Safeco Field

Safeco Field

1250 1^st Avenue

Seattle, WA 98134

August 24, 2008

Our first major stadium trip was to the west coast. Needless to say, we were ridiculously excited (just not about the flying part). The people we spoke to about this trip were impressed with our dedication. Our goal was to hit three stadiums over the course of the vacation. Our overnight flight was smelly and unpleasant, but we’re not going to get into that at this time. If you’d like to hear more about it, email us and we’ll tell you about the gassy individuals sitting near us.

We arrived at the Inn at Queen Anne in the wee hours of the morning. It’s a lovely, quaint hotel, but it’s on the old side, supposedly haunted, and has no elevators. Therefore, we had to lug two overweight suitcases up three flights of stairs.

On to the actual game. We took a bus to Safeco Field (one of the easiest and cleanest public transportation rides we’ve ever taken).

We bought our traditional souvenirs (a hat and a mascot) at the team shop before heading inside to watch batting practice. It was a beautiful sunny day, contrary to what we’d been expecting. Because of the amazing weather, Safeco’s dome roof was open, exposing us to the clear, blue sky and the roof of Qwest Field, home of the Seahawks.

The Oakland A’s were warming up in left field, but before checking that out, we got our picture taken with the field in the background.

In left field, we chose seats in the first row. As we peacefully enjoyed the warmth that the sun provided, took in the sights of Safeco, and listened to the calming sound of the baseball slapping the leather of a mitt, we were suddenly interrupted by alarmed shouting. Serena looked toward the field and saw a white sphere speeding toward us. Shrieking at Lisa (who was fervently searching her purse for something), she ducked. The ball passed directly between where our heads had been and nailed the seat behind us with a loud smack. The fans scurried to behind us to claim ownership of the rouge ball. We slowly sat up, struggling to catch our breath and slow our heart beats.  A security guard came over to check on us to make sure there was no brain damage (there wasn’t…only emotional). Henry Rodriguez, the player on the receiving end of the catch, checked on us from afar and a few fans encouraged him to throw us a ball, which he did and which Serena caught. After batting practice ended, the culprit who tried to kill us jogged over and apologized. We think he was being sincere, but there’s a slight chance that he’d been hired to “take us out.” The culprit turned out to be A’s relief pitcher, Brad Ziegler. He claimed that he felt pretty guilty about trying to assassinate us, so he posed for a picture and signed two balls for us.

We told him about our stadium tour and he encouraged us to stop by the A’s dugout to see him when we visited Oakland later in the week.

Once he disappeared into the bullpen, there were no other players to watch on the field, so we wandered around the stadium to get a better look at the place (and perhaps find Mariner Moose). We found on one wall, depictions of the American League and National League created with license plates. American League:

National League (a bit out of date, considering it’s still showing the Montreal Expos):

While we took pictures of the license plate artwork, Mariner Moose’s #1 fan shuffled by. Literally. We’re not exaggerating. This dude is Mariner Moose’s #1 fan.

We’d like everyone who has been calling us furries to really study this photo of the one who calls himself “Moose Man.” He has dozens of little Mariner Mooses affixed to his outfit. So…no more calling us weirdos, kay? This guy has totally topped any bizarre behavior we may have exhibited (for example, our traveling stuffed mascot entourage). Feeling better about ourselves having witnessed this situation, we continued on our way to find the location of the real Mariner Moose and discovered this stamped on the floor:

We followed the trail of hoof prints to the Moose’s Den (located on the main level behind center field), where Mariner Moose poses for photos between the 2^nd and 3^rd innings and 7^th and 8^th innings. We’d have to return for our photo opportunity.

It was at this time that the crisp blue sky rapidly began to turn to a dark charcoal. Rain drops started to darken the cement and then the coolest thing happened. The dome’s roof began to close. We stopped walking and stared open-mouthed as the roof slowly made its way across the field. We took at least ten pictures of the stupid thing closing and gawked like tourists while locals walked around us, paying no attention to what was happening.

At the end of the 2^nd inning, we returned to the Moose’s Den to get our picture taken. As we waited on line, we could barely control our happiness. Why don’t all stadiums do this? It would solve the major problem that we have regarding having to stalk the creature and its entourage around the entire stadium in an effort to get a picture taken! It’s such a waste of time. In the Moose’s Den, not only do they take your picture on your camera, but they also take a professional picture that they print off and GIVE to you without asking for any money. They simply hand it to you on your way out of the Den. It’s a complimentary photo of you and glory. Free.

On our way back to our seats, we stumbled across yet another free activity. Face painting! Where the hell were we? The Twilight Zone? Since when does anyone in this country give anything for free? Especially in the MLB. We obviously couldn’t turn down an opportunity to be sprayed in the face for free. Normally, in New York, we’d have to pay for this kind of sh*t.

We decided to get the Mariners logo sprayed on opposite cheeks (on our faces, not a$$es…we feel that it’s important that we specify with this audience).

Ta da! Now we really were #1 Mariners fans.

Free mascot picture and free face painting. There was only thing that could top this ice cream sundae with a cherry and that was a nice, fat, juicy Italian sausage.  We climbed the steps to the upper deck where our seats were located and bought our sandwiches. Apparently, Safeco is known for its Ichiro Roll, but feeling skeptical about eating sushi at a stadium, we did not partake.

The sandwiches were not good. Ok. They weren’t necessarily bad, but they weren’t good either. Enough’s enough. At AT&T Park, we would NOT be buying an Italian sausage. It’s just senseless at this point. Clearly the Italian goodies should be left to Italy and New York because no one else (except for RFK Stadium) does it better. Lisa was so disappointed in her sausage that she bought an ice cream sundae in a Mariners helmet cup.

Back to the actual game being played on the field. A Mariner (who we can’t remember exactly) hit a home run and on the electronic scoreboard in center field, Eric Estrada popped up and danced. This prompted a hysterical fit of laughter that garnered strange looks from our neighbors. If anyone knows the reason for this Eric Estrada video, please email us. We need to know. We struggle to sleep at night because of this.

The Mariners’ closer, JJ Putz, was called upon to shut down the A’s in the 9^th inning. Putz jogged from the bullpen to the mound to the head-banging sound of AC/DC’s “Thunder.” Only two lone jack wagons rose to their feet to cheer and scream their heads off for their favorite team’s closer. Can you take a wild guess as to who those jack wagons were? It was us. Like a-holes. We looked like lunatics. Other than a few scattered applauses and cheers throughout the stands, the entrance of the team’s closer was nothing like what we were used to with the Mets and Yankees. In New York, both closers were signaled by Metallica’s “Enter Sandman.” In Billy Wagner’s case, the song signaled a chorus of groans. In Mariano Rivera’s case, Metallica was greeted by a stadium shaking beneath a crowd of fans stomping their feet in appreciation and enthusiastic cheering. For JJ Putz, he got one entrance at Safeco Field where two idiot New Yorkers named Lisa and Serena screamed their heads offs for him in typical New York fashion.

When we exited the stadium, we stepped into what seemed like a monsoon. We decided to be super clever and try to hail a cab instead of waiting on the bus stop. Little did we know that Safeco has a taxi stand and scoring a cab on the wrong side of the stadium would be nearly impossible.  It took at least 30 minutes of standing in the freezing cold rain for us to catch a cab and in that time, we saw our bus pull up twice at the stop across the street. When we finally climbed into the backseat of our chariot, shivering (note: both of us wore flip flops), the driver said, “Why didn’t you grab a cab at the taxi stand?” Fail.

Back at the warm, dry hotel room, Lisa introduced Mariner Moose to his new family and then we took a nap like two elderly folks in a nursing home.

The next day, we’d be heading to San Francisco for our Giants and Athletics leg of the tour.

Until then, we’ll leave you with the words of the Beatles: “we’ve got a ticket to ride. We’ve got a ticket to ride. We’ve got a ticket to ride, but we don’t care.”