed
up and told my friend "Sir, we have to move you now. For your own safety." Much easier to do
that then face multiple thugs I guess. They moved him down about 6 rows. Wow, thanks. That
just made the objects hurled at him hit a bit harder. A full beer got dumped on him, and he
took off his red shirt (and not because it was wet). He put on a sweatshirt and tried to make
himself small. Luckily, right at that moment, a girl in an Angels hat stood up, turned around, and gave the double middle finger to everyone behind her. She was joined by a middle aged guy in Angels gear, and the crowd turned its rage on them. After several minutes more, the actual cops showed up and arrested all four thugs.
So on to my own experience of being ejected. Ian and I walked over to the park. We had field
level seats, but way out by the foul pole on the first base side. One thing I've learned is that you can get those seats fairly cheap, and then move to field level seats closer to home plate. You've got your access to the field level, and that's all you need. So many people don't show up or leave early, that you can always watch at least half the game from a pretty excellent vantage point. So about the 6th inning, we moved. Things were going fine until we spotted some open seats further in and in the FRONT ROW. Now THAT'S field level. We mosied on over. About five seats away from our target I noticed that a security guard on the field was watching us. She let us take the seats though. I knew that if we behaved ourselves, we'd be fine. Unfortunately I didn't know that behaving yourself in this part of the ballpark now means not swearing.
Something happened at second base, and Jeff Kent, the Dodgers' second baseman, didn't like it.
He started arguing with the umpire and the Joe Torre came running out. I didn't see the play
because we were too busy taking our fake seats. Anyway, it got heated and resulted in both
Kent and Torre being ejected. So whatever it was, there was probably a legitimate beef there,
right? Ian yelled "aw, that's BULLSHIT!" to the field, and the security guard had what she'd
been waiting for. She immediately came up to the wall and asked to see our tickets. "Alright, alright, we'll go back to our seats. I'm sorry," Ian said. We went about 8 rows up to some other seats we could pretend were ours, not near anyone by about 4 rows, and sat down. Play resumed. Ian soon found another thing to bitch about, or maybe it was the same thing, I don't remember. But he was just being a fan. Anyway, a morbidly obese member of AARP in front of us turned around and told us (Ian) not to swear, because there were "womenfolk" around. "Did you just say womenfolk?" I asked. He neither responded to or looked at me, but proceeded to get up and come up to the row in front of us and walk in until he was right in front of Ian. He started arguing with Ian about being polite, which quickly turned into threats to take Ian out into the parking lot and fight him!
It should be noted here that Ian was handling the situation very well. He didn't stand up, he didn't raise his voice once, and he didn't even swear. Meanwhile, this fat old tub o'lard was calling him every name in the book and spitting when he talked. He wouldn't look at me once, despite my repeated declarations of "Sir, you are spitting on us. Sir. You are spitting on us, sir." I was determined to be the polite one. Finally Ian had had enough, and told the old man that if he really wanted, he'd meet him in the parking lot and slug him. He actually used the word "slug." I was amused by that.
Finally the guy goes and sits down. Way to represent civility and chivalry, asshole. Next,
an entire row of women who, I kid you not, actually had sweaters tied around their necks 80s
yuppie style, proceeded to argue with Ian. He had suggested that all he was doing was being a
fan, and that if they were fans they should have been outraged at the play like he was. The
first one said "Um, excuse me, we have season tickets here. Do you know how much those cost?
We ARE fans." "Oh yeah?" Ian replied. "What division are the Dodgers in?" She had nothing.
"What LEAGUE are they in?" he asked. She snorted and turned around. Could it have been a
"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer" snort? Maybe. But I tend to think she just didn't know.
The next thing we knew, four police officers and 2 security guards were standing over us. I
naively thought they were there to find the big fat old guy who was spitting all over,
threatening violence on people and moving several rows to do it. But no. It was for us. We
were instructed to get up and come with them. For what? I asked. For swearing, came the
reply. Are you serious? Yes, apparently they were. We got up and slowly followed them out,
to a chorus of boos from the crowd. I enjoyed that quite a bit.
When I asked if we were really being kicked out for swearing, I was told that yes, we were,
because it is against the fan conduct policy. When I asked why the old man who swore, spit,
and committed assault on us according to the legal definition wasn't being kicked out, they
said they would "look into it."
The fact is that baseball is now primarily a rich man's game. People are paying hundreds of
dollars for field level seats, and the owner of the team is catering to them. Bars, club boxes with waitstaff, private bathrooms, and all sorts of amenities are being added, and Frank McCourt has plans to do another $500 Million worth of "renovating" to the place. It mostly consists of a mall and restaurants (you still won't be able to take public transportation to the stadium). And these wealthy people don't want a real, gritty, baseball experience. They want to watch it like it's on tv in their beige livingrooms. If they could bring their overpriced couches with them they probably would. It's more about being seen, and the presige that comes with being able to afford expensive season tickets than it is about the team or the game. Never mind what division the Dodgers are in. They are called the Dodgers, right?
Long gone are the days when the iron worker or carpet salesman sat next to the wall street
broker in a cramped Brooklyn shithole on a hot summer day. Now the working class sits in the
bleachers or the upper deck. I despise the violence I see sometimes in the cheap seats, but
the elitism down on the field is just as bad. Contrary to popular belief, baseball is NOT a family affair. It isn't cricket or golf, people. Those guys out there? They take steroids. They chew tobacco. They spit and scratch their balls on tv, and they kick and punch the shit out of each other when they get mad, which because of the steroids, is all the time. They say the F word. They cheat on their wives. They drink, smoke, and eat like pigs. And they don't get kicked out just for swearing.
stadium, and we often go to games together. A couple months ago we went to a game, and for
the first time (for me at least), got kicked out.
Most of the time when I go see the Dodgers it's to sit in the nosebleed section. The tickets
are cheap and the view is decent if you can get seats somewhere between 3rd and 1st base (and
you usually can). The only problem with that section is that sometimes it gets rowdy. Now
don't get me wrong, I ain't scurred. I'd just rather not leave the game having actually
joined a gang. I'll do my jumping in on the streets, thank you very much. I should clarify
that if you're wearing Dodger blue you're pretty much in the clear. If you have a Dodgers
tattoo you're even better off. I saw a fan once with the Dodgers script logo tattooed across
his chest diagonally, and the same thing in reverse across his back. These are fans.
A few times, though, I've made the mistake of going to games with my friends, who are pretty
much all Arizona fans. And I made the added mistake of bringing them to a Dodgers/Dbacks
game. My buddies got a little, how shall we say, shit-hammered and started supporting their
team vociferously. We got pelted with limes and garlic fries, but made it out with our hides.
On another occasion, one of my friends was wearing a red U of A shirt that said "Don't tell me to
sit down" on the back. The Dodgers were playing the Angels, so he wasn't wearing the
opposition's gear (he wasn't, in fact, wearing any pro team's gear). None of that mattered to
the four GIANT cholos behind us. They saw red, and that was all they needed to see. It got
so bad I put my Dodger hat on my buddy's head. That didn't help. Things were starting to get
out of control, and I felt we had a legitimate reason to fear for his safety, and by reason of
association, ours. A few seconds later this was confirmed by two security guards who showed
up and told my friend "Sir, we have to move you now. For your own safety." Much easier to do
that then face multiple thugs I guess. They moved him down about 6 rows. Wow, thanks. That
just made the objects hurled at him hit a bit harder. A full beer got dumped on him, and he
took off his red shirt (and not because it was wet). He put on a sweatshirt and tried to make
himself small. Luckily, right at that moment, a girl in an Angels hat stood up, turned around, and gave the double middle finger to everyone behind her. She was joined by a middle aged guy in Angels gear, and the crowd turned its rage on them. After several minutes more, the actual cops showed up and arrested all four thugs.
So on to my own experience of being ejected. Ian and I walked over to the park. We had field
level seats, but way out by the foul pole on the first base side. One thing I've learned is that you can get those seats fairly cheap, and then move to field level seats closer to home plate. You've got your access to the field level, and that's all you need. So many people don't show up or leave early, that you can always watch at least half the game from a pretty excellent vantage point. So about the 6th inning, we moved. Things were going fine until we spotted some open seats further in and in the FRONT ROW. Now THAT'S field level. We mosied on over. About five seats away from our target I noticed that a security guard on the field was watching us. She let us take the seats though. I knew that if we behaved ourselves, we'd be fine. Unfortunately I didn't know that behaving yourself in this part of the ballpark now means not swearing.
Something happened at second base, and Jeff Kent, the Dodgers' second baseman, didn't like it.
He started arguing with the umpire and the Joe Torre came running out. I didn't see the play
because we were too busy taking our fake seats. Anyway, it got heated and resulted in both
Kent and Torre being ejected. So whatever it was, there was probably a legitimate beef there,
right? Ian yelled "aw, that's BULLSHIT!" to the field, and the security guard had what she'd
been waiting for. She immediately came up to the wall and asked to see our tickets. "Alright, alright, we'll go back to our seats. I'm sorry," Ian said. We went about 8 rows up to some other seats we could pretend were ours, not near anyone by about 4 rows, and sat down. Play resumed. Ian soon found another thing to bitch about, or maybe it was the same thing, I don't remember. But he was just being a fan. Anyway, a morbidly obese member of AARP in front of us turned around and told us (Ian) not to swear, because there were "womenfolk" around. "Did you just say womenfolk?" I asked. He neither responded to or looked at me, but proceeded to get up and come up to the row in front of us and walk in until he was right in front of Ian. He started arguing with Ian about being polite, which quickly turned into threats to take Ian out into the parking lot and fight him!
It should be noted here that Ian was handling the situation very well. He didn't stand up, he didn't raise his voice once, and he didn't even swear. Meanwhile, this fat old tub o'lard was calling him every name in the book and spitting when he talked. He wouldn't look at me once, despite my repeated declarations of "Sir, you are spitting on us. Sir. You are spitting on us, sir." I was determined to be the polite one. Finally Ian had had enough, and told the old man that if he really wanted, he'd meet him in the parking lot and slug him. He actually used the word "slug." I was amused by that.
Finally the guy goes and sits down. Way to represent civility and chivalry, asshole. Next,
an entire row of women who, I kid you not, actually had sweaters tied around their necks 80s
yuppie style, proceeded to argue with Ian. He had suggested that all he was doing was being a
fan, and that if they were fans they should have been outraged at the play like he was. The
first one said "Um, excuse me, we have season tickets here. Do you know how much those cost?
We ARE fans." "Oh yeah?" Ian replied. "What division are the Dodgers in?" She had nothing.
"What LEAGUE are they in?" he asked. She snorted and turned around. Could it have been a
"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer" snort? Maybe. But I tend to think she just didn't know.
The next thing we knew, four police officers and 2 security guards were standing over us. I
naively thought they were there to find the big fat old guy who was spitting all over,
threatening violence on people and moving several rows to do it. But no. It was for us. We
were instructed to get up and come with them. For what? I asked. For swearing, came the
reply. Are you serious? Yes, apparently they were. We got up and slowly followed them out,
to a chorus of boos from the crowd. I enjoyed that quite a bit.
When I asked if we were really being kicked out for swearing, I was told that yes, we were,
because it is against the fan conduct policy. When I asked why the old man who swore, spit,
and committed assault on us according to the legal definition wasn't being kicked out, they
said they would "look into it."
The fact is that baseball is now primarily a rich man's game. People are paying hundreds of
dollars for field level seats, and the owner of the team is catering to them. Bars, club boxes with waitstaff, private bathrooms, and all sorts of amenities are being added, and Frank McCourt has plans to do another $500 Million worth of "renovating" to the place. It mostly consists of a mall and restaurants (you still won't be able to take public transportation to the stadium). And these wealthy people don't want a real, gritty, baseball experience. They want to watch it like it's on tv in their beige livingrooms. If they could bring their overpriced couches with them they probably would. It's more about being seen, and the presige that comes with being able to afford expensive season tickets than it is about the team or the game. Never mind what division the Dodgers are in. They are called the Dodgers, right?
Long gone are the days when the iron worker or carpet salesman sat next to the wall street
broker in a cramped Brooklyn shithole on a hot summer day. Now the working class sits in the
bleachers or the upper deck. I despise the violence I see sometimes in the cheap seats, but
the elitism down on the field is just as bad. Contrary to popular belief, baseball is NOT a family affair. It isn't cricket or golf, people. Those guys out there? They take steroids. They chew tobacco. They spit and scratch their balls on tv, and they kick and punch the shit out of each other when they get mad, which because of the steroids, is all the time. They say the F word. They cheat on their wives. They drink, smoke, and eat like pigs. And they don't get kicked out just for swearing.
