Sports Break!

Aside from seeing friends, the impetus for this trip had been to see the Twins’ new baseball park, Target Field. Which of course doesn’t preclude some of the recurring rituals of my trips back to Minnesota. 

This is the second straight visit where I’ve headed straight to the Tavern on Grand upon arrival, to get some of the best walleye pike served in the metro area. I parked the Nissan Sentra, entered and scoped the table availability for when my friends got there, and sat down at the bar, ordering a Summit EPA. The next item on the agenda: finding out just how bad my alma mater had lost to the USC Trojans in college football. “I just got off a plane,” I told the bartender. “Let me guess: The Gophers lost by more than two touchdowns, am I right?”

 “No!” he answered. “They lost by 11, and they had a lead in the 3rd quarter!” He told me how they had immediately squandered the lead when the USC kick returner scored a TD on the ensuing kick return.

Stunning news! As poorly as Minnesota had played this year, it seemed a sure bet that USC would bury them. Several people at the bar overhead us and we all got into a conversation, as they told me about the game; at least the Gophers were in the game and not getting embarrassed as they had been the week before.

It was good to be there, soon my friends arrived for dinner, and the walleye was fresh, light, delicate and delicious, woo hoo!

On Sunday we were going to see the Twins at Target Field, but there was a wrinkle in the plans. The Vikings were playing pro football the same day; for the first time ever both the Twins and Vikings were playing regular season games at home simultaneously (they used to share stadiums, so their schedules were staggered); to avoid extra “sports” traffic on Washington Ave south, my friends P&K negotiated for a while on what route to take. We ended up driving through my old neighborhood near the University of Minnesota to get across the river, which was kind of a kick.

Ten bucks for parking (not bad, eh?) and we hiked up to the park, entering the Tony Oliva gate (number 6) at right field, and walking all the way around the concourse before finding our seats.

It was this wonderful feel good moment.  Concession stands named for local figures, such as Frankie V’s Italian food (for pitcher Frank Viola), or Senor Smoke (for Juan Berenguer), Twins’ territory beer (all Minnesota brews), Kramarczuk’s sausages, it was great! Plus, if you’re thirsty and a beer vendor passes by, you can just call out “Yo beer!”

What a concept, beer served in the stands— and Californians think they’re progressive.

The game wasn’t as much fun, however. The Oakland A’s had other plans for Francisco Liriano, scoring three runs in the first and winning something like 6-2. The Twins had a couple homers, but my friend P was right when he said it was a boring game, much as his kids gave him grief afterward for being bored. “I didn’t say I was bored,” Dad complained, “I said it was boring.”

But you know what a sport it can be, giving Dad grief.

The next day I went with my friends N & K to the night game, this time approaching from the east. We enterd the Kirby Puckett gate this time, once again right after the gates opened, and we spent over an hour walking around taking it all in, this time doing the second deck, too, hiking up to the highest seats of the upper deck, to take in the view beyond downtown toward Prospect Park (I think).

I got a kick out of the Cuban/Latin concession stand named for Tony Oliva, serving Cuban sandwiches and Cuba Libres. We found the Townhall Tavern and Twins pub, and the game had already begun by the time we finally found our seats. N was amused when I slapped the empty chair next to mine and said, “I want to retire here, right here!”

The Twins and Brian Duensing handled the Indians easily, winning 9-3. N pointed out how many people wore Twins gear, that the region really has gotten behind the team, and there was this wonderful celebratory spirit.

It was a lot of money to spend on a pair of ballgames, really. When I was a kid growing up, we didn’t travel so far on a whim; life was more practical. Measured. Perhaps other people had money for such frivolities, but interstate travel was a major consideration, meriting planning and preparation.

Would I do it again?  In a heartbeat. Even the GPS.