The last time(s) I had been to a ballgame in Milwaukee, it was before even the name Miller Park, and namely County Stadium.
Same county, much different friendly confines for this, the recent home opener.
Bernie Brewer might have to go sans suds to find his new place of work, as it has moved to a new spot along with bleachers, from which he slides after homers, and I recall this from way back in the days of Harvey’s Wallbangers. The slide twists in a slightly different fashion that just might be needed because its now perched just inside the left field power pole.
Up on The Irons, the facade that faces home plate, are many listed in the state baseball hall of fame. Two that I did not expect, so I had to ask my brother as he knows such things while sitting aside me, yes Bob Uecker is there even though still behind the mic up above us, and yes so is Jackie Robinson — I didn’t know he had a late career stint with the Brewers, but no, I was assured he was up there due to a rightly ordained MLB order.
— I also note you’d need to be really nerdy.
To miss these monsters of rock and more.
Going hours longer than most such flashy options, the GasLite Bar and Grill in Ellsworth holds its annual Victory Fireworks Demo on Friday. With plenty of food also featured for fun and family, while you wait for the big bangs. But that won’t be as long as during mid-summer — as dusk comes about 8 p.m. and the show carries on to closing so its a barrage — and you can still bring your lawn chairs.
P.S. Then its the Dweebs checking in at the GasLite next Saturday night. Just took in the act for the first time in a while at a New Richmond venue they used to frequent. People didn’t stray from the dance floor during the sets, and then but only then went out and about the downtown during the breaks, showing their veracity. The group put in very un-dweeb-ish splashes to some hard rock tunes, with the singer’s snarl being dead-on. And I’d never seen such good use of a guitar-neck/beer-bong. So as a follow-up to this weekend’s River Falls Bourbon (highlighted here since its a cool term) fest that features well over a dozen bands … —
But back at the Brewer ballpark, you knew them by their … never mind. It seemed all the exquisitely beautiful women — better to eye then Uecker — were able to progress to The Front Row and stake their claim. And I swear, the more buxom, the more likely they got so close to the field they could lean over the railing. Oddly for the times we’ve had, and moreso because it was a rare warm day, very few weren’t dressed down so far as they’d sure get a tan.
And the sunglasses were on everyone’s face, nary a cloud up above so it made sense. But there is the age-old way to attract attention by taking them on and off — like a bartender and her sweatshirt in fall — indiscriminant of those slight clouds that there were at a given time. And as the sun drew westward and thus the shadows in the lower deck eastward, there was no change in the frequency of the tip it up the head. Just sayin.
But I was really impressed by the woman selling boxes of lemonade who was hawking it while filing up and down the perpendicular walkway, and all the while keeping it balanced atop her head, and hands had to be busy doing other sales things. And nary a drop spilled by dropping the box.
Boxes that were kept perfect were also on the field. The grounds crew seemed to be out there all the time, serving as a greenskeeper to keep grass positively glowing. And the sand in the infield was similarly immaculate, and the color kept that one same tone throughout and always. When that first pitch was thrown out — by a three-headed trio of dignitaries — it upset the applecart or more aptly the intricate order of the dirt’s positioning. Only made the ball go 58 feet.
The Brew Crew home now has the flash and flare of a brightly liquored cocktail, or one could say the neon displays closer to home at a Minnesota Wild game, where pro hockey meets rock concert. All those colors streaking along and replacing one another as they move sideways along the facade that makes up the front of the upper deck.
In back of home plate, halfway up the deck area, were smaller numbers listing not only balls and strikes but pitch speed. My brother pointed this out as the Brewer ace — we were lucky enough to catch that part of the rotation — neared triple digits. My older squinty eyes were having trouble making out just where that key number sat on the facade, and at first I was looking at a different part of this faux scoreboard, but then Tom pointed it out again. By that time I had figured out that I was initially looking in the wrong column, as I vaguely recall while writing this, as I knew no one could have a speed of only a single digit.
A star of this day ended up being on the other team, someone who had a big but not really bulked up frame, and took center stage for a bit. A guy in front of us, informed us that the man’s father had once been a Mr. Canada, so such acclaim was not unknown. The bearer of this news seemed very eager to talk about it, and at length. Maybe the family’s publicist? Give that guy in the stands a mic!
What’s up above…
Of course this field has a roof, and the girders that held in place what on some days might have been extended, were way up there and oddly parallel to the base lines and looked almost freestanding. A newscast we saw shortly before our day in the park had a young reporter say she was given a tour when it was built — and it included a perch on one of the girders! An addendum: The day featured a high pop fly over the infield that for the first and only time hit not only the roof, which was under wraps on this day, but even one of those girders, altering the ball’s flight before it dropped to not near third base, but closer to second.
A 40-yard-dash distance away, in the left field corner, up above the wall, sits a prestigious sports bar, and my nephew said it was going to be the site of a company gathering later in the summer. So maybe I can get an invite, and thus go again?