Road Trip Wrap Up

Day Four: Woke up in Kansas City and headed to the museums on 18^th and Vine: The American Jazz Museum and the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum. While the former was filled with history (as well as Bill Clinton’s saxophone), the latter was the focus of our day. Jay, lover of history and baseball (it says so in his facebook profile), was particularly piqued by the tales of the game as played by black men before Jackie Robinson came along. It has always made me wonder: what if Josh Gibson and Satchel Paige were able to play with Babe Ruth and the best white players of the day? Would the Home Run King be Josh Gibson and not Barry Bonds, as it is now? Food for thought.

Speaking of food, we then headed for Arthur Bryant’s where I downed a pulled pork sandwich and Jay destroyed a plate of ribs in record time. It was delicious; the fries were crispy and the 44 oz. Lemonade was perfect on a 95 degree day.

Next stop - Kauffman Stadium for a Royals/Indians game and boy did we see a doozie. Zach Greinke continued his surge to the American League Cy Young Award by striking out 15 Cleveland batters over 8 innings, a new team record, supplanting the immortal Mark Gubicza. Apparently Royals attendance surges by several thousand on the nights Greinke pitches, and this night was no exception: the atmosphere was electric. The outfield fountains are pretty cool to see up close, but for this game, the real action was on the field as the fans stood for every 2-strike count. A Royals win moved us to 2-0 on the road trip.

Ballpark tip: Not only can you get the baseball cap filled with ice cream – they’ll top it off with jimmies, chocolate sauce, whipped cream and a cherry. I’ve never seen that at Fenway. Another note: Tuesday nights in KC are “T-Shirt Tuesdays.” I've got my powder blue number all ready to go.

We finished the Tuesday evening downtown in the Power & Light district, which wasn’t really hopping, but the piano bar Howl at the Moon provided some entertainment, Fat Tire ales and a big fruity drink at Jay’s suggestion. One of the band members was from Boston and gave us a shout-out, perhaps in deference to my harmonizing on Bon Jovi’s “Wanted Dead or Alive.” They played a medley of Huey Lewis and the News songs at Jay’s request, and a bunch of hammered Kansas City office workers kept things interesting on the sidelines.

Day Five: Despite wanting a return trip to Arthur Bryant’s, we left for St. Louis early the next morning. Upon arrival, we spent the afternoon wandering around the Arch and the Museum of Westward Expansion beneath it. I would suggest visiting this museum because it gives the historical perspective from all sides, of which I found the Native American side particularly meaningful. When Terence Mann says “America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers” in Field of Dreams, he was right. The entire experience of "manifest destiny" and its consequences is powerful stuff.

On to the game – a lot of people say the new Busch Stadium isn’t particularly special but Jay and both agree it’s a great place to watch a ballgame. It starts with the fans: people have long said Cardinals fans are the best in the game and, sorry Chicago people, they just might be. They know their stuff. Plus they’re nice, which is a foreign concept to Boston fans. The atmosphere made it seem like this Wednesday night matchup against the Astros was a key game in the pennant race. Roy Oswalt got outpitched by a charter member of the Hot Garbage All Stars, Joel Piniero, and the Cards took home the victory, moving us to 3-0 on the trip. Julio Lugo made an appearance as a pinch hitter, walked, and stole a base. Good grief.

Day Six: Drove through the night, woke up in Chicago and headed north to Milwaukee. Come on, Illinois! This road construction is brutal! You can do better! (and now you can tell I’m starting to get tired and cranky) The Brew Crew took on the Reds under the roof on a rainy, 65 degree day. This was actually my first experience watching indoor baseball, but luckily Miller Park is “open” on the sides, avoiding the sterile experience of places like the Metrodome or Tropicana Field (neither of which I’ve seen, but Jay’s been to Tampa). It was a relatively uneventful game: the Brewers got most of their scoring in the first on a Prince Fielder blast and held the lead until the middle innings when starter Dave Bush tired and we were treated to the “Mark DeFelice experience.” The reliever got lit up and the Reds, led by Joey Votto (who had two impressive games on the trip) prevailed 8-5. We did get to see Bernie Brewer go down his slide but it’s disappointing that Bernie spends the rest of his time trapped in “Bernie’s Dugout” like a zoo exhibit, waiting for someone to hit a homer. If they had the Mets’ lineup, Bernie’s life would be pretty boring. And the fans - can't forget them - as the loss represented a Cincinnatti sweep at Miller Park, the fans were bitter. As one woman said (in perfect Wisconsin tongue) "I can't wait for Payck-ers season to start."

The Chorizo took the famous Sausage Race, beating out my guy, Polish. Jay’s allegiance was with the Brat, who finished in fourth. After some standard fare and Sox-watching at Fanatics sports bar, it was back to Chicago.

Day Seven: Ate breakfast at my favorite Chicago spot, Frances’, and walked the twenty minutes over to Wrigley. The gameday atmosphere is always great in Chicago, even on a foggy day like this one. The Cubs fans are uniquely amusing: somewhere along the line they lost the happy-go-lucky attitude and expected to win something. Maybe it was 2003. Oops. Unfortunately, the results have been the same: this particular Cubs team stinks and the general manager should be canned. Unfortunately, Cubs fans can’t boo Jim Hendry directly so they boo Milton Bradley and Alfonso Soriano when they misplay easy popups. Never one to boo my hometown players, I decided to add fuel to the fire and call out these hapless "fans." Sure enough, Soriano and Bradley were the ones who helped the Cubs charge back and win the game! And boy did the Cubs fans cheer! What a mess. Anyways, any day spent at Wrigley is a great time, no matter where you sit, even if that awful “Go Cubs, Go” song blares over the PA system at the end of the game. Wrigley beats out Fenway for holding fast to its tradition, right down to the lack of a video board and solid use of the organ both in between innings and during the game.

After an extremely filling meal at Uncle Julio’s, we went to this place Citizen, following in the trend of bars that feel the need to have a one word, singular name. The idea of drinking and socializing on the deck outside was quickly squashed by the management, who moved everyone indoors to listen to techno remixes of classic songs such as "And Then He Kissed Me" by The Crystals. Brutal. The fact that nobody was really dancing and I couldn’t hear myself think, much less talk to somebody else guarantees I won’t be back at Citizen anytime soon. Finishing up at Butch McGuire’s was a solid audible and a much better choice – I’m always happy to be there.

Eight and Nine: On Saturday we spent some quality time being tourists in the Windy City with assistance from my lovely girlfriend and on Sunday we drove nearly 15 hours back home. It was a great trip; and despite the fact that I often yell at Jay on the radio, I didn't kill him, he didn't kill me, and we were lucky to have friends help us along the way and a roommate to pick us up after the trip when we dropped off our rental car. We saw a lot, had a great time, and I would deem it a total success.