Take Me Out to the Ball Game
A rivaled opening day ballpark spread
Give us a sweaty rock club, overpriced beer and ear-buzzing speakers any night — even better, a general admission ticket where we literally can’t see (well, maybe Angie can) but can feel the energy in the crowd. The live concert experience is like none other. Then again, there’s baseball.
At first thought, the only thing they have in common is the pricey bevvies. To some, baseball might seem slow; the atmosphere, relaxed, even sleepy; and a finale, on most days, anticlimactic. Oh, so not so.
For us die-hards, every crack of the bat suspends time. Your entire being pauses in anticipation of what comes next. Is it shooting out of the short stop’s reach? Is it a gapper sneaking in between charging outfielders? Could it be, it might be, is it … gone?
It’s like waiting for the headliner. The stir of the crowd stops when the house music fades. The lights dim. And a familiar chord hits you in the heart while the first musician hits the limelight. It’s that same anticipation, the same hold-your-breath lust.
It lights you up. It lights us up. Angie and I place baseball near the top of what’s important in life. Our ticket stubs, whether concert or ballpark, take the same seat of honor on the mantle.
A Different Opener
This year baseball looks a little different. The pandemic has closed ballparks and cut the season in half. There are no scorecard kiosks, long concession lines, goofy between-inning antics … and, worst of all, we’re not there.
Would we prefer to be throwing up devil’s horns in a crowd of rowdy metalheads? Of course, we would.
Sure, it’s depressing if you let it be. But it’s baseball — and it is happening.
I compare it to online, steaming concerts. Would we prefer to be throwing up devil’s horns in a crowd of rowdy metalheads? Of course, we would. Do we settle for a four-square Zoom with okay-timed instruments and delivered-to-your-door merch? Yes, we do … with enthusiasm.
Tailgating in Place
For us, the season opened on Friday, July 24, at Wrigley Field with the Chicago Cubs (that’s my team) taking on the rival Milwaukee Brewers (that’s Angie’s team). To maintain some sense of normalcy and amp it up at the same time, we decided an I-94 Series feast was in order — ballpark style.
We forewent the hot dogs, soft pretzels and nacho cheese, anything on a stick, roasted nuts and cotton candy for our own upscaled substitutes. (Check out our menu below.)
Social distanced in my backyard — starting with the Uecker radio broadcast and ending with a dusk-enabled stream from the projector — we noted the names of new roster call-ups, debated the efficacy of a pitcher’s spit versus a damp cloth (alas, COVID-19), prematurely gasped at would-be long fly balls and sang “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” with Harry Carey.
For a moment, almost like a suspension of time, we forgot we were not in those empty stands.
Get the Menu
Homemade soft pretzels with asiago artichoke dip
Turkey and bacon poppers on a toothpick
Smoked hot-and-spicy mixed nuts (added a dash of cajun powder)
Logoed chocolate-covered strawberries
Image courtesy of the New York Public Library digital collection.
Female Origin of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game”
Music is a huge part of sports. It adds drama, whether as the players burst onto the court or in the form of iconic theme songs of televised sports broadcasts. For baseball, it’s what makes us get up and stretch during the seventh inning.
“Take Me Out to the Ball Game” was written by Jack Norworth and composed by Albert von Tilzer in 1908 (the last time the Cubs won the World Series before their 108-year drought).
Little did I know, the song has verses before and after the often-sung chorus — and they’re about a woman. Yes, it’s a progressive woman named Katie Casey who wants to go to the ball game and never come back. It’s music to the ears of me and Angie, two female baseball fans who can speak baseball with any dude at the game.
The woman who people speculate is behind “Katie Casey” is vaudeville actress Trixie Friganza, who was romantically involved with the married lyricist. More important, she was also a suffragist, speaking out and marching for the woman’s right to vote.
Read more in this article written by Anna Laymon in Smithsonian Magazine.
