Sunday, September 27, 2015

Return to Oriole Park

September 11, 2015

We chose to return to Oriole Park as Orioles fans this time. This trip also marked our 60th game together. Consider it our Traveling Baseball Baberversary. We left for Baltimore after work. Made pretty good time until the BQE. There, we died. We died for a long time. On the plus side, we drove alongside a sexy beast in an Acura. He waved to us. We swooned.

We posted photos and videos of our drive down to Baltimore on Instagram/Twatter (@TravelingBBabes). If you haven't checked them out/"liked" all of our photos yet, you should really get on that. We don't know what you're waiting for.

Serena photographed our arrival:
We parked in a nearby garage for $20, which sounds steep, but after being on the road for over four hours, we probably would've paid a lot more. We just wanted out of the car. We approached the stadium from the same angle that we approached it in 2008.
The first thing we noticed is that there were the new additions to the area (at least the additions were new for us). The numbers of retired Orioles. And also, Babe Ruth. With a lot of people hanging around him.

Once inside, we received our free giveaway - an Orioles hoodie sweatshirt.We also got our TrapperKeepers stamped and ran around the Kids' Zone.


Before heading to our seats, we bought an O's pretzel and a bacon on a stick.

Lisa had an incident while standing on line waiting for her stick of bacon. When Serena found her at the stand, Lisa had dry heave face on. Serena almost asked why when she smelled it. The scent of diaper shit. And something special. Extra special. According to Lisa's sources (and by "sources," we mean that Lisa eavesdropped on a couple's conversation), the Orioles' ballpark staff neglected to take the garbage out during the last homestead. We cannot confirm or deny if this is true. It seems unlikely that this is what transpired, but the smell was unlike any other. It was worse than the Bog of Eternal Stench. And death. Decaying death. And poop. Decaying poop.

On a more positive, both food items were delicious. Thank god the poop smell couldn't curb our appetite.

Here are some photos taken from our seats:
 This photo is why we're probably not looking any sexier from our half-marathon training:
We look so much nicer in low lighting...

There are 79 bronze baseball-shaped plaques scattered across the concourse on Eutaw Street representing each home run hit beyond the outfield walls to Eutaw Street. Since there are so many, we agreed to document the first Yankee player we found. Unfortunately, that Yankee was Johnny Damon. Since Serena refused to allow that man to be commemorated on our blog, we settled for the second Yankee. That player was Curtis Granderson, now playing for the Mets. So it was a win-win.

We also found the plaque for Ken Griffey's home run during the 1993 Home Run Derby in which he hit the wall of the warehouse.
We found out that Papa Schwall was in the house, so we met him by Boog's BBQ to say hello. He kind of reminds us of Papa L., only he's not bitter. Or angry. We failed and didn't take a photo of him for the blog. Doom on us. He wore a spiffy Orioles polo shirt whereas we looked like greasy white trash.

Since Serena has been to Oriole Park several times before her visit with Lisa in 2008, she's already sampled the savory tastes of Boog's BBQ. Therefore, Serena purchased a crab cake ("crab cakes and football. That's what Maryland's made of.") for us to split. At the the BBQ stand, Lisa ordered the pork sandwich and added BBQ sauce and horseradish. Since we didn't feel like climbing all the way back to our seats, we sat on the floor of Eutaw Street and ate. Like classy beasts. Sitting around the African watering hole, swatting the flies were our smelly tails.
Again, our food choices were on point this evening. This made up for the horrendous sausage sandwich we had at the ballpark in 2008. Serena's phone began dying in the top of the 8th inning, so before it officially died, we ran to the area behind left centerfield to photograph the bronze statues of the retired players.

We knew that we had to get back to New York for our Yankees' double header the following afternoon. Therefore, instead of spending the night, we chose to head back to Long Island that night. We initially planned on staying for the entire game, but to be frank, the game wasn't pretty. Kansas City rolled all night. At the bottom of the 8th, we felt it best to hit the road. It was already after 11, we had at least four hours to drive, and we knew that we had a long day coming our way. So we left. As we departed, we re-took the photo of the Babe Ruth statue without anyone using him as a jungle gym.

As Serena snapped these last photos, her phone died. We returned to the car and turned the air conditioner on as high as possible so that we could continue wearing our comfy cozy sweatshirts.

Lisa turned onto the parkway. Serena plugged her phone into the mobile charger. A few things happened. For starters, we missed Papa Schwall finding awesome field level seats for us to sit in. More importantly, we missed the grand slam home run and solo home run that gave Baltimore the come from behind victory. Awesome.

You're welcome, Baltimore. If we'd stayed until the end, you would've lost.

Sunday, September 13, 2015

TBB's First Yankees' Double Header Ends in Failure

Saturday was a day of many firsts for us. It was the first time we rolled into a game (any game) with a posse. First double header at Yankee Stadium. First time attending 3 games in 24 hours. First time hating on Blue Jays fans. Lisa tried Yuengling for the first time (and actually liked it). So we'll start from the beginning.

We'd just come off a Friday that included a drive to and from Baltimore and an Orioles game. We got home Saturday morning at two. We got tickets to this Yankees game for registering early for the Stephen Siller Tunnel to the Towers 5K. Stephanie, Auntiedukes, and Julia are all running with us and therefore, received these tickets as well. Auntiedukes ordered an extra ticket for Uncle Alan, so we already knew that we'd be sitting with a sizable group. Then we found out that our friends, Lindsey and Brian were going, so we agreed to drive in together to save on parking, gas, and tolls. Saturday's game was supposed to take place at 4:05 pm.Then the game was changed to 1:05 pm. Then it became a double header. Bonus.

We arrived a little late at the stadium, so we missed the first home runs by Gardner and Headley.

We parted ways at their section and met the rest of the crew at our seats.
The game started promising. We were with good people. The Yanks were winning. Serena received word that Meryl's brother (and by extension, Serena's adopted brother) and mother were in the house, so Serena headed off to grab a drink at the Sunrun Rooftop Deck.

While Serena caught up with David and Mama Landau, Lisa attempted to buy her own beer from a wandering gypsy vendor. It did not end well for her. The vendor carried Bronx Brewery Pale Ale, which Lisa had never tried before, but she figured, "why not?" She knew something terrible was afoot when, in lieu of a cup of beer, Lisa received two cups of mostly head. The beer also tasted like someone took a shit in her cup. Julia thought it was hilarious.
It also went terribly for the Yankees. The lead quickly dissipated. With the lead gone, the bandwagon Jays fans arrived. Allow us to travel back in time. To a time when the Blue Jays were not contenders. To a time when the TBB traveled across the border to O'Canada. Lisa was stopped at customs and was questioned for her decision to travel to Toronto in order to see the Blue Jays. Even country officials scoffed at this team. At the stadium, the stands were mostly empty.

Fast forward to yesterday's games. Our stands were filled with a pack of Blue Jay memorabilia-wearing ASS CLOWNS. Do you know how we know these fans were phony bandwagon fans? Because while in Toronto, we went two games and no one acted like an obnoxious ass clown. Now these fake ass bitches roll into our house and act like buffoons. Oh, no, no. We will not accept what Rodney Harrison calls, "this foolishness." Therefore, we gave the fans The Kermit Face.

Serena ordered herself and Auntiedukes a Yuengling and we each got a bucket of chicken tenders with garlic fries for $23 (no garlic would've been $20, but seriously, why wouldn't you make the $3 investment?). Let us repeat that. We EACH ordered a bucket of chicken tenders with garlic fries. Stephanie acted like a real lady and simply ordered herself a "platter." As we returned to our seats, several men RUDELY implied that we were gluttons. Note: we didn't judge them when they refilled their popcorn bucket not once, but twice. And then wore the bucket on their heads. Had the hat situation not gone down, we'd planned on stealing the empty bucket on their departure so that WE could get a refill, but the fact that it rested on a stranger's head is crossing the line. Even for us. Also, they took the bucket with them when they left, so...yeah.

The game would go into several infuriating extra innings and end in a Yankees loss.
We tried to remain optimistic. The day could be salvaged with a win.
Unfortunately, the second game began where the first left off. The Yankees looking like the Mighty Ducks before Gordon Bombay took over coaching duties and the Blue Jays fans acting like Beyonce was in town. Assholes.

Basically, the only good thing to come out of these two games is the discovery that Dustin Ackley is adorable and has a killer smile and that Lisa likes Yuengling. The rest of the day was pretty much a shit show. Including the drive home.

Sunday, September 6, 2015

Our Roadtrip to Cooperstown

Well, folks. We finally did it. We kept one of our promises. We made it up to Cooperstown to visit the Hall of Fame. Serena hadn't been there since she was a munchkin and this was Lisa's first visit. We'll post a good chunk of photos in the blog below, BUT we did post a few to Instagram and Twatter that we're not going to repost here. Therefore, if you're concerned that you've missed something, be sure to check out one or both of those social media outlets (@TravelingBBabes).

We arrived in Cooperstown Friday night. Serena made us a killer playlist and if you follow us on Instagram, you would've had an opportunity to enjoy one of our many exceptional sing along videos.

As per Google maps, it should only take us four and a half miles. We determined that Google lies to us. It took us over five hours. Partly because the Cross Bronx Expressway is Hades. If you've read or seen Percy Jackson, you may think Hades is beneath LA, but that's false. It's actually the Cross Bronx. However, a major factor in us arriving so late is the fact that you must travel miles and miles of creepy country road in the dark surrounded by ghost fog.

Some of you may not be in touch with the supernatural and/or the show, Supernatural, but ghost fog is a very real danger. It's like fog, only worse. It has all of the dangerous components of normal fog, but includes ghosts that may try to infiltrate your automobile or person. And then kill you.

Obviously, we survived.

We headed out to the village of Cooperstown the next morning. We parked at Doubleday Field and got to watch a bunch of old fat men attempting to play baseball. It was an embarrassing display of athletic prowess. Men in your 20's? We've seen your future. And it's ugly.
 We found this statue in the parking lot. It's called "Sandlot."
The price for admission to the Hall of Fame is $23.
They recommended that we start our tour on the second floor. From there, we headed up to the third floor and then back down to the first. We walked through a hallway of "lockers" for each team in the league before reaching the exhibits.
The rest of the 2nd floor exhibits included:

We found the fact that the Chicago Cubs recording 116 victories fascinating considering the Cubs are...well...the Cubs. How things have changed.
 Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig's lockers:
 Women in Baseball:
 Tom Seaver:
 Not Tom Seaver:

On the third floor, we found an exhibit on super fans and crazy characters at ballparks. Like...legit fans and individuals that were once alive and attended ball games. They have an exhibit. They were so f*cking weird and memorable that they have their own exhibit. We need to be in this exhibit. It's our new goal in life.

The super fan display was just outside the "Sacred Ground" exhibit, which basically catalogs what we, as baseball fans, love about going to baseball games.
The Hank Aaron exhibit led us into the "One for the Books" exhibit, chronicling all of the records that have been set and broken in baseball throughout history.

The actual Hall of Fame Gallery is on the first floor. Here is where we found the exhibits for the new inductees, including John Smoltz:
We snapped a few pics of some of our favorites:

This gallery housed the original class of inductees as well as the most recent:


Also on the first floor is an area for children:
There would've been more photos of us fooling around in the kids' section, but we were hindered by an extremely obnoxious family. The parents were actually more rude than the children. Blame them for our failure.