Goin' Home

“Hey it’s good to be back home again…”- John Denver

Ok I have to admit, I woke up this morning with a lump in my throat. I couldn’t figure out why at first, my initial thoughts were of excitement of taking my family to the second-to-last Padres home game of the year. Then I realized it was the yearly-dreaded end of the season. Man, I recall that feeling I’d get at the Murph when the grounds crew would start hacking up the pitcher’s mound after the last out of a homestand. Chargers season always (sometimes?!) brought excitement but also some sadness in knowing that I would be hanging up my jersey for six months. (I say sometimes because during the last years of the Padres and Chargers sharing a Mission Valley home, we experienced one of the worst stretches for both teams. At least we had excitement from Trevor Hoffman, Phil Nevin, Eric Owens and of course saying Farewell to Tony but in spite of some pretty bad Padre records, we were lucky to not have Ryan Leaf and a 1 win season. In baseball terms, the Chargers 2000 was a 10-152 season. Yikes!)

Annnyyways, the emotion I carried through the day was much like it had been through the 13 years I spent roaming the Stadium and Ballpark; a little gloomy due to it all ending but even more determined to enjoy every moment of it. And enjoy it I did. During the game I was having a conversation with one of the remaining Pad Squad members from my years and I spoke of how I kind of felt guilty for being a little gloomy; she and the rest of them have been out there every day, working hard to enhance the Fan Experience and their season was coming to an end. I guess that comes from knowing exactly how they feel in late September.

All in all, the best part of the evening was sharing the experience with my wife and our children. I don’t recall much knowledge of baseball in any form until I was about 6 years old, but my kids will be able to honestly say that they grew up around the game. Both Trevor and Layla were 4 months old when they attended their first game (Openers in 2006 and in 2013) and Jojo was all of three weeks old. Which incidentally was Trevor Hoffman’s final game as a Padre.

I find it interesting that it seems as if the further I get from my final game, the more I tend to miss it. Strangely, 2011 was my first season as a regular fan but also my easiest. In a silly and maybe even a self-serving way; I consider 2011 as something of a “Victory Tour”; as my life had only months before been at its lowest state ever and by the time the season started, I was truly happy to just be alive. All the great feeling through that year was merely a bonus. Funny thing is, I don’t miss the part of the job I loved the most. I don’t miss it because it still occurs every time my family and I Play Downtown. Talking with fans, making lifelong friendships and seeing the looks in their eyes when they see how the kids are growing; that’s what I loved best about it. It’s a good thing that there’s so much going on, or else the memories would overwhelm me. Hell, even during my last years when I would get to the Ballpark around 4pm I would go sit in the upper deck to reflect on the past. Memories flooded in and it would be a hundred times stronger these days.

I used to say that it took a month to say hello to everyone at the beginning of a season. There are just so many great people to say hello to, it was impossible to get it all done in one day. Tonight we got as close as possible to pulling it off though. I thought much of those who are no longer with us, like Mark Gomez; the long time GSR who used to work Section 108 and was one of the kindest, most genuine persons I ever had the pleasure of knowing. Also Ken, who was better known as “Pinhead” due to his 1980’s-era floppy hat that was covered in pins, including one of those awesome “Goose Saved the Game!” pins from 1984. Of course, there are still plenty of fans out there who’ve been coming out since the brown and yellow days; like my good buddy Keith up in 301, who regales me with stories of Spring Training in Yuma as if they happened just yesterday. And who could forget Harry the Heckler?! I know there are some fans that are not fans of his but even more than a fan; he’s one of many lifelong friends I’ve made. Remind me some day to tell you the story of a late night after McGregors at the trolley station.

And no Armando, it has nothing to do with building a campfire under the tracks!

Yes, it was a wonderful, heartfelt night; although the highlight reel may say otherwise. If every fan there had even half as much fun as I did, then it was more than worth it. For those who remember, I did the old “hat swap” trick with Luigi and Ismael. When I put Ismael’s hat on Luigi, it looked like a grown-up wearing one of those little ice cream helmets! After, I tried to get Ismael to renew the “Rally Wedgie”, to no avail. Maybe that’s a good thing; since watching Luigi get a wedgie probably isn’t high on the list of wholesome family entertainment. So if you’re looking for a scapegoat in tonight’s loss, blame Ish. A wedgie would’ve won the game, I’m sure of it!

Another great thing that happened (or didn’t happen) was that I was able to dodge Marguerite not once but TWICE. For those in the know, she at one time had become a little overbearing and very unprofessional at times with Pad Squad members and these days, it’s a running joke. I even have long-time season ticket holders assisting my escapes!

Last but certainly not least, the only thing missing other than a “W” was the tailgate. More than once, Jojo asked why we weren’t tailgating and I told him that the folks we tailgate with weren’t there. Of course, he asked “why” to that as well. For those who weren’t lucky enough to tailgate with me back when, my friends Cub and his wife Kathy are two of the most hospitable, fun loving folks around. Cub is the Ted Williams of Tailgating; there might be better ones out there, but I sure as hell ain’t seen one!

One of the things I heard the most tonight was “I haven’t seen you all season!” And they’re right. I don’t get out there nearly as much as I’d like to. But that makes each visit that much more special. We’ve made it to only three games this year, and I used to make twice as many trips to right field per game.

Would I like to attend more games? Of course I would. But duty calls and as much as I loved the Pad Squad and was loved in return by 40,000 people, it pales in comparison to life these days. While my job keeps me away from home five nights a week, I am not alone when I get home and those of you who have followed, assisted and encouraged me in the days since my last game know that the final months of 2010 were the loneliest times of my life. And to be honest, I never in those days could have imagined where my life would be today. Yes, I’ll always have a place in my heart for the Pad Squad Experience. I am humbled every time I have a conversation at the Ballpark; people consistently remind me of the impact the Pad Squad made on their game experience. But for all the verbal thanks and accolades, what I strive to be most remembered for is having been a great husband and father. Friendships I’ve made at Petco Park have greatly assisted me in that quest.

And best of all, when I take my family out there it’s like we never left.

I call that the Best of Both Worlds.

See you next season!

Rudy

WHO won the game???

A few months ago, some coworkers and I were talking about football. When we got to the subject of Super Bowl XXIX a 49ers fan chimed in with “Yeah man, we really kicked your asses that year.” The conversation shifted between the tenacity and hard-nosed style that got the Chargers through Pittsburgh and the sheer firepower of that 49ers team.

Throughout the night, he went over and over again about how “we” tore the Chargers a new one. In a conservative estimate, I must’ve heard about it a dozen times after the next few hours. This kid was 22 years old, trying to act 30 and coming across as a very immature 15 year old.

I’d finally had enough, so I asked him what his age was when the game was played. He replied “Uhhh, I don’t know, three or four…”

“So you didn’t suit up, right/”
“Huh?”
“You weren’t on the field, were you?”

“Ummm, no…”

“You didn’t make any tackles, throw or catch any passes or make any key blocks, right?”

"Uhhhhh…"
“No, you didn’t! So shut the F&*# UP, because YOU didn’t win a damn thing!”

This outburst wasn’t just in response to his groundless bragging but to a deeper emotion that had been brewing for quite some time. Rooting for the home team is a very American thing to do; and living vicariously through your athletic heroes can be very fulfilling at times. But when people start using it as an all-encompassing bragging right, it tends to paint a picture of the individual as someone who has very little to offer; therefore using the accomplishments of others in a ridiculous attempt to prove their own greatness. This emotion started simmering a few years back after overhearing a conversation between a Kobe Bryant fan and a Lebron James fan. Lebron fan was presenting himself as better than Kobe fan and even better than Kobe himself simply because he’s a Lebron fan.

If I had that way of thinking, then I’d be telling the world that I’m a better hitter than 90% of all players in baseball history, because I like Tony Gwynn. In addition, I’m one of the best blues guitarists in history because I’m a fan of Stevie Ray Vaughan. I’m a better actor than Keanu Reeves because I admire Tom Hanks. Wait, scratch that last one. The dead coyote I saw on the road during my drive home from work is a better actor than Keanu Reeves. But I think you get my point.

I don’t know if the advent of social networking has fueled it, or that social networking has helped uncover an ugly underside of sports fandom. I do know that harsh, sometimes even hurtful words come from otherwise decent people when it comes to sports. Either way, I find it laughable when one person could attempt to claim superiority over another due to accomplishments they had no hand in.

I do know that when I see a foul language-filled diatribe or even a vicious argument based on athletic teams, I ignore it. I’m all for conversation about great players and great teams. And yes, I worked in Major League Baseball for 13 years so I know what I’m talking about. Next to the game itself, my favorite part of the job was interacting with the fans. I may not root for the Rockies, but I enjoyed talking with their fans about the soon to be retired great Todd Helton. I often kid a very dear friend of mine about his Giants and their manager Darth Bochy, who is also someone I consider a friend. I’ve had great times ribbing on and taking ribbing from St. Louis fans. And as always, the conversations would always drift to the game itself. There’s nothing like talking to a Cards fan who grew up watching Stan Musial telling me that Tony Gwynn was the best since then. Good times spent with great people. Hell, I’ve  even had great conversations with Dodger fans about the times I met Tommy Lasorda and talking about their outstanding infield of the late 70’s-early 80’s. But I have no use for those who try and take credit for their vicarious lives. They say “It ain’t bragging if you can do it”. To that I say “You’ve done nothing, so why are you bragging?!”

Sadly, there’s an element in every crowd who attend just to talk trash to the opposing teams. In college a classmate of mine commented that he didn’t even like baseball; he went to games just for the opportunity to talk trash. I found it very ironic that just a few weeks later, I saw him at the Stadium being tended to by EMS personnel. Neck brace, busted nose and likely eating through a straw for the next several weeks. Seems he talked trash to the wrong person. Hope it was worth it…

I once heard that politics and religion are two things you should never talk with friends about, seems to me that sports are steadily working their way onto that list. It’s crazy, how angry and bitter some people can get about an outcome they had nothing to do with. People who go to games with the intention of creating a negative experience for others often find themselves with a free pair of steel bracelets and a date with a judge, and rightly so. The once wholesome environment of American Sport is not all that wholesome anymore. I find it interesting that you hear a lot about soccer hooligans in Europe but there’s little to no mention of the verbal and physical thuggery here at home. Give it time; I’m sure it’ll be part of a great national debate in the next decade or so.

Until then, enjoy your team. Enjoy their wins. Take note that they’re their wins, not yours. Stand behind them during losses and share it all with your children. Carry on the traditions while having some respect for fans of opposing teams. And always remember, any player on the opposing team is a helluva lot better than you, because he’s paid to be there and you have to pay to watch. But ultimately, when you carry yourself as if you’re better than another person simply because you root for different teams, what does that say about you?

I think you get the picture.

See you in the stands,

Rudy

PS: Raider fans, please thank your P.O., lawyer, baby grandma or whoever read this to you.