DownSwinging.com

Normally I only end up writing about major news in the professional sports world, but today I’m going to stick in some personal experience. Last night I attended a birthday party of the best variety. 30 of us rode from Bowdoin College to Portland (about a 30-minute journey) on a bus fitted with a variety of cheap, cheap beer. We then proceeded to sit outside the Portland Sea Dogs stadium waiting (drinking) until gametime before entering the complex.

For the first time in my life, I got to be a part of those drunk people at a baseball game. And it was glorious.

Highlights included one friend challenging the Sea Dogs mascot to a dance-off, and with half the stadium (around 8,000 people at the game) watching, a four-round show between the two ensued, good enough to make the judges on “America’s Best Dance Crew” proud. Ultimately the giant Sea Dog won the contest, largely due to his ability to make splits look awesome in his ridiculous costume. Later on in the night, as several of us were naturally heckling the third base coach (Hey 24, why do you even need cleats?) one local Mainer grew a little tired of our endless chirping (the rest of the crowd was totally loving it) and told us, in slightly coarser language, “to please lower our voices.” Instead of hmm, obliging, one of our most pacifistic friends was not having any of it, and went toe-to-toe with the big man, to the bemusement of the rest of us.

Mostly, however, it was a good time because of the whole atmosphere of minor league baseball. For those of you who don’t know, Portland is a gorgeous, artsy, small city in southern Maine. The Sea Dogs are the Red Sox AA affiliate, a team that recently featured Clay Buchholz, Daniel Bard, Michael Bowden and Jed Lowrie. Last night we were only treated to seeing Lars Anderson, even though Daisuke Matsuzaka and Jonathan Papelbon’s younger brother were on the roster. By my count, by the way, Anderson walked at least 19 times.

Regardless of the lack of near-Major League ready talent at the game, it was quite the occasion all-around. I did have one complaint however, and a lesson learned. Some of my less than enthusiastic friends decided that after 10 innings of a 2-2 game it was time to leave. Outnumbered (and because the birthday boy wanted to go) I obliged, but I will be sure to let them each know that the Sea Dogs won with a walk-off home run in the 14th inning, you could say leaving was a bit of a mistake. Now that’s the understatement of the century.