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Go to a Minor League Baseball game this summer. Just do it. There are not many better ways to spend a couple hours, and there’s likely one somewhat close to where you live because there are professional baseball teams everywhere. Minor league games are great, and sometimes I prefer them to MLB games, as I’ve referenced in past posts. The stadiums are small enough to where there’s not a bad seat in the house, the beer and food is (slightly) cheaper, there are theme nights, and you get to see a bunch of guys trying to live the dream. Just fucking inspiring.
Another reason to go is because MiLB games are an underappreciated spot to people watch. The minors bring in a pretty diverse crowd, and due to the previously mentioned stadium size, pretty much all of them are in your vicinity. If the game is boring to you, just take a look around the stadium and observe the wild cast of characters filling up the stands.
The Guys Skipping Work
You have to attend a day game during the week to get this one, and if you do, that likely makes you one of these guys. While spur of the moment mid-week trips are beyond their pay grade and job benefits, this is something they can pull off, and dammit, they’re going to enjoy every second of it. Each sip of beer is a wonderful reminder that on a normal day they would be sitting at a desk hating life. Take a long look at these guys, because you’ll be looking at the happiest men on Earth who have no idea that they automatically drew the low straw to come in during the weekend because they weren’t there to pick for themselves.
The Die Hard
This guy has been coming to these games for years: like two stadiums, three MLB affiliates, and six team names ago. He shows up every night wearing his custom jersey with his name on the back, settles into his seat that has his cheeks melted in, and cheers like there’s no damn tomorrow if they don’t pull out this mid-June Sunday game. He’s called every player for decades by their first name and can remember all of them- from the future All-Stars to the guys who got released after a week. Management adores his dedication, but they’re probably sick of having to tone down his enthusiasm towards the umps.
The Heckler
God, this guy is just an asshole, and he makes sure every single player on both teams knows it. It doesn’t matter which team, if a guy makes an error or gives up a home run, this dickhead is going to wear him out until the game is over. He does his homework, making sure he knows every player’s full name, stats, and family history, because anything is fair game for this shithead. Nothing frustrates this guy more than a cleanly played game, because then he has to resort to just calling no one in particular a “fucking bum,” or going out by the bullpen and making sure every pitcher warming up knows that he better not blow it. What a clown.
The Former Player
Make no mistake, this guy didn’t play pro ball. He may have played some small college, some juco, or some JV in high school. Regardless, he’s a brilliant baseball mind who knows the game inside and out, and he could really make this team a winner if he was in charge – this all according to himself. He’s his group’s Buzz Killington, scoffing during impressive plays because he isn’t impressed, and using nothing but baseball slang the whole game. The highlight of his season was catching the eye of the batter on-deck, and telling him to be ready for the off-speed. This story is then told to all of future grandkids that hate sports because of him.
Grown Man With His Glove
Nothing was more exciting than being a little kid at a baseball game with your cheap tiny glove ready to catch a foul ball. Nothing is more embarrassing than being a grown man holding your softball glove with the intent of catching a foul ball or just protecting yourself. This dude is definitely wearing socks and sandals and is probably sporting the same hat Smalls wore at the beginning of The Sandlot. Keep an eye on him anytime a foul ball is in his vicinity, because you might get to witness a grown man plowing over a 3rd grader.
The Guy Just There To Drink
He doesn’t care who plays or who wins, and he may not even know either of the team names, because he’s shithoused by the 2nd inning. Baseball games only appeal to him because it’s more socially acceptable to drink there than at a bar at 7 p.m. on a Tuesday. He will never ever be able to tell you the score, but he damn sure will be able to tell you that they stop serving beer in the middle of the 7th, and that Jerry at the beer stand on the 3rd base side gives the most generous pours. Every now and then he will give out a big encouraging “LET’S GO TEAM!” just to seem like he’s actually engaged and not just a sloppy piece of shit, but he always fails to realize that it’s right after the visiting team hit a home run. Stadium security has eyes on him as soon as he enters, and they’re constantly ejecting him like a shitfaced Bobby Cox.
The Interns
While watching baseball as a profession seems like a pretty cool job, when you’re getting paid minimum wage, you’ve been at the stadium since 7 a.m. to pull tarp, and your hangover still hasn’t broken yet, or it’s a day game and you’re still hammered, it’s hard to appreciate the wonderful game going on around you. That’s what you’ll see when you look at the stadium interns. Sometimes you’ll see them in a good mood, because they do really love some of the things about their job, but if you catch them at the end of a nine-game homestand, you’ll see them walking around with fake smiles, quietly praying that this game goes over quickly so they can go drink out of the leftover kegs in the Diamond Club. You’ll never see a look of despair quite like the one on an interns face when a bottom of the 9th home run sends the game into extra innings and propels their workday into hour 15.
If these people watching examples aren’t good enough to drag you to a MiLB game this summer, just remember that there’s a beer special at least once a week, and baseball is awesome. .
Image via YouTube
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Kyle Bandujo
The artist formerly known as Crash Davis. My kid doesn't think I'm funny.
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Minor league games are indeed fantastic ways to spend a week night evening. The city’s team near me has DOLLAR beer night on Thursdays. It’s pure excellence.
My team has a dollar deck where you can sit every game for $10/ticket. Dollar beers, dollar nachos, dollar hot dogs, dollar brats.
I worked as an intern for a team last summer, and it literally ruined my summer. 15 hour work days, over eager minor league fans, and the fact that my organization never called a game due to rain. Everything in this article is completely accurate, and it is giving me Vietnam-like flashbacks.
What did you do? I understand these teams are still pretty big organizations, but that seems like a lot of hours for an intern.
I was in the Merchandise Department, I would prep stores, do promotions for item of the game, run one store during the game, close all the cashiers, and clean all the stores. All for $35 a game… Before taxes.
Went to a Frisco Roughriders game last week for the $1 beer and to see the Rangers top two prospects in Alfaro and Gallo and of course Gallo didn’t play (foot surgery), but still acted like he owned the entire place. He was wearing all Rangers gear like he new the call was coming soon. Wish I was a badass.
Bring up Gallo too soon, and we might see a pre-adderall Chris Davis out there.
Yeah, there’s no reason he should be up before the rosters expand later in the year. I know his k/9 ratio improved last season, but I’m not convinced he’s near ready yet.
I am getting tired of how much Kris Bryant’s dick is being sucked for hitting 43 hr’s in the minors when Gallo only hit one less last year. I’ve never heard a ball come off a bat like I have when he’s slapped one out.
It’s a large and economically diverse crowd.
I feel like the die hard, the former player, and grown man wearing his glove are often the same person.
Heckler sounds a lot like every student at a college game.
The Wisconsin Timber Rattlers have dollar beers and hotdogs on Wednesdays. Nothing like getting shithoused and taking down 11 hotdogs in 4 hours in the middle of the week.
I was at their home opener this year, nice ballpark.
Forgot to mention the jersey chasers.
In baseball, they’re called cleat chasers
Crash Davis? More like pussy.
Went to school with this guy, huge douche.
did ya now?
Can’t argue with ya on that one.
I heard he loves to gamble and hates to pull out
Can’t beat the “Used Car Giveaway” I saw at a Round Rock Express game. Six barely mobile rust buckets that could barely circle the warning track.