But those things are all part of a game. A game I love. I have followed the Rangers for years, and those who know me will attest that I am not a casual fan. I really enjoy baseball in general and the Texas Rangers in particular. And as a Rangers fan, I have had the opportunity to see ugly on more than this occasion. It is unfortunate that my team chose this game to have a clunker, I’m not sure I’ll ever have the opportunity to go to another World Series game, but in the big picture, I did get to go see my team in the World Series! In the wisdom of the character I can’t name from The Water Boy, “Ee iv uh pay anole dee,” which I’m pretty sure translates to, “We live to play another day.” The fact that the Rangers got pummeled the game I went to see is not devastating, just part of this game I love.
What should not have been part of this game I love was the experience at Rangers Ballpark last night. I am not a first-time guest to the Ballpark. This was my fifth game this summer. The Ballpark was part of Mother’s Day (Thank you again, Sharona, for pretending like you WANTED to go to a baseball game for Mother’s Day!) and July 4th for me this year. And this is an every year activity for me; I could probably guide a decent tour of the Ballpark. And, until last night, I have enjoyed every single game, win or lose. Last night, I was embarrassed.
I was embarrassed that I had so solidly endorsed the Ballpark and baseball as one of the few remaining places my friend could take his two boys (ages 13 and 9) to without worrying about censoring or having to sheepdog them. This was baseball! At the price of World Series tickets, I was fairly comfortable that we would be dealing with baseball type people. At least other people who could afford those tickets and treat the game with respect, right? This was going to be a community of people who loved the game as I did, from two great baseball cities, sharing in a heated competition for bragging rights… but treating each other with respect.
I know the Rangers are still relatively new kids on the block. That would be the block that houses the respected, perennial winners of Major League titles. And I know that sometimes it takes fans a season to understand how to carry themselves like championship caliber fans. In my opinion, championship caliber fans are those who support their team, but aren’t afraid to be hospitable to the fans who are visiting. The greatest compliment I can imagine would be the Cardinal fans going back to St. Louis and telling all of their friends, “Well, the Rangers beat our butts, but it was one of the greatest baseball towns! They knew the game, respected the game, and treated us well.” And I’m not being Polly Anna here. I’m not suggesting we don’t give them a little crap, or sing “Let’s go Rangers!” with accompanying claps! But the St. Louis Cardinals are in this series because they beat everyone they needed to in the National League. They earned the right to be here. And unlike Tampa Bay, who couldn’t get their fans to support them when they needed most, St. Louis fans are knowledgeable (albeit NL rules) fans who appreciate great baseball.
This is not the experience my friends two children, and certainly not the experience the St. Louis fans in the upper Home Run Porch experienced. Instead, they were treated to cliché-ic drunken fools who couldn’t speak a single complete sentence that didn’t include cursing. And not the PG curse words, we’re talking “F” bombs and the like. And as is often the way it works, soon it was becoming a contest for volume and creative usage of profanity. I can also tell you that, at $6.50 a bottle/can, the concessions are bankrolling next year’s player payroll pretty easily. Unfortunately… that’s not a strong enough word…to my great embarrassment and dismay, the game soon turned on the visiting fans. These people didn’t do anything to deserve this treatment beyond supporting their team and raising a few signs.
It was even sadder that these St. Louis fans originally thought the exchange was going to be good natured. They were mistaken. I publically apologize to those fans in my section that were treated so poorly. I didn’t participate, I was trying to shield two young men and keep their attention focused elsewhere, but I was thoroughly embarrassed and want you to know that not every Rangers fan feels that way about you or your team.
As the game wore on, and the score got away from the Rangers, my friend took his children back down to the centerfield area that has different baseball skill games. Though somewhat numb by this point, imagine my amazement as I watched an adult man stagger into the children’s’ area with bloodshot, glassed-over eyes and stop. Oblivious to anyone else, he began ejecting every snack and beverage of his evening onto the ground at the entrance to the pitching cage with the speed gun attached. Not once… repeatedly. Classy, sir, classy.
Fellow Rangers fans, while our team has grown into a classy, championship caliber team before our very eyes, we have not made the same growth as fans. I have seen experienced players encourage younger players after flashes of greatness or success, “Act like you’ve been here before.” The message translates. The State of Texas I grew up in was often characterized and applauded for its friendliness and hospitality. For those of you, who haven’t had the opportunity to practice these traits in public situations, let me encourage you to find some more experienced Texans that can model this behavior for you. In short, act like you’ve been here! If you can’t, please don’t wear Rangers attire that might confuse the rest of our children, or our guests that we condone your behavior.
Game Four is on TV now, and I am screaming, “Nap-o-li!” in my living room. I still believe. These Rangers are made of championship stuff, in spite of the off night they had yesterday. It is my greatest hope that yesterday was simply an off night for the fans as well.
