Back in March, I picked up a “flex book” for the Brooklyn Cyclones — vouchers for 10 discounted tickets, to be used for whatever games I wanted, tickets distributed among them as I saw fit. It was a good idea and thinking about baseball made me happy, so why not?
Then life got in the way: travel, heat waves, miscellaneous domesticity. Earlier this month I got an email reminding me that the season was ebbing away and I hadn’t used any of my vouchers. Which was kind of the Cyclones — after all, they already had my money and didn’t particularly need me.
Then, while I was in Atlanta at Comic-Con, my phone rang. I answered it reflexively and it was … King Henry. Yes, the indefatigably cheerful on-field ringleader of Cyclones between-inning skits. His Highness’s mission was the same as the sender of the earlier email’s: a cheerful reminder that there were fewer and fewer dates left.
(Now, I’m well aware that everyone who works for a team in the low minors does every job — years ago our kid was mystified that the Cyclones employee who wrangled their birthday party somehow vanished before Sandy the Seagull paid a visit and then returned afterwards — but still, there I was at a sci-fi convention chatting with King Henry. Hadn’t had that on my bingo card!)
Tuesday’s heat was miserable bordering on crushing, but I was determined: I was headed for Coney Island. I collected my pristine book of vouchers at the box office, traded one of them for a Cyclones cap in Miami Vice teal and pink, and secured a Brooklyn summer ale and a Nathan’s hot dog.
And you know what? I immediately felt happier. For one thing, it was a good 15 degrees cooler next to the Atlantic Ocean. There were Sandy and Peewee, King Henry and the surf squad, and the Cyclones themselves, wearing blue and pink for some reason. I settled into my (very good) seat, noted the scoreboard had been revamped, and got down to the business of watching Single-A baseball.
Which is so wonderfully different. Watching the Cyclones, I don’t live or die on every pitch. I clap for solid hits or nice plays, try not to groan at misplays (Emily and I used to remind each other that “anything can happen in the New York-Penn League,” and the same is the case in the South Atlantic League), and I smile at seeing only two umps and managers coaching third. I lose track of who’s at the plate, forget the score, and it’s fine. I’m free to simply enjoy the sounds and rhythms of baseball.
By the middle innings the sun had gone down, taking even more edge off the heat, and the neon rings that adorn the light poles at Maimonides Park had started to glow. Beyond the right field corner, the Parachute Jump coruscated merrily, its own vertical light show. I got a cup of ice cream (with sprinkles, of course), secured a 2025 Cyclones baseball card set, and watched the Cyclones and the Jersey Shore Blueclaws do battle.
Said battle didn’t go particularly well for the Cyclones, who fell behind, tied it but then fell behind again. (Unfortunately Brendan Girton, who’s had a nice year as a starter, came out of the game in the second with an apparent injury.) I didn’t see them lose, because by the eighth I’d had my fill and I knew the Mets and Padres were soon to commence hostilities.
So in the eighth inning I left the Cyclones to it — something I’ve almost never done at Citi Field, but which isn’t a sin in A-ball. Life got in the way earlier this summer, but the Cyclones were waiting once I was able to rearrange things, and I was happy to discover how much I’d missed them.
As for the actual Mets and whatever happened in San Diego … oh, let’s not ruin a nice night.
Minor league ball is a lot of fun. Relaxing.
Last night’s game was too – Mets bats put me to sleep, gave it up after 4. The top of the lineup is back at it. And Pete’s looking distressingly like the player we saw last season. Chases and the loop is back in his swing where he can’t hit anything high. I want the guy from April where the flatter swing meant he was hitting doubles everywhere and a few less HRs. Hope Soto’s foot contusion doesn’t transform into “out for the season.”
It’s almost August and I still have no idea who or what this team is.
Nice summation of a night at a Minor League Ballaprk, even if I did have to look up the word “coruscated” to find out what the Parachute Jump was doing.
Even more surprising than a call from King Henry (my Sister only got an Email, I think she has the same plan, maybe the difference is that she had used about 5 of the vouchers already) is that you were able to trade in one of the vouchers (i.e. money already in the bank) for merch (i.e. no additional money in the bank). Well done, Cyclones.
Bad writing by me: The voucher was explicitly for a cap. There’s another one that I left in the book, as I decided I didn’t need two Miami Vice hats.
I used to love going to Brooklyn Cyclones games. They used to have Fireworks every Friday nite, and one time, during Season One, there was a very long game or rain delay, and they went off in the 8th inning. They could not play during them, so both teams just stood on the field and watched until they ended and the game could resume.
Another time, there was another rain delay, so I drove my parents home, and then drove back and re-entered the park at no charge. The rain ended and I was able to stay until the end.
Good times….
I was at a game where they were in extra innings and up against a curfew, so they just set the fireworks off and kept playing. Right behind the batter’s eye. Needless to say, no batter was able to square anything up until the fireworks stopped.
Anything can happen in the New York-Penn League!
“As for the actual Mets and whatever happened in San Diego…”
I’m still waiting for the actual Mets to show up in San Diego.
So now this is all supposed to be Taylor’s fault, and we need to get a hitting CF like Mullins?
No!
The Phony 4 at the top of the lineup need to get their heads out of their butts and start to play ball again, especially the noodle-armed Lindor.
Taylor is the defense we need until those 4 start to hit again. Who would have ever thought that the Bottom 4 (or 5, happy Jeff) would hit better
Yesterday afternoon, the Mets resigned recently released journeyman pitcher Chris Devenski.
Who thought that was a good idea?
Then Devenski went out to face a future Hall of Famer with men on base and the game on the line.
Who thought THAT was a good idea???
Just asking.