Minor Amusements

Tonight in Trenton, the Shooter Family went to its first minor league baseball game, a walkover from the first-place Trenton (a Yankee outfit) over the last-place Reading Phillies.

I'd tell you more about it, but short of the forgotten Victor Zambrano shutting down the feeble Phils, there wasn't much of the game that made an impact on me. Instead, it was more the surroundings (I was in a luxury box thanks to a blogging companion who shall remain one of the guys from Hugging Harold Reynolds), the nice little place that is Trenton's Waterfront Park, the inflatable kids' play area, and the post-game fireworks.

Everyone had a good time, and Trenton's got a very nice honor role of past alumni, and you can't help but be charmed by the simple pleasures of minor league baseball. A half hour before the first pitch, we were taking a service elevator up to the luxury box, and the elevator operator told us to listen for him during the game, in that he was doing color for the first three innings, play by play in the fourth through sixth, and color through the close.

I also have T-shirts older than him.

You can see why people like this, and it's not a good idea to underestimate the economics. Two dollar parking is a smile-inducing moment in comparison to the MLB gouging, ten dollar tickets are even better, and all of the merch was cheap, too. Concessions were similar in price to MLB, and the kid area set me back a bit, but in terms of a 3.5 hour night out with the family, you couldn't do much better.

Oh, and the Shoooter Youngest likes fireworks, and yelling. "Baseball!" a lot. So, there's that.

(Oh, and for the record, I remain opposed to the idea of baseball games where the wins and losses don't matter very much, and dream of a world where there are no minor league affiliations, and relegation for teams that tank to AAA. Moving on...)