Friday, July 30, 2004
Those Of You In The Expensive Seats, Just Rattle Your Jewelry
As the shit starts to hit the fan in the Trading Deadline Chicken Game (this just in: Anna Benson won't get to add PNC to her Favorite Ball-Parks List after all), here's something I wrote on Sunday July 25 after DogBoy and I returned from a PNC trip to see the Good Guys In Black sweep the Bad Guys In Red. It was by far THE BEST GAME that we have seen at PNC in the 4 years we've been going there. What follows is a highly subjective review of the 200 Club Level at the Best Ballpark In The Bigs. I'll leave in the alcohol references as long as you don't make me out to be some kind of inebriated sot. Please forgive the length of the post, I make no claims to being another Hemingway, or even another Rowdy.
-=-=-=-=-
DogBoy and I wheedled our way into the 200 Club Level right after the gates opened, and spent some time enjoying the high-rent district.
Actually I was in search of bourbon, plus a pregame visit with Denis Repp [thanks again for the media notes, Denis]. We came to the conclusion that if you haven't paid $60 to get access to the lounges in this swanky level where consecutive liquor bars run along the outer wall, that the ONLY place to get non-beer alcohol on the entire inside-the-turnstiles premises of PNC is the Outback Steakhouse. I find this quite dismaying. I don't know why it never dawned on me till now when we've been going there since '01, but there it is. Did Outback grease some palms for this exclusivity deal, or are the Pirates trying to play Temperance Union Schoolmarm with the non-upper-crust fan base? Either way it stinks. I am considering Legal Action to stop this Unconstitutional Discrimination Against Boozers. The Eighteenth Amendment was repealed.
Back in 3RS days we always went first to the bar on the gate-D side called the Steelhead Grill. It was crowded and noisy but a good place to sit and eat chicken-wings and imbibe, prior to going to our seats. There is simply no equivalent place for the general-ticketholding-public at the new park. Outback excepted, you've got to be up on the 200 level to get to the hard stuff, and the only way they let you up there is with a 200-level ticket. UNLESS you just happen to get lucky when it's real early and there's no crowd yet, and you find a tame gatekeeper who believes you when you say you want to check out seating locations for future ticket purchases on your way back down to steerage where your tickets are. Which was not a lie: we did want to check out seat locations, we just just wanted to do it while sipping bourbon-and-ginger-ales. The tickets we had for the game were not even cheapies; they were fancy-printed full-season ducats for right-on-the-railing seats at 1B. If you watch the pierogi races, the finish line was smack-dab in front of us. So it's not like we were unkempt bleacher bums trying to pass. No offense to all you unkempt bleacher bums. But a 'regular' 100-level season ticket won't get you into that 200-level lounge area, no sirree. I cannot answer for the $100+ Home Plate Club tickets which are also on the 100 level ... but my guess is that those people have a double-secret private lounge in a Secure Undisclosed Location, that even the 200-people can't get into. Money buys comfort and insulation, and this park is a good example.
There were a good many families-with-multiple-kids in the 200 lounge area, which surprised me, knowing how expensive it is to do stuff with multiple kids. And I don't see any reference to kids' discounts on any ticket prices on the Pirate website. The promotional giveaway for the day was free Pirate Parrot alarm-clocks to 12-and-unders, so that may have skewed the demographics. Heaven knows the whole place sounded like a Manhattan telephone switchboard, as all the tykes played with their analog! mechanical! wind it up with two bells on top and a clapper! clocks. Leeeny was extremely dismayed at her inability to pass for 12. Where were those monkeyboys when she needed them.
There were numerous roving small packs of white-shoed, white-haired, white-skinned guys, which was more like what I expected to see. Lots of Polo shirts and golf tans.
Air-conditioning, lots of tables and comfy chairs with soft cushions, Bucco memorabilia framed on the walls, such as a Maz HOF signed jersey, and the shoes that Dock Ellis wore during his 'LSD' no-hitter, although the nameplate made no reference to chemical assistance. Convenient access to the food and the aforementioned drinks. The bourbons were $4.75 at one bar and $5.00 at another a little farther around the perimeter, I can't explain that. I ONLY HAD THOSE TWO, HONEST. Many many flat-screen televisions embedded into the walls, if you didn't want to leave the conditioned air and brave the elements to watch the actual game. You can't see the field from inside the lounge itself, you have to go outside to look down. Several pool tables, to while away rain delays or ugly blowouts. A printer kiosk that spits out copies of the day's starting lineups as soon as they've been set. A guy carving roast meat for sandwiches served on fresh foccacia. Copious friendly attendants. The whole thing was similar in ambience to the lounge you'd find in the ground floor of a good downtown hotel, presuming it chose a Pirate decorating scheme.
Outside the glass doors, the seats were much nicer than those the hoi-polloi put their cheeks into: wider, way more legroom between rows, and very well cushioned. The elevation above the field is perfect. There was no equivalent at 3RS because at that height, you had the low ceiling from the 2nd deck over your head, whereas here you're out in the open. It would get very hot to sit on the 3B side during a sunny day game (SPF 30+ and a full-brimmed hat advised), since the shadows fall only on the upper-deck-1B-side during the worst heat of the day -- however for a night game then the 3B side gets the knockout view of the skyline and river, and would be beyond primo for Fireworks Nights. Fireworks Night In Pittsburgh joke goes here.
There are a few suites sticking off of this open lounge area, which might (?) be rentable per-game instead of the more permanent lease arrangements for the private corporate boxes in the level directly below, which we didn't even attempt to get into. Leeeny knows her limits. We stuck our noses in one of the 200-level suites and it had a lovely spread of hors d'oeuvres all laid out and waiting for people who weren't there yet. Heaven knows what that stuff costs, because I know they require that you buy all your food from the in-house catering arm. You can't rent a box and tote in your own Walmart pretzels and Beer Warehouse keg, for instance. I saw a cheeseball that would probably set you back 50 bucks. No price lists in evidence, and I didn't have the chutzpah to ask for one, since we were trying to keep a low profile.
When we were done drinking and gawking, and when we had scoped out the seats to see exactly where we'd choose to sit if tickets were available (sec 207, row C, seats 1 & 2: please feel free to buy some and mail them to me at the address on this page), we said adieu to our Pampered Pirate interlude, and headed back downstairs to shoo the pesky autograph-hounds off of the seats we had paid for, and wait for the ballgame to begin.
It would be VERY easy to get used to the 200 level were it not for the sticker-shock. The idea of having full-season seats in 2xx is pie-in-the-sky, lottery-ticket dreamstuff. Not coincidentally I am sure, the club does *not* offer partial-season plans for these seats -- it's either full-season or individual-games only, with a huge unit-cost differential: $27-$32 per game for full-season purchase, but $55-$60 per individual game. Scathing editorial comment withheld. If you are looking at the PNC seating map, I'm talking about the red-colored sections, the ones surrounding the umbrella'ed patios when you look up (or down) at the deck. The patios are nice too, by the way. A fine place to party with your well-heeled Young Republican playmates.
Realistically, I can see maybe buying one or MAYBE two games per season where we could treat ourselves to this level of cushiness. It would be hard for us to justify (or afford) more, because it is beyond shocking to even contemplate the idea of paying SIXTY DOLLARS for just the *ticket* to ONE REGULAR SEASON BASEBALL GAME, played by a team that hasn't played .500 ball since music came on vinyl and my computer looked like this. It's equally shocking to think of paying that much to see a World Series champion, for that matter. I know the 'economic realities' of trying to bring in enough revenue to field a competitive team in today's market, blah blah blah. I won't go there right now. An alternative for DB and I as Blair Countians could be that we go see more games in Affordable Altoona and fewer games in Pricy Pittsburgh. But I am still more of a Pirate fan than a Curve fan, so that's not an even-up trade to me.
There's no question that you would get an entirely different feel for the ballgame, physically, up in those seats. Back when DB and I went to the very first game at PNC in April 2001, one of my initial-impression criticisms was how cramped and uncomfortable the (field-level) seating was compared to 3RS. I still notice that at every game we attend at PNC, but I now conclude that I've just been sitting in the wrong place. On the Good Ship HMS Nutting-McClatchy, if you want to do your dancin' on the Promenade Deck, your passage will cost you $60, not including the price of those holy-grail Jim Beams that instigated the Quest in the first place.
It was an interesting day, as well as a helluva good time for a change, ballgame-wise. We swept the Redlegs, the crowd was nutso, and the last pitch of the game was 97-mph called-third-strike heat from Joe Table. Fun, fun.
-=-=-=-=-
DogBoy and I wheedled our way into the 200 Club Level right after the gates opened, and spent some time enjoying the high-rent district.
Actually I was in search of bourbon, plus a pregame visit with Denis Repp [thanks again for the media notes, Denis]. We came to the conclusion that if you haven't paid $60 to get access to the lounges in this swanky level where consecutive liquor bars run along the outer wall, that the ONLY place to get non-beer alcohol on the entire inside-the-turnstiles premises of PNC is the Outback Steakhouse. I find this quite dismaying. I don't know why it never dawned on me till now when we've been going there since '01, but there it is. Did Outback grease some palms for this exclusivity deal, or are the Pirates trying to play Temperance Union Schoolmarm with the non-upper-crust fan base? Either way it stinks. I am considering Legal Action to stop this Unconstitutional Discrimination Against Boozers. The Eighteenth Amendment was repealed.
Back in 3RS days we always went first to the bar on the gate-D side called the Steelhead Grill. It was crowded and noisy but a good place to sit and eat chicken-wings and imbibe, prior to going to our seats. There is simply no equivalent place for the general-ticketholding-public at the new park. Outback excepted, you've got to be up on the 200 level to get to the hard stuff, and the only way they let you up there is with a 200-level ticket. UNLESS you just happen to get lucky when it's real early and there's no crowd yet, and you find a tame gatekeeper who believes you when you say you want to check out seating locations for future ticket purchases on your way back down to steerage where your tickets are. Which was not a lie: we did want to check out seat locations, we just just wanted to do it while sipping bourbon-and-ginger-ales. The tickets we had for the game were not even cheapies; they were fancy-printed full-season ducats for right-on-the-railing seats at 1B. If you watch the pierogi races, the finish line was smack-dab in front of us. So it's not like we were unkempt bleacher bums trying to pass. No offense to all you unkempt bleacher bums. But a 'regular' 100-level season ticket won't get you into that 200-level lounge area, no sirree. I cannot answer for the $100+ Home Plate Club tickets which are also on the 100 level ... but my guess is that those people have a double-secret private lounge in a Secure Undisclosed Location, that even the 200-people can't get into. Money buys comfort and insulation, and this park is a good example.
There were a good many families-with-multiple-kids in the 200 lounge area, which surprised me, knowing how expensive it is to do stuff with multiple kids. And I don't see any reference to kids' discounts on any ticket prices on the Pirate website. The promotional giveaway for the day was free Pirate Parrot alarm-clocks to 12-and-unders, so that may have skewed the demographics. Heaven knows the whole place sounded like a Manhattan telephone switchboard, as all the tykes played with their analog! mechanical! wind it up with two bells on top and a clapper! clocks. Leeeny was extremely dismayed at her inability to pass for 12. Where were those monkeyboys when she needed them.
There were numerous roving small packs of white-shoed, white-haired, white-skinned guys, which was more like what I expected to see. Lots of Polo shirts and golf tans.
Air-conditioning, lots of tables and comfy chairs with soft cushions, Bucco memorabilia framed on the walls, such as a Maz HOF signed jersey, and the shoes that Dock Ellis wore during his 'LSD' no-hitter, although the nameplate made no reference to chemical assistance. Convenient access to the food and the aforementioned drinks. The bourbons were $4.75 at one bar and $5.00 at another a little farther around the perimeter, I can't explain that. I ONLY HAD THOSE TWO, HONEST. Many many flat-screen televisions embedded into the walls, if you didn't want to leave the conditioned air and brave the elements to watch the actual game. You can't see the field from inside the lounge itself, you have to go outside to look down. Several pool tables, to while away rain delays or ugly blowouts. A printer kiosk that spits out copies of the day's starting lineups as soon as they've been set. A guy carving roast meat for sandwiches served on fresh foccacia. Copious friendly attendants. The whole thing was similar in ambience to the lounge you'd find in the ground floor of a good downtown hotel, presuming it chose a Pirate decorating scheme.
Outside the glass doors, the seats were much nicer than those the hoi-polloi put their cheeks into: wider, way more legroom between rows, and very well cushioned. The elevation above the field is perfect. There was no equivalent at 3RS because at that height, you had the low ceiling from the 2nd deck over your head, whereas here you're out in the open. It would get very hot to sit on the 3B side during a sunny day game (SPF 30+ and a full-brimmed hat advised), since the shadows fall only on the upper-deck-1B-side during the worst heat of the day -- however for a night game then the 3B side gets the knockout view of the skyline and river, and would be beyond primo for Fireworks Nights. Fireworks Night In Pittsburgh joke goes here.
There are a few suites sticking off of this open lounge area, which might (?) be rentable per-game instead of the more permanent lease arrangements for the private corporate boxes in the level directly below, which we didn't even attempt to get into. Leeeny knows her limits. We stuck our noses in one of the 200-level suites and it had a lovely spread of hors d'oeuvres all laid out and waiting for people who weren't there yet. Heaven knows what that stuff costs, because I know they require that you buy all your food from the in-house catering arm. You can't rent a box and tote in your own Walmart pretzels and Beer Warehouse keg, for instance. I saw a cheeseball that would probably set you back 50 bucks. No price lists in evidence, and I didn't have the chutzpah to ask for one, since we were trying to keep a low profile.
When we were done drinking and gawking, and when we had scoped out the seats to see exactly where we'd choose to sit if tickets were available (sec 207, row C, seats 1 & 2: please feel free to buy some and mail them to me at the address on this page), we said adieu to our Pampered Pirate interlude, and headed back downstairs to shoo the pesky autograph-hounds off of the seats we had paid for, and wait for the ballgame to begin.
It would be VERY easy to get used to the 200 level were it not for the sticker-shock. The idea of having full-season seats in 2xx is pie-in-the-sky, lottery-ticket dreamstuff. Not coincidentally I am sure, the club does *not* offer partial-season plans for these seats -- it's either full-season or individual-games only, with a huge unit-cost differential: $27-$32 per game for full-season purchase, but $55-$60 per individual game. Scathing editorial comment withheld. If you are looking at the PNC seating map, I'm talking about the red-colored sections, the ones surrounding the umbrella'ed patios when you look up (or down) at the deck. The patios are nice too, by the way. A fine place to party with your well-heeled Young Republican playmates.
Realistically, I can see maybe buying one or MAYBE two games per season where we could treat ourselves to this level of cushiness. It would be hard for us to justify (or afford) more, because it is beyond shocking to even contemplate the idea of paying SIXTY DOLLARS for just the *ticket* to ONE REGULAR SEASON BASEBALL GAME, played by a team that hasn't played .500 ball since music came on vinyl and my computer looked like this. It's equally shocking to think of paying that much to see a World Series champion, for that matter. I know the 'economic realities' of trying to bring in enough revenue to field a competitive team in today's market, blah blah blah. I won't go there right now. An alternative for DB and I as Blair Countians could be that we go see more games in Affordable Altoona and fewer games in Pricy Pittsburgh. But I am still more of a Pirate fan than a Curve fan, so that's not an even-up trade to me.
There's no question that you would get an entirely different feel for the ballgame, physically, up in those seats. Back when DB and I went to the very first game at PNC in April 2001, one of my initial-impression criticisms was how cramped and uncomfortable the (field-level) seating was compared to 3RS. I still notice that at every game we attend at PNC, but I now conclude that I've just been sitting in the wrong place. On the Good Ship HMS Nutting-McClatchy, if you want to do your dancin' on the Promenade Deck, your passage will cost you $60, not including the price of those holy-grail Jim Beams that instigated the Quest in the first place.
It was an interesting day, as well as a helluva good time for a change, ballgame-wise. We swept the Redlegs, the crowd was nutso, and the last pitch of the game was 97-mph called-third-strike heat from Joe Table. Fun, fun.
Tuesday, July 06, 2004
How To Pack A Lionel Train
Starting on Tuesday evening July 6 at 10pm eastern, and running for the next 5 days until Sunday evening July 11 at 10pm eastern, I'm auctioning a 79-year-old Lionel train at eBay, as a proxy for my dad, who did the restoration and repainting. The train and the Dad are almost identical in age. The eBay listing (item #5908041582), with additional photographs and all the auction details, can be found here, so go on over and put in a bid! Wouldn't this slice of American-pie nostalgia look perfect under your Christmas tree? Wouldn't your grandkids think you were the world's bestest Grampy or Grammy? Sure they would. This set is vintage "Pre-War" (that's Dubya-Dubya-Two, a/k/a The Big One) and pre-wars are highly prized among Lionel train collectors. Standard gauge is a pretty hefty size: 1/32 scale (basically), as compared to little HO at 1/87. (Yes, I know the difference between 'gauge' and 'scale'.) The track measures 2-1/8" between the outer rails, which makes the cars large enough to handle without fear, although they deserve the tender loving care that you'd give to any 79-year-old thing.
I thought it would be useful to show how well I have packed this stuff for shipment, so that anyone making a bid will have few worries that anything bad will happen in transit. As long as the brown truck doesn't crash, at least.
Click on any of the images below to see 640x480-pixel enlargements. (Then use your browser's BACK button to return to this page.) Here's the link to the eBay listing again.
One more time for good measure, here's the auction link. Make my dad happy, and yourself too.
I thought it would be useful to show how well I have packed this stuff for shipment, so that anyone making a bid will have few worries that anything bad will happen in transit. As long as the brown truck doesn't crash, at least.
Click on any of the images below to see 640x480-pixel enlargements. (Then use your browser's BACK button to return to this page.) Here's the link to the eBay listing again.
 01. Layer 1: tissue paper, on #35 Pullman. |  02. Layer 2: newspaper. |
 03. Layer 3: plastic foam wrap. |  04. Pullman car all wrapped. |
 05. #36 Observation car, tissue paper. |  06. Observation car in mid-wrap. |
 07. Observation car all wrapped. |  08. Two lightbulbs for #8 Engine, wrapped separately in tissue paper. |
 09. Wrapped lightbulbs and #8 Engine. |  10. Lightbulb packet stuck underneath body of engine. |
 11. Engine in mid-wrap. |  12. Still wrapping. |
 13. Engine all wrapped. |  14. Three wrapped cars placed into their inner box, surrounded by bubble-wrap. |
 15. Excess space in inner box filled with newspaper. |  16. Inner train box all done and taped. |
 17. Inner track box, showing track sections and plastic bag with small parts. |  18. Track box was deeper than needed, so intermediate spacer of cardboard was added before filling the box with plastic peanuts. |
 19. Track box filled with peanuts. |  20. Track box all done and taped. |
 21. Inner boxes placed inside large outer box. There are a few inches of peanuts on the bottom. |  22. Filling outer box with peanuts, surrounding all sides of inner boxes. |
 23. This large storage drum had been full to the top when I started. I hope the recipient will in turn re-use/recycle the peanuts. |  24. All done except for the address of the lucky winning bidder. |
One more time for good measure, here's the auction link. Make my dad happy, and yourself too.
