Bravo, Braves Beneficence

So, Denis With One N and I head to the Arizona Diamondbacks at Atlanta Braves game. In advance of this, I have sent handwritten notes to all the official Braves broadcasters (to my knowledge) telling them I'd be at the game and asking if I could give them an autographed copy of Baseball's Starry Night and maybe even chat about the book on the air, with the full and sympathetic understanding that the book recalls a painful night for Braves fans. Tuesday morning I had received a Twitter DM from radio guy Kevin McAlpin (who had not received a note, unfortunately), but we never did end up meeting. Denis With One N and I conferred with Ticketmasterman Big Mike, holding court like a regal Buddha outside the Ted, but even Big Mike said check the box office if you insist on being out of the (for me, dreaded) sun. After buying three $40 seats (for Denis and his brother Jimmy and me), section 204L, behind the plate, third-base-ish, under the overhang out of the sun, I saw a guy with a Giants hat and -- bingo! -- animated conversation...with Tike and Dawn and Patrick, season ticket holders at AT&T, I believe, attending their 35th and 32 and 31st ballparks, something like that. Giants fans! Giants fans in Atlanta on baseball pilgrimage! I look for The Faithful all over, especially at ballparks, and it is always cool to chat it up with them. (This is ballpark number 20 for me, best I can tell.) Incidentally, the ticket window gal saw my Giants shirt and said she saw someone with a Giants hat, but I think it was someone different.

The game was a fairly sloppy and dull affair, starting off with Hudson v. Hudson, Daniel and Tim, that is, and ending with D.H. leaving early (turns out we learn today he tore an elbow ligament) and ending with a T.H. and Braves' win, 8-1. Chipper Jones three hits! Homer for Michael Bourn (and Jason Kubel. Mini fireworks, from the Gas South sign in right, for a Braves pitcher's strikeout; bigger fireworks, coming from the Coke bottle on the Skydeck in left, for a Braves HR. No such theatrics from the visitors' feats. During Bourn's homer, I was buying 10 bucks worth of 50-50 charity tix from a cute Braves volunteer or worker.

The high points were meeting and chatting with Craig P. and his son Sam, star players from Baseball's Starry Night. Craig asked me to autograph a book for Katiebravesfan, also in my book, which I did, and also, a book for Sam, which I did. It was just a very endearing moment, and they later joined us in our seats. In fact, warm moment is an understatement. It left me with the heartfelt conviction that it was totally right to drive from Syracuse to Cooperstown to Charlotte to Atlanta for this very moment, meeting these lovely people, these ardent Braves fans, this father-son duo of love (for each other and the game).

(Small World Department: Jim R. knew of Craig's wife and others in their mutual recent or current positions in the world of commerce.)

Denis With One N and I also toured the clean and friendly confines of Turner Field, getting views from left field, by the Coke bottle and the giant red Adirondack chairs, and walking all the over to the opposite side, by the right-field foul pole.

A splendid time was had by all, to paraphrase the Beatles in Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. 

Southern-ish Man

So, what was Sunday in the South? On the hot and hazy and lazy side. A trip to the Charlotte (North Carolina) Knights' ballpark (in South Carolina), in an attempt to give or leave a signed copy of Baseball's Starry Night to one of the heroes of that night, Dan Johnson, now with the Knights, who were out of town, or en route, to Rochester, of all places, back in my neck of the northern climes. The place was empty and silent. Denis and I tried a few door. One marked exit door was surprisingly open. We took a glance at the blanket of grass and the clay diamond before us. The field, which appeared to be sunken below the stands, gave the stadium a more alluring appearance than the concrete and boxy outer edifice promised. I decided to give Denis the book, in an envelope, charging him with the task of presenting the book to Mr. Johnson at some later date, or perhaps when he trekked to South Carolina one day for cheaper gas. He said he was willing to do that. Plus, he might be able to meet Dan Johnson, and honestly declare, "My friend wrote this book, and we are both in it."

The Giants lost the third game of the weekend series with Oakland, on a player's first homer, a walkoff. Ugh.

On Monday, we drove from Charlotte to Atlanta in Denis's Ford Fusion. Gas was as low as $2.86 a gallon in South Carolina. I don't think we've seen that price in Syracuse since Clinton was president, yes, the same Bill Clinton who gave us budget surpluses. Driving from Spartanburg to Greenville to near Anderson on 85 south one sees signs advertising food or gas on elevated poles that reach, what?, 100?, 300? feet. They are unseemly. What is the limit? 1,257 feet? In Atlanta, Denis and I went to the Starbucks in Buckhead, on Peachtree (that Peachtree). It was hot. Of course. We met Denis's brother Jimmy for dinner at the Grand China restaurant. The Giants won 8-0.

On Tuesday, I went to the Cathedral of Saint Philip (one L, like one N for Denis) and enjoyed its bookstore, its people at the store, and an oasis of silence in the stained-glass church, and then enjoyed Henri's Bakery's sandwich and coffee and chips and dessert for lunch, after a walk in the neighborhood, including a sop at Walgreen's for postcards, toothpaste, and other stuff.