Behind Enemy Lines

I recently came across this excellent post by Andrew Clayman at The Cleveland Fan, where he writes about coming out to watch the Indians while they're on the road. Besides the well written and often amusing account of cheering for the visiting team at a rival's home field, it made me ask a question relating more to who we, in Cleveland, are as fans and how people experience visits to our park.

Most of the year I actually live much closer to Chicago than Cleveland, and earlier this season I made my first visit to U.S. Cellular Field to see the Tribe on the road. By and large I have to say it was a miserable game. First, it rained most of the afternoon and the game was delayed by an hour or so. The crowd was sparse to say the least. Then, the game itself wasn't much to write about. Without digging out my scorecard, I can remember that Ubaldo imploded. The most memorable moments of the game came when our own defense made some of the most spectacular errors I've ever seen, including loosing the ball in the lingering firework smoke following a Chicago home run and the subsequent "exploding scoreboard." Granted, the next two nights we won in Chicago, making me wish I had come to one of those games. Nevertheless, I had a good time. Yes, i enjoyed myself in spite of rain, bad play, and a loss. I actually met quite a few Tribe fans there and had fun chatting with them during the delay.

Luckily, unlike Clayman I didn't have to suffer the kind of adolescent ignorance of locals declaring that our team, our players, and our city suck Somewhere around the 7th inning a teenager sat at the end of my row in the front of the upper deck (there were no more than a few hundred people that night), and, dressed head-to-toe in White Sox gear. Like I said, for the Indians, it was a pretty bad game. With each plate appearance, my remote neighbor began shouting over the railing at each Sox player with a plaintive, nasal voice. "Come ooooon, Aaay-Jaaaay!" We were loosing badly and playing worse and I admit I was getting annoyed. "Come oooooooon, Aaaadaam Dunnn!"

But I quickly recognized my annoyance was petty and pointless. I got up between innings and went over and talked with him. Honestly, he seemed a little scared by the approach of someone in an Indians hat confronting him in the wet and empty stands... but I just went over and said hello and talked a bit about the game. Yeah, we were playing bad that night. Yes, he was cheering his guys. He had never seen a scorecard, so I showed him mine and gave him an extra. The Tribe got pummeled. I enjoyed some Great Lakes Brewing Co. beer. We all had a good, if damp, time.

I love baseball and I love visiting ballparks, and soon I hope to include some comments and pictures of my ballpark visits on this site (still a work in progress). I've visited ballparks where I hold a deep-seated, irrational hatred of the home team. Growing up as an NL fan and in a household devoted to the Cardinals, my loathing of the Cubs runs deep as any historic blood feud. But when I've visited Wrigley the crowd has always been great. Fans I meet have always been a class act. I've always had a good time.

On the other hand, I've gone to games at Yankee Stadium. Yes, I hate the Yankees. Passionately. Beyond reason or reality. Typically, I hate most Yankee fans (though I make a distinction between those who grew up with the old Yankee teams and suffered the bad teams of the 80's, versus younger fans who neither seem to know the game nor hesitate to tell me how much my team sucks). I've been at games in Yankee Stadium where I'm alternately disgusted by the ignorance of attendees, fearing for my life, or laughing at the sheer stupidity I encounter.

(Once in a rain delay I stayed unmoving for 45 minutes in my seat. Everything I had on bore Chief Wahoo or said "Indians", I was not about to crowd under the upper deck awning with the enemy. Three very drunk men came over and surrounded me where I waited. One put his arm around me and said he was proud to see someone like me who's a true Yankee fan, not running from some rain. I don't know if he was illiterate or colorblind or both.)

But, my point is this: What do visitors to Progressive Field experience? I've talked to people who visited in the heady days of the 90's and had a great time. I hope we're still as welcoming as we were then. Last week when we completed a sweep of the Tigers, I crossed paths with a group of teens leaving the park changing "Detroit Sucks!" and I did walk into them and tell them, "Knock it off, guys. We have more class than that." They continued chanting.

It's one thing to come to a game "behind enemy lines" dressed to cheer for your visiting team and simply be obnoxious. But I rarely encounter that. Most of my life I did not live in a place with a major league team, and seeing a game meant a special trip. I've gone to see the Indians in Chicago, New York, and Oakland, and I don't go to disrespect those cities or those fans in their house.

And usually when I see visiting fans in Cleveland, dressed in the caps and jerseys and jackets of a visitor, I try to go up to them and say hello. Ask them if they drove in for the game and if they're enjoying their visit. Usually I meet a father with a young son taking him to see his first game of his dad's favorite team. I want those fans to leave with a great experience. I want those kids visiting with their fathers to grow up thinking that baseball is a game of respect and that Cleveland is a great baseball town.

Because Cleveland is a great baseball town. And it's up to us to keep it that way.